Sweet Dreams (Sunset Dreams Series Book 1)

BOOK: Sweet Dreams (Sunset Dreams Series Book 1)
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Sweet Dreams

A Sunset Dreams Novel

Jennifer Senhaji

Published by Jennifer Senhaji

Copyright 2014 Jennifer Senhaji

Editing and Layout by Patricia D. Eddy

Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Author does not own any rights to music mentioned in this book.

Also by Jennifer Senhaji

Sunset Dreams Series

Sweet Dreams

Choosing to Dream coming in 2015

Disguising Love Series

Angels in Disguise (originally published as part of the Unwrapping Love Holiday Anthology)

Contents

Dedication-7

Prologue-8

Chapter One-9

Chapter Two-14

Chapter Three-19

Chapter Four-24

Chapter Five-30

Chapter Six-34

Chapter Seven-42

Chapter Eight-46

Chapter Nine-51

Chapter Ten-53

Chapter Eleven-56

Chapter Twelve-58

Chapter Thirteen-62

Chapter Fourteen-67

Chapter Fifteen-70

Chapter Sixteen-72

Chapter Seventeen-74

Chapter Eighteen-77

Chapter Nineteen-98

Chapter Twenty-103

Chapter Twenty-One-106

Chapter Twenty-Two-110

Chapter Twenty-Three-114

Chapter Twenty-Four-120

Chapter Twenty-Five-133

Chapter Twenty-Six-151

Chapter Twenty-Seven-156

Chapter Twenty-Eight-158

Chapter Twenty-Nine-169

Chapter Thirty-177

Chapter Thirty-One-185

Chapter Thirty-Two-187

Chapter Thirty-Three-191

Chapter Thirty-Four-198

Chapter Thirty-Five-200

Chapter Thirty-Six-203

Chapter Thirty-Seven-206

Chapter Thirty-Eight-209

Chapter Thirty-Nine-224

Extras -227

Choosing to Dream-234

Music in Sweet Dreams-238

Gratitude-239

About the Author-240

Dedication

For my Lovey Dovey

Prologue

The water is like ice, stunning me as I go under. I can hear his voice calling my name from the surface, but when I open my mouth to answer, it fills with water, choking me. My lungs burn, searching for oxygen, and disoriented, my body forgets that I know how to swim. My limbs won’t work and time slows down.

Please help me!

I’m drowning.

I’ve been down here forever.

I’m going to die.

I’m going to die all because of that ridiculously ginormous spider and my inability to keep two feet on the floor. I’m drowning and I’ll never get a chance to tell him, to feel his lips on mine. Why didn’t I kiss him when I had the chance? I want to be back up there with him, not drowning in this freezing cold water, halfway around the world. Why didn’t I make a move? Why didn’t he?

Help!

How did I get myself into this mess?

Green, so green…

Chapter One

When you cease to dream you cease to live. Malcom Forbes

January

W
ith my ear buds firmly in place and Shakira and Alejandro Sanz flirtatiously belting out “La Tortura” on my iPod, I step into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor, on my way back to the café for the afternoon.

I worked the opening shift as usual at my café, Sweet Dreams. After the morning rush, I left my favorite barista, Laney, in charge so I could go to a meeting with my attorney. The meeting was a good one and I leave his office relieved after worrying about it all week.

Alone in the elevator, I sing along with the music and shake my hips to the beat.

I love this song.

The elevator doors open on the second floor to let someone on and I still, glancing up at the passenger entering.

What the…

I do a double take at the man who steps in.

Holy guacamole!

He presses the button marked G as I ogle him in his leather jacket, baseball hat, and sunglasses. He moves to stand in the far corner, as if he’s trying to blend into the panels on the elevator wall. Turning his head toward me, he catches me staring, and I quickly turn and face forward again.

It’s Jacob Walker, A-list actor.

I would recognize his broad shoulders, black hair, and beautifully chiseled jawline anywhere.

Too bad I can’t see his eyes.

Smiling to myself, I tap my foot along with the music and continue to face forward. When we reach the ground floor, I exit the elevator first with a spring in my step. Taking one ear bud out I call, “Have a beautiful day,” over my shoulder. With a blank expression on his face, he looks back at me and doesn’t respond, so I continue walking outside.

And that was my big encounter with Jacob Walker.

I practically skip all the way to the café. He’s tall, just as handsome in person as he is on the big screen, and boy does he smell good. I giggle to myself and let out a sigh.

It’s a beautiful winter’s day in Maple Grove. I’ve been here three years now and I never get tired of the trees. Taking in a big breath of fresh air, the scent of pine and a wood burning fireplace invigorates me. I found this town on a drive one day four years ago, and when I decided I wanted to leave the city, I knew this was the place for me. A quiet, small town, three hours north of San Francisco. Still close to my family, but a lot slower paced than living in the city. I grew up in San Francisco; it would always be my home, but I didn’t want to live there anymore.

I love Maple Grove. Most people in town know each other and watch out for one another. The downtown area is only four blocks long and my café, Sweet Dreams, which I opened two years ago, has become the popular stop for coffee. We serve really good coffee and I have a baker who comes in every morning and makes fresh pastries for the day. There are places for people to sit and read and a little book section that I stock myself. There’s even a space in the back that I think would be a great outside patio area, if I ever get around to setting it up. Laney is my full time barista and right hand. I have two other employees, students that work part time picking up hours here and there around their school schedules. The business is doing really well and it’s the most important thing in my life.

I have to say it’s pretty amazing owning my own successful business at twenty nine, thank you very much.

It’s a lot of work, but very rewarding.

Walking into the café with a huge smile on my face, Laney takes notice and says, “What is that big smile for?”

Contemplating for a moment whether or not I should tell her about sharing an elevator with Jacob Walker, I decide to keep the experience for myself.

Smiling, I reply, “Nothing, just in a really good mood today. My meeting went well.”

“Congratulations!” Laney turns on the British accent we sometimes use when speaking with each other and continues. “So what is on the agenda for the rest of the day?”

Responding in the same accent as per our weird little custom, I offer, “How about a little dancing music?”

“Brilliant!”

My only explanation for the accents; we both grew up watching way too much BBC.

Turning the stereo system up, I plug in my iPod and start my “Latin Mix” playlist. “La Camisa Negra” by Juanes starts to play and I can’t help doing a little cumbia step to the music while I check the shelves to see what needs to be restocked.

For the rest of the afternoon, Laney and I dance behind the counter to salsa and merengue while we help customers and laugh at each other. I challenge a few of my regular customers to show me their best moves in exchange for a free coffee. They all deliver with great enthusiasm and leave with a complimentary beverage and a smile on their faces. When Mario, the owner of the auto body shop down the street, comes in, he pulls me out from behind the counter and we salsa right in the middle of the café. The customers clap as he twirls me around and dips me at the end of the song.

He must be close to sixty and he’s still a great dancer.

After our dance, I give him a kiss on the cheek and a complimentary chocolate chip cookie, sending him happily back to his shop.

My friend Jerry stops in, and when Laney sees him she blushes and bolts for the kitchen.

I never noticed before, but I think she must have a little crush on him.

He doesn’t dance, but stays for a while to chat.

“What’s up, Jer?”

“Nothing, just came to see what you were up to.”

“Oh you know, work, salsa, merengue, the usual,” I say smiling.

“I see that. No, don’t look at me like that Jen, you know I don’t dance.”

“Jer, how is it possible you don’t dance? You’re a musician.”

Jerry shrugs. I shake my head and wipe down the counter while Jerry nibbles on a cookie.

After work, I go home and slip
Secret Protocol,
one of Jacob Walker’s movies that I have on DVD, into the machine to watch, so I can compare my encounter with what I see on film. I catch myself leaning in really close to the screen during a scene in the movie where he has his shirt off.

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