Lovely Dreams

by Danielle Stewart

  “I thought I’d join you for dessert. Talia, you don’t mind do you?” Her name soured his mouth. How could she stay away from Lauren all this time? He’d known her now for years. Never once did she mention her daughter. She’d known his mother even longer than that. Was she in the dark too?

  “Of course not.” Her normal nervous look amplified as she bit at her lip. “We thought we might have someone joining us, but she didn’t show.”

  “Who?” Tray set his jaw and braced for another lie.

  “My daughter,” Talia said, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Her long hair was swept back with a flowery headband but some fell to her face as she stooped forward. “I have a daughter.”

  Tray bit his tongue. He felt the urge to reply that he already knew. That Lauren was a wonderful woman and Talia had abandoned her. But the only thing Lauren had asked was for him not to get involved. She’d had enough people letting her down. He wouldn’t be one more.

  “You’re stunned,” his mother said, patting his shoulder gently. “I know this must be a shock.”

  He let his silence answer for him.

  Talia looked up toward the ceiling and drew in a deep breath. “This is a very complicated situation, Tray. Coming back here has been the challenge of my life.”

  More than leaving her?

  His blood boiled at the thought of it. How hard was it to get on a plane or pick up the phone all these years? Apparently too hard for her.

  “She didn’t show?” he asked flatly.

  “No.” Talia looked to the door again just in case. “I’m not surprised. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

  “Why?” He leaned back in his chair and tried to keep the expression of anger at bay.

  “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

  “Don’t pry, dear.” His mother hushed her voice as the waiter walked by.

  “You knew she had a daughter?” He explored his mother’s eyes, wondering how many other secrets were tucked away behind them.

  “Tray, this is not something you need to concern yourself with,” his mother said with a dismissive wave. “Talia will get in touch with her while we’re here. It’s really not our business. She works at Kinross Inc. and probably just got held up. Talia and her daughter have some business to attend to. It’ll work out. We should focus on other things.”

  He turned his attention back to Talia. “How well did you know Gloria?”

  “Why do you ask?” Her back went stiff.

  “I’m just curious. You said your daughter works at Kinross. That would be quite the coincidence considering my mother has known Gloria since they were girls. The three of you are all connected in some way, but you haven’t seen your daughter in so long. It’s curious. There must be more to the story.” He was walking the line of breaking his promise to Lauren.

  “I think we’d like to check into our hotel rooms,” his mother said, fluttering her hand at the waiter and asking for their check. “It was a long flight, and Talia and I are very tired.”

  “We can talk more at dinner then,” Tray said, the words sounding almost like a threat.

  “I’m sure we’ll just have room service,” Talia choked out. “The gallery opening is tomorrow evening. A good night’s sleep is what we need. We’ll want to be fresh in morning.”

  “So my services are no longer needed for today?” Tray stood and looked down at his mother curiously. “If you’re heading back to the hotel then you won’t need me hanging around.”

  “You’re free.” She turned her head and accepted the kiss he planted on her cheek.

  “Call if you need anything.” He took a long look at Talia and leveled his face. “I hope you get in touch with your daughter. It doesn’t seem like something you should put off any longer.”

  The women exchanged an uneasy glance, and Tray knew it was time to go before he said something he couldn’t take back.

  After settling into the waiting car, he pulled out his phone and called Lauren’s number.

  “Did you screw things up already?” she asked, though she did sound a little relieved.

  “Not yet. But I did find myself with a lot of free time for the rest of the day. Any chance you want help? Maybe some company?”

  “I’m sure you can think of a hundred better ways to spend your day. Something other than a fruitless quest for answers I’ll probably never find.”

  “Well not with that attitude,” he joked. “I’ll cheer you up. Where should I meet you?”

  “My place.” The words hung between them for a long moment. He was curious about how she lived. Were the walls covered with silly photos from her childhood? Or sharp edged modern art? Did she have a cat? A goldfish? A fridge full of healthy food or a few tubs of ice cream and otherwise bare shelves? “I picked up this other box of stuff Gloria gave me in her will. I’m hoping it has some answers. I already called Horace and interrogated him. He swears he doesn’t know any more about this than I do. My mother and your mother may be the co-owners of the property in Italy, but he can’t say for certain. Everything has been done through the lawyers over the years. There was one thing.”

  “What?”

  “I had assumed this was all sparked by Gloria being ill. That at some point, maybe late in her disease, she thought this was a good idea. She was impaired some.”

  “That would be easier to forgive right?”

  “Horace told me this was the first thing she did. Two days after finding out her diagnosis was terminal, she was in his office, setting this into motion. Before she did anything for Kinross Inc. Before she discussed a succession plan or the distribution of any of her other assets, she made sure the property in Italy was mine.”

  “That’s big.”

  “Right, but in which way? Should I be relieved by that or even angrier?”

  “Good question.”

  “I’m afraid to spend the whole day digging only to unearth more questions than answers. I don’t like surprises.”

  “You’ve mentioned that before. At any point I could still ask them. They are terrible liars. I pushed just the littlest bit and they panicked. Made plans to go hide in their hotel rooms.”

  “That’s not a great sign.” Her voice sounded far off and tired.

  “She did mention you.”

  “Who?” Lauren snapped back to the conversation.

  “Your mother. When I asked how things were going, she said she was supposed to meet her daughter, but she didn’t show up. They are definitely the people you were there to meet. They know you’ve been left the property.”

  “She mentioned me to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “I got disproportionately angry and defensive. I tried to voice my disappointment without breaking my promise to you. But I didn’t let on that we’ve met. I played dumb.”

  “Not a stretch for you.”

  “Glad to see you have retained your sense of humor through all of this. At least at my expense.”

  “You have to be good for something right now.”

  “My skills don’t stop at being the butt of your jokes. If you really want to feel better, I’m the man for the job.”

  There was a pause. Just enough to show him she was considering it.

  “I never got a chance to apologize for last night.” Her voice was small. Exhausted. “I was stressed. Freaked out. It was a crazy night.”

  Tray wasn’t one for conceding a point. He had become an expert at dodging any conversation or situation that required an apology. When you had access to endless funds and a jet, leaving was far more fun than admitting you were wrong.

  “I could’ve handled it better myself. You weren’t completely wrong,” he said.

  “I misread your reaction.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “So there was something there? The look in your eyes.”

  “I don’t like when people hurt women. I’ve been all over the world, and for some reason it’s one of the most universal th
ings you come across. Men who just don’t care what kind of damage they leave. I’m quick to react when I see something like that. And maybe, because it was you there on the ground, I didn’t have as much control as I should have.”

  “I’m glad you were there.”

  “Me too. But let’s forget it now. I don’t think either of us needs any extra drama right now. Our families seem to be providing plenty.”

  “Agreed. Let’s just sort this all out so we can put it behind us. Are you on your way?”

  “I am.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Don’t take too long. You’ve got to keep me grounded. I’m still considering going to Horace’s office and trying to beat more information out of him. ”

  “Put your brass knuckles away. I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 15

  Lauren

  * * *

  The box sat unopened as she buzzed Tray up to her apartment. She’d made silly excuses to herself about why she had waited. Why the box couldn’t be opened just yet. She was about to have company, so she tidied up the already clean apartment. Would he want a drink? She should check what she had in the liquor cabinet. Take a quick inventory. A few glasses were dusty; she’d just rinse them out. Where was the corkscrew in case they had wine?

  Tray tapped lightly on the door and she pulled it open with a hurried kind of excitement. How could she feel so twisted with confusion yet know very clearly that she was happy to see him? How could there be room in her for both?

  “Did you find anything?” he asked hopefully, but she gestured over to the taped-up box.

  “I haven’t looked yet.”

  “You have way more patience than I have. I’d have torn that thing open and dumped it upside down by now. I can’t ever keep my hands off things I want.”

  She smiled and let his kiss fall to the corner of her lips, his arms looping around her. “You’re here to help.”

  “I could help you relax first.” He nibbled his way down her neck and she moaned, half protest and half pleasure. “It might be good to get the blood flowing, don’t you think?”

  “I think the blood flow is going in the wrong direction.” Without much thought she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her excited breasts to his firm chest as he continued his playful kisses on her neck. The blood had clearly flooded just where he wanted it. She could feel his firmness as he backed her to the wall and pressed sensually against her.

  His warm lips pressed to her ear as her nails raced up his neck, digging in some. “We could stop and open that box. Should we?”

  “No,” she breathed out in a raspy whisper. Her legs parted, and she welcomed his firm excitement against her pleasure. “Don’t stop.” His hand climbed from her waist, under her shirt, and with precision snapped her bra off. With one fluid motion, he slid her shirt over her head and left her exposed, throbbing, and hungry for his kisses.

  “We could call Horace,” he teased as he lowered himself, licking and pinching his way down her body until he hit his knees.

  “Shut up,” she demanded as her hands caught up in his hair, his hot breath hovering over her belly button. His thumb explored her over her jeans for just a moment, looking for her sweet spot and finding it effortlessly. She was hungry for this. For a distraction. Something that would take up every inch of her senses and block out anything and everything that wasn’t his teeth unfastening her pants.

  “So we shouldn’t stop?” He leaned back, his hands on the waist of her pants, poised to free her from them. She tipped her head back, thudding it against the wall.

  “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare move.” She pulled his head to her as he slipped her jeans down her body and cast them aside. “Stop talking,” she begged. “Stop teasing.”

  “Teasing,” he breathed the word out, nibbling just above the spot he now knew would send her knees quaking and her back arching. “Teasing is so much fun.”

  She moaned and shifted her body. Her pleasure throbbed, vibrating with an intensity she couldn’t ever recall having. “Tray,” she whispered. “Oh God, Tray, I want you so badly. She fisted his shirt and pulled it over his head, clutching at his strong shoulders, running her hands through his hair, arching and moaning as he teased and tantalized every spot but one. She’d beg soon, cry out with desire if he kept this up.

  Finally, with a sharp release of pleasure he stopped teasing. Gripping her hips tightly he steadied her weakening legs and brought her to an ecstasy she’d never before experienced. One she’d not soon forget. As she quivered and cried out, he stood, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her toward the couch.

  “You’re fun to tease,” he whispered as she caught her breath and held him tightly.

  “Two can play that game,” she cautioned as he settled her onto the couch and she pulled him down on top of her.

  “Then let’s play.”

  Chapter 16

  Tray

  * * *

  Her hair, the first thing he’d noticed about her that night at the restaurant, was lying in curls over his chest, unruly and smooth. He ran a hand over her head to brush it out of her eyes.

  They’d knocked things over. Certainly bothered some neighbors. And more importantly, they’d given in to the powerful desire that had blossomed between them. That was where Tray normally set the mental timer. He’d lie like this for a half hour. Never more. Just enough time to give the impression he wasn’t running out of there. But not so much time that it led to deeper conversation or future plans. But now his palms were damp and his heart thudded as he waited for her to get up.

  Any second she would declare that there was work to be done. She’d remind him that the real world was waiting for them. And she’d tear herself off of his chest, leaving him wide open, like a wounded soldier on the battlefield. Because at some point she’d melded into him and become part of how he saw himself. When she got up, some part of him would rip away.

  The thought of the contrast to how he normally handled these situations was enough to send alarms to his brain. What was different? He was still going to leave soon. There was always going to be a jet on a tarmac ready to take him away. Always another spot in the world he wanted to explore. This situation was no different. So why did he want to hold her as long as he could.

  Because she is different. And that’s the problem.

  “I refuse to be the kind of girl who asks you what you’re thinking right now. But I will let you know the look on your face is a bit disconcerting.” She rolled, resting her chin on his chest. Those beautiful dark eyes looked up at him expectantly. “I know what it is, and let me just tell you: don’t worry.”

  “Don’t worry?” He creased his brows, wondering if she could read the concern in his eyes. Did she know he was wrestling with things he could hardly explain?

  She tapped her finger to his chest. “You look ready to run. I get that. I’ve got no illusions about who you are and what you want. I’m not here to tether you to anything. I just want you to know I’m glad you came around when you did, and I’m not foolish enough to think this is more than it is.”

  “Oh.”

  “Just look at this as if it’s a lovely dream.”

  “How so?” he asked, running his hand down her arm, looping around her elbow and coming back up. Her skin was like the finest silk he’d ever touched.

  “You ever have one of those perfect dreams? The kind that feels all floaty and light. Everything that happens in it goes your way. All you’ve ever wanted is right there at your fingertips. You’re full with that feeling, the feeling that doesn’t really have a name. It’s like a mix of excitement and contentment. It’s thrilling but at the same time completely comfortable. You’re just full. Wanting for nothing. Those are the best kinds of dreams, but eventually you have to wake up. It’s the kind of place you pass through, not a place you stay.”

  Her words penetrated the pulsing worry at his temple. She might have been trying to sum up some dream world, but for him she’d described this m
oment. The very moment he was panicked about ending. That feeling of having everything he needed right at his fingertips. “You have those dreams a lot?”

  “I used to. It’s been a while.”

  “I hope you start having them again soon. You deserve that.”

  “Well I just want you to know that sometimes even temporary bliss has its place in the world. I’m not going to ask you to stay longer than you want to. That’s not who I am. And obviously staying isn’t your thing. I don’t want you to feel trapped.

  “I don’t.” That was all he could offer up. If he dipped even a toe into the pool of emotions she stirred in him, he was sure they’d both drown.

  “Full disclosure: I was being a chicken this afternoon. Before you got here I was too afraid to open the box from Gloria. I was rinsing out martini glasses in case you wanted a specific drink. I was coming up with all these silly chores to put it off. I don’t seem to be ready to face what she’s left me.”

  He gestured down at the two of them, knotted together and wrapped in her silky pink sheets. “Was all this just another form of procrastination?”

  “Are you afraid I used you?” She climbed her fingernails up his chest and touched his chin playfully.

  “Just wondering where I rank with rinsing out martini glasses on the chore list.”

  “You’re higher than that. Not as high as rearranging the throw pillows on the couch. But it’s close.”

  “I think we rearranged the throw pillows quite well. I owe you a new coffee table. That one won’t ever be the same.”

  She rose up and kissed his lips tenderly. “We should get out of this bed. I can’t put this off any longer.”

  “I agree,” he lied. The last thing he wanted to do was let her go. But he knew for her sake it was best. “Whatever is in that box, it’ll be okay.”

  Her face fell serious. “How do you know that? You sound so certain.”

  “I am.”

  “But how?”

  “Because it has nothing to do with what’s in there, it has everything to do with who is finding it. I don’t think there is a thing you can’t do. Nothing you can’t deal with. So what’s in the box doesn’t matter. I know what’s inside you is strong.”