Lovely Dreams

by Danielle Stewart

  “I don’t think anything you’re imagining is part of the package we paid for here at the spa.”

  “Are you imagining my package?”

  “No,” she lied unconvincingly.

  “We paid for this room, and the door locks. I don’t think anyone will come knocking unless you’re a real screamer. It’s our anniversary; I think they’ll understand.”

  “It’s not our anniversary.”

  “Sure it is. It’s our one day anniversary. That counts.”

  Lauren’s face burned red as she pulled her robe tighter. “You are not my type at all. I’m not sure where you got that impression. I don’t see you that way. We’re just casual acquaintances at best.”

  “Oh really?” He shrugged coolly. “So this is just a platonic relationship? Good. That’s a relief. I’ve been tiptoeing around like something might happen between us. Now that I know, I’ll just change here. This is basically a locker room for casual acquaintances.”

  “Fine by me,” Lauren said, punctuating it with a gulp.

  Tray dropped the towel, and Lauren worked hard for at least two seconds, the longest two seconds of her life, to stare only at his toned thighs. She was not going to look at his package. No way. She knew his game, and she was not going to play.

  Willpower is a funny thing. She could run five miles before the sun came up. Do a three-day juice cleanse without the slightest slip to temptation. But apparently her eyes were weak. Drawn by something primal. She gave in. And apparently her mouth, letting out a tiny gasp of pleasure, was weak too.

  Damn.

  “So, did you catch the Bruins game on Tuesday?” he asked casually as he ran a towel over his wet hair, his arms up high, muscles flexed. His body was a specimen to behold. Something people would line up to paint.

  Paint? They’d line up for more than that.

  “No,” Lauren stuttered out. “The Bruins game? I kissed it. I mean I missed it.”

  His shoulders raised up and down with a chuckle and his abs tightened. “It was a great game. A buddy of mine is a big fan. I’m going to pick up some gear for him while I’m here.”

  “Great,” Lauren said, her hand coming up, one finger running across her suddenly dry lips. “You should do this.”

  “Huh?”

  “You should do that,” she corrected suddenly. “Buy him the stuff.”

  He put the towel over his shoulders and poured some aftershave into his hands, slapping it onto his cheeks.

  “Are you going to get dressed?” she asked finally in a raspy voice.

  “Is this bothering you? I can cover up.”

  “It’s not bothering me at all,” she replied curtly, trying to regain her composure and with it a little dignity. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

  “Have you only seen one?” he asked with a wry smile.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I’ll get dressed. Can you hand me my pants?” He gestured with his chin over at the rack where their clothes had been pressed and laid back out for them.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. Another game. Luring her closer. Close enough to smell his fresh skin. “Here,” she said, holding her arm out straight, staying as far away as possible.

  “Shall we eat?”

  Lauren didn’t answer. Frozen.

  “Buddy? Pal? Friend?” Tray asked, forcing his face to stay serious.

  “You’re getting a real rise out of this aren’t you?”

  “You’d know if I was getting a rise. Trust me. It would be hard to miss.”

  Her eyes dove back to the one spot she was trying to avoid. His body might not be reacting to the situation, but hers was pulsing with heat and desire. Her mouth grew dry and words clogged her throat.

  “I am hungry,” she finally edged out. “Starving actually.”

  He slid his clothes on slowly, and she felt something in her tear away as her view of his bare body disappeared. She filled with disappointment and then kicked herself for it. He was playing with her, and it was working.

  “You going to wear that robe to eat?” Tray asked, buttoning his shirt. The finality of him being dressed made Lauren’s shoulders sag. Until she realized suddenly two could play this game. That would be like getting in the last word, and before she could talk herself out of it she acted.

  “No, I’m not wearing this robe to lunch, pal. That would be silly.” She untied it and dropped it to the ground. The warm air in the room closed in around her naked body. There was a chance Tray was better at this than her. Have the willpower she hadn’t. Would he pull a poker face she couldn’t?

  He isn’t any better at it. And thank goodness for that.

  Tray’s eyes flew toward her body as she swept her hair up and spun it into a tight bun. She let her arms linger up around her head for a long moment. A statue. Art to behold. His face didn’t pink like hers had, but his eyes went wide and hungry for her. A sharp exhale of breath.

  Striding over toward him, she got within six inches then leaned by him for her lip gloss resting on the shelf. Leaning toward the mirror, she rolled the gloss across her lips and pressed them together sensually.

  “You win.” Tray’s lips curled into a smile and his brows furrowed together. “You absolutely win.”

  “Hmm,” she hummed with a tiny shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She spun away from the mirror and faced him. Tray’s hand rose up toward her bare hip, then froze and fell back to his side. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, leaning in just a little.

  “Very,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. “We should get something.” His eyes dropped from hers, drinking in her body. “Unless you can think of something else we should do.”

  “Are the Bruins playing tonight?”

  He couldn’t hold back the laugh. “Cruel woman.”

  “I’d say we’re even.” She took a step back and reached for her clothes. She dressed as slowly as he had. “I’ve heard the scallops here are amazing.”

  “We should go now,” Tray said, clearing his throat.

  “In a rush now?” Layla asked, eyeing him closely.

  Tray moved in and ran his thumb across her jaw and chin. “If we don’t leave this room right now our clothes will be right back on that shelf. You are going on that counter. The door is getting locked.”

  She raised to her tip toes and brushed a kiss on his lips that moved to his cheek. Walking the line between a polite peck and sheer seduction. “Let’s go eat.”

  That time he didn’t hold his hand back. Tray gripped her hips and pulled her in close, grinding against her as their lips collided. She melted. That gooey warm marshmallowy way that only happens when a kiss is perfect. Ravenous and urgent. The swirl of his tongue. The slide of her hand up his bicep.

  She wouldn’t have to wonder what would happen, where this would end up. Saved by the light knock on the door, Lauren pulled back and raised her hand to her lips.

  “Food. We should go get food,” he whispered, as he ran a finger down her neck and paused at her collarbone. “The next time I kiss you, you’re going to need your energy.”

  Chapter 8

  Tray

  * * *

  He wasn’t hungry for the piece of salmon they set in front of him. He’d only partially heard what made it the special for the day. The only thing he wanted to taste was Lauren. Her cherry lip gloss. The silky skin just below her ear.

  “This looks delicious,” Lauren announced politely to the waitress.

  Tray leaned back and appraised her. Who the hell was this woman who had him spinning? Fantasizing? His life was already a fantasy. There was nothing he wanted he couldn’t have. Nothing he desired that was out of reach. Yet, this small white-cloth-covered table seemed to be enough to block him from what he wanted right now.

  There was a complexity to the situation that he wasn’t accustomed to. Things he didn’t let into his life were seeping in through the cracks of his curiosity and attraction to her. Something as profound as grief. A fam
ily history with dark spots of pain and disconnection. Things he’d never allowed himself to care about were suddenly between him and the woman he wanted.

  “I have some good news,” he said, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though his mind buzzed with desire for her. “My mother, who normally never travels, has agreed to come with your mother to Boston for the gallery opening.”

  “Lovely,” Lauren said, but her face didn’t match the sentiment.

  “I can easily give you the best contact information for your mother, and you can reach out to her before they get here. My mother is her good friend, and I know she’ll be supportive of you both.”

  “I have zero interest in reaching out to my mother. And while I think it’s wonderful that she’s coming, it changes nothing for me. What I can’t figure out is why you care.”

  That makes two of us.

  “Care is a strong word. I’d say I’m mildly fascinated. Intrigued at best. When a woman like Gloria makes it a point to include you in one of her dying wishes, it must mean something.”

  Lauren’s phone rang and her expression changed quickly from mildly annoyed to completely frustrated. “This damn lawyer,” she huffed, leaning back and answering the phone in a hushed voice. “Listen, I know you want me to come into the office. I’m very busy.”

  She shot Tray an apologetic look, but he waved her off. Again his interest was piqued. Did she say lawyer?

  “I don’t see why there would be some kind of expiration date on this thing. Why does it matter when I come in?” Lauren rubbed at her temple and closed her eyes. He’d love to help her melt that stress away. When she hung up and tucked her phone away, she looked drained. The light in her bright eyes was snuffed out.

  “Legal troubles?” he asked, refilling her glass of wine.

  “No. It’s Gloria’s attorney. He’s been settling her estate. She’s named me in the will. Left me something presumably. I haven’t had time to go in, so he says he’s coming to me. Apparently this all has to be settled by the end of the week.”

  “Or what?”

  “Exactly,” Lauren said, tossing her hand up. “I’m a grown-ass person. A woman with a career. Excuse me if I haven’t had time to stop into his office to sign some mystery papers. I don’t want Gloria’s purse collection or her art. I never wanted that stuff. You know what I want?”

  “Gloria?” He could tell he’d shocked her with his correct answer.

  “Yes.”

  “We could go today,” Tray said, reaching a hand across the table to cover hers. “I’ll go with you.”

  “You will?” For a woman who hated to be surprised, he was doing it frequently today. And so far she hadn’t told him to get lost.

  “Sure,” he said, making sure she knew it was no big deal. “I think we’ve done everything there is to do here at the spa. We’ve been dipped in mud, soaked, rubbed, polished, and fed. That’s a pretty productive day. We can swing by the lawyer’s office and sign whatever you’re supposed to sign. It will be easy.”

  “You’re wrong about that.” Lauren pushed her food around mindlessly as she thought it over. “Gloria would never make this easy. There’ll be some kind of curveball or some twist in the road I didn’t see coming.”

  “Today was a surprise and that worked out well.”

  “Right. It was a fluke. I shouldn’t press my luck.”

  “You can’t keep blowing this lawyer off. He sounds pretty persistent. If you don’t go today, he’s going to track you down. That’ll be a surprise you have no control over.” He raised a brow to punctuate the good point he was making.

  “And you’ll seriously come? I’m starting to think you’re a big fan of having front row seats to my one-woman show. Am I your entertainment for the week? I know your life is all about frivolity and indulging. Getting a good laugh at my expense to break up the monotony?”

  “I prefer a good action movie.”

  “Good to know. Maybe a fist fight will break out at the lawyer’s office. Or we can get in a high-speed car chase on the way.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Lauren took a bite of her meal and closed her eyes with pleasure. Her nose wrinkled. “You are lucky this food is amazing and enjoying it is taking up too much room in my brain to come up with a good argument.”

  “And I thought you didn’t have a weakness. Now I know you can be taken down with scallops.”

  “I only mean a verbal battle; I could still jab you in the leg with my fork.”

  Tray laughed as he sipped his wine. “I’ve done a lot of traveling in my life. Busy cities. Remote islands. Tourist-infested resorts. I’m a chatty guy. I like to strike up a conversation wherever I go.”

  “So?”

  “I’m not sure I’ve met a woman like you before. Not on the beaches or in the cities. Nowhere.”

  “In my defense, I’m not sure I’ve acted like this before,” she admitted. “Gloria lived a purposeful and amazing life. It was inspiring. Refreshing. But that was her, not me. I was a spectator. Now, I feel like she’s whispering in my ear. Her death was a wakeup call to start living my life. Like everything she was doing is some kind of life lesson for me.”

  “She would have threatened to jab me with a fork like you just did?”

  “No,” Lauren snickered, waving the idea off. “She would have done it entirely different. She’d have held the fork like a weapon and smiled while she said it. Gloria knew the power of a mixed message.”

  “And you have all those years of wisdom locked up in you. Are you ready to let it all out?”

  “Maybe I’m ready to crack that door open a little. I think I might have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because without her I’m not whole. I hid behind how big she was, how formidable. I watched her from the quiet corner of the board room, working hard to not be seen. Never interjecting, even when she wanted me to. I’ve always thought my role was behind the scenes. But I’ve accidently made my whole life that way. All these lessons are great, but most of them are untested.”

  “Half-baked bread,” Tray commented knowingly, flashing back to his father’s words.

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes darted to the dinner rolls which seemed perfectly baked.

  “My dad used to tell me there was no point in being half-baked bread. Dough people could shape. Create. Experiment with. Fully baked bread can be eaten, but half-baked bread isn’t any good to anyone. He delivered that speech firmly and made sure I knew he meant I was being useless.”

  “Was that before you started your business?”

  “That was when I was nine.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It didn’t faze me. Made me a little hungry. I was craving biscuits all week after that.”

  “I don’t want to be half-baked bread. I have to get out from behind the coffee orders I’m delivering and messages I’m passing along. I want to figure out what parts of myself should shine. What parts of myself I should put out into the world.”

  “This game sounds fun. Can I pick some parts?” He glanced down at her perfect body and she blushed.

  “I may be giving you too much credit in this conversation. You have the emotional depth of a thimble.”

  “I have a witty sense of humor that works as a great defense mechanism to all my secret pain.”

  “Right. Well that’s the only secret we have now, after your little show earlier with dropping your towel.”

  “I believe you had an episode in that show as well.” He cocked his head to the side and fell serious. “I’m really trying to figure you out. You’re dutiful but with a defiant streak. Stubborn but practical when the situation calls for it. Funny as hell, but somehow the most serious person I’ve ever met. Full of joy but deeply sad. How do you manage all those things in that little sexy body of yours?”

  She leaned in as though she was going to share a secret. Her hand slipped under his, and he responded quickly by squeezing tightly. The cool skin of her fingers laced with his. An intimacy he hadn’t
expected but one he suddenly welcomed.

  “I’m not doing so great managing it, actually.”

  Chapter 9

  Lauren

  * * *

  Her vulnerability was uncharacteristic but light years easier since Tray was just a ship passing in the night. He wasn’t taking the job offer seriously. Before long he’d be back in some far-off city sipping drinks and hitting on women in a bar. So if he wanted to ask deep questions, and if she occasionally cried, did it really matter? Let him come to the lawyer’s office and bear witness to whatever waited.

  “If she’s given you enough money to never have to work again, will you quit?” Tray held open the large glass door and waited for her to enter the lobby. It was a sizeable space with multiple chandeliers and people bustling around without looking up at all. They all knew where they were going, the next thing they’d encounter. She was the only one there dreading some news.

  “Of course I wouldn’t quit. Kenan and Layla are on the verge of something incredible. I wouldn’t leave them high and dry at a time like this. You never bothered to hear the business strategy and the launch schedule. You’d be impressed.”

  “I’d be bored.”

  “How do you know?’

  “Because if it doesn’t have sexy curves or a fast motor, I’m usually bored by it.”

  “For the life of me I can’t imagine why Gloria wanted you to consider the job.”

  “I may not enjoy the business world, but that doesn’t mean I’m incompetent.”

  “Just lazy?”

  “I prioritize correctly.”

  “Correctly?”

  “I think pleasure is paramount. No one stood next to my father’s grave and complimented his compliance with tax code or how many hours he spent in the office. My mother’s eulogy won’t be about how crisp her table linens were or how she always measured her candlesticks to be exactly six inches apart. I like to believe I’m challenging the idea of what really matters.”