Dreaming of Love

by Melissa Foster

  DAE’S BODY WAS warm despite being drenched. Emily bumped against his muscular chest with every determined step as he trudged up the driveway toward the front door of the property. She clung to his soaking-wet T-shirt, feeling stupid for having fallen off her bike in the first place. She should have been watching the road. If she had, she could have avoided the rut in the road, but she’d been lost in thoughts of Dae. When he’d asked her about the dilapidated barn, her mind had traveled down a naughty path. She’d had thoughts of what it would be like to be stuck in that falling-down building with Dae, with no way to reach anyone outside of the barn walls. Just the two of them relying on each other for warmth and safety. With no outside influences vying for their attention. Oh, the sinful thoughts that sifted through her mind. The idea was ludicrous. They both had cell phones, and there was a farmhouse just across the field, but still, a girl could dream.

  Oh no. Am I a self-fulfilled prophecy? Did I cause this?

  Now I’m really being stupid.

  She wrapped her arms around Dae’s neck and felt his grip tighten around her as he mounted the stairs to the porch and carried her out of the rain.

  “Did I hurt you? Your whole body just tensed up.”

  You noticed? “No, it’s just the cold.”

  “I’m sorry, babe. I’ve got a key. We’ll be inside soon.” He pulled off his pack and knelt again, cradling Emily against him.

  “You have a key?” Even through the shivering cold and shock of falling from her bike, she was excited to be able to see the inside of the House of Wishes. She wondered if it would feel like a magical place that made wishes come true.

  “Of course. The assessment is more than just taking in the exterior.” He fished around in the backpack for the keys as thunder rumbled overhead. She startled, and he stopped fishing for the keys and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

  “I’ve got you, babe. Sounds like we’re in for a worse storm than we’d anticipated.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I fell.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “Otherwise we’d still be riding in the rain. We’re a good distance from Adelina’s, remember?”

  He kissed her forehead as he withdrew the keys. “Yes, I remember. How’s your ankle?”

  She wiggled her foot. It didn’t hurt too badly, just a little shock of pain, like when she’d twisted her ankle as a kid. “Twingy.”

  “Twingy. Even injured you’re cute as hell.” He rose to his feet and unlocked the door. “Let’s get your twingy ankle inside and see how bad off it really is.” He had to jiggle the key a few times, but eventually the heavy wooden door creaked open. Dae carried her into a stone foyer that must have been twenty feet deep and only about half as wide. The dampness didn’t just follow them in; it greeted them front and center, surrounding them with a moist, cold feeling. Definitely not the magical feel Emily had imagined. A small puddle formed at Dae’s feet and trickled along the crevices of intricately laid mosaic tiles beneath his drenched sneakers. Thick stone walls rose to an arched ceiling, and two archways led into other rooms off to the right. A wide staircase curved toward the second floor and took up nearly the entire back wall of the foyer. The door blew further open with a blast of wind as thunder cracked across the sky. Dae tightened his grip on her again and used his shoulder to push the door closed, then tried the light switch.

  “Electricity’s off. That means the water’s off, too.”

  “At least we’re dry. You can put me down. You’ve carried me a long way, and I’m sure I’m heavy.” Emily wasn’t overweight, but she didn’t want him to feel as though he had to take care of her. She had spent her life proving how strong and self-sufficient she was. It took a little getting used to for her to allow herself to be cared for in this way.

  His eyes met hers with a look that told her he’d make the decision as to when he’d set her down. And the way he clenched his jaw told her that the decision was not negotiable.

  She shifted her eyes away before she barked out that she was fine and could walk by herself. Or hobble, maybe. Hop? She had to remind herself that Dae wasn’t one of her brothers mollycoddling her, and although she hated feeling like a damsel in distress, she was enjoying being in his strong arms. She allowed herself to lean against him and accept the comfort he offered.

  “Look at this place. This type of high-arched stone ceiling isn’t very common. It’s reminiscent of a thirteenth-century building, and I’d guess this one to be nineteenth century, or maybe even a little later.”

  He smiled down at her. “You’re sexy as hell when you go all architectural girl on me. We’re in the twenty-first century now, so let’s see if they have someplace comfortable and dry from this era where you can relax and get warm.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t this the least bit impressive to you?” How could he not be enamored with the design of the house? He didn’t have to be an architect to appreciate a beautiful structure. Or did he overlook those things altogether? No, she reminded herself. He’d been the one to guide her to the house in the first place. He must have been taken with its beauty.

  “You’re impressive to me. This place will be more impressive when you’re warm and dry and I know your ankle is okay.” He walked through the first archway and stopped at the sight of an enormous empty room. Cracks snaked up the stucco walls. The tile floors were laid unevenly and a bit cockeyed. For some reason, that appealed to Emily. Outside, rain thrashed against the large windows that faced the front yard. Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed menacingly in the darkness.

  “I don’t know why I thought the house might have furniture.” His jaw clenched and unclenched.

  “Where’s the tree?” She’d thought they’d be able to see it from this room. The tree had seemed so large, but maybe she’d misjudged the depth of it. “I want to see the tree from the inside of the house.” She heard her voice tremble, and Dae’s eyes turned serious. The pelting of rain on the windows sounded like BBs hitting in rapid fire. She tightened her grip on his arm.

  “Don’t worry, babe. We’re safe.” He looked around the room. “Huh. Where is that damn tree?” Dae turned with her still in his arms and returned to the foyer.

  Now she felt a little silly. She wasn’t afraid of thunderstorms. Why was she shaking and clinging to him?

  “Dae, really, put me down. I can hobble beside you.” Her tone was so soft that she wasn’t convinced she meant it.

  He ignored the request and went through another arched doorway.

  “I like carrying you. And your teeth are chattering.”

  Are they? Damn, they were.

  Dae carried her into a large modern kitchen with dark wooden cabinets, terra-cotta floors, and a substantial marble-topped island. An iron pot rack hung from dark exposed beams in the ceiling. There was a large table with three wooden chairs on the far side of the room. The chairs matched the one she’d seen in the portico off the side of the house.

  Her eyes slid around the room. Emily wanted to see the tree, and to see the tree, they had to find the rear wall of the house. The anticipation was killing her. As an architect, she wanted to see the internal structure of the obscurity. As a woman, she wanted to see the tree that gave life to wishes.

  “Dae. There.” She pointed to a door in the corner of the room. He carried her over and opened the door with ease. Even after carrying her through the rain, his clothing drenched, his shoes sloshing across the tile floors, he didn’t seem to be straining under her weight.

  The door led to a narrow stucco hallway. There was another door to their right.

  “Third time’s a charm, right?” He turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  “Holy crap,” Emily said. “Wow. Go, go, go.” She leaned forward, excited by the sight of the massive tree that invaded the back wall of the house. She should have been prepared for how spectacular the image was, but how could anyone be prepared for something that was structurally impossible? She glanced at Dae and realized that she’d also thoug
ht he was an impossibility in her life. Not him specifically, but finding a man whom she would never be able to imagine a life without. And yet here he was.

  She shifted her eyes back to the tree. Its magnificence rivaled that of the myth it bore. Emily knew she’d never understand the anomaly before her, and maybe she didn’t need to. She stole another glance at Dae. Maybe she didn’t need to fully understand everything about Dae either.

  “This must be the original structure, and then maybe they added the wall separating the original side of the house from later renovations instead of tearing down the tree.” She took in the expansive furnished room. It hummed with energy.

  “Feel that?” she whispered.

  His only answer was a kiss to her trembling lips.

  “Red velvet. Now, that’s the type of couch I was hoping for.” His eyes darted around the room as he knelt beside the couch. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you comfy.” He balanced Emily on his knee while he brushed dust from the velvet cushions. He eyed two chairs at the far end of the room and a fancy wooden trunk tucked beneath the window.

  She watched him silently assessing every inch of the room. She’d never felt safer. Her brothers would look after her in this way, but somehow it felt different with Dae. There was a certain sibling obligation with her brothers that was always present, but with Dae the caring went deeper and was without blood-born obligation.

  “You make a great hero, you know that?” She leaned forward and kissed his scruffy cheek.

  “Hero?” He laughed, and it vibrated right through him. A deep, alluring sound that Emily wanted to hear every day of her life.

  “Yeah. As much as I hate the notion, I’m the damsel in distress and you’re the hero.”

  He laid her on the luxurious couch. “Babe, you could never be a damsel in distress. I have a feeling that left to your own devices, you’d have not only gotten to this villa, but you’d have dragged the bikes right along with you.”

  She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or if it annoyed him that she was so self-sufficient.

  “You’ve gone quiet on me. Are you okay?” he asked.

  He really did notice every breath she took. “Yeah. Do you think I’m not feminine? Am I too—”

  “Baby, you’re covered in mud, you’ve got pebbles lodged in your cheek and a twisted ankle, and you’re worried about being feminine?” He sealed his lips over hers in a tender kiss. As he drew back, he caressed the side of her face that wasn’t scratched. “Not only are you the sexiest, most feminine woman I know, but your strength is part of your appeal. The reason you’re not a damsel in distress is that you are the perfect combination of intelligence, femininity, and determination. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  He kissed her again, and she warmed all over at his loving words. How did he always know just what to say and do? You wouldn’t change a thing. And there she was having trouble accepting his career.

  He pulled his wet shirt over his head and draped it over the edge of the couch. Emily’s mouth went dry. Would she ever get used to seeing his incredible body?

  He knelt beside her again and ran his hand down her side. “Lean forward, and I’ll help you take your shirt off.”

  “Um...” Despite her injury and the mud soaking her hair and clothing, despite the cold and the unfamiliar surroundings, she was getting turned on.

  He laughed. “I’m not a pig, Em. I’m not going to take advantage of you while you’re lying here muddy and scratched up with a hurt ankle. I just want to get your wet shirt off so your skin can dry and you can warm up.”

  She leaned forward, and he gently took off her shirt. He pressed his cheek to hers and whispered, “I’d like to say that I won’t look, but I’d be lying.” He kissed her neck, then slid his hand down her leg to her ankle. In a flash, the desire in his eyes turned to compassion.

  “I’m so sorry that you got hurt.” He kissed her shoulder, and the tender touch spiked a dash of pain.

  Emily tried not to flinch.

  “Hurts?” His eyes were so serious she knew she couldn’t lie.

  “Just a tiny bit.”

  “Baby, I wish you hadn’t fallen.” He kissed the spot below where he’d touched her shoulder.

  “It’s my own fault. I wasn’t looking at the road.” She realized that she wasn’t embarrassed sitting there in her bra and shorts in front of Dae. She’d never been comfortable naked in front of any of the three men she’d been intimate with. She’d always felt as if she were being compared to other women or looked over altogether like she was a means to an end. She was barely comfortable unclothed in front of women. This was new and unfamiliar territory. Dae looked at her like she was the only thing on his mind, and not in a sexual way, but in an I’m-going-to-make-sure-you’re-safe-and-happy-forever kind of way, and she liked that more than anything. He loved her. She knew this deep in her core. She never even knew she was capable of knowing such a thing. Who knew feelings this big existed except in dreams? Then again, everything about being with Dae was new and unfamiliar. The safety and love he lavished on her was more powerful and ran deeper than a family member or friend could ever provide. She trusted him, and as she watched him, she knew she was truly in love with him. Despite her misgivings about their differences.

  He unlaced her sneakers and carefully removed them.

  “It’s not your fault. It just happened. Let’s see how badly you’re hurt, and then I’ll go see if I can rustle up some water to clean you up.” His fingers hovered over her ankle. “Can I touch it?”

  She nodded and clenched her jaw just in case it hurt.

  “I’ll be gentle. I promise.” He wrapped his fingers around her ankle and applied a little pressure. “Does that hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I think it’s only when I flex it.”

  “Okay, let’s just be sure.” He cupped her heel in one hand and gently squeezed her foot, keeping his eyes trained on hers as he moved up toward her ankle, applying pressure every few centimeters and then above her ankle as well. “You’re holding your breath. Does it hurt?”

  “No. I just wasn’t sure if it would.” She held on to his biceps. “Go ahead. You can flex it.”

  He nodded. She felt his muscles harden beneath her palm and knew he was worried about hurting her. He flexed her foot, and she flinched. The thought of the pain was worse than the twinge she felt, but the concern in Dae’s eyes might have helped soften that a little.

  “How bad?”

  “Not bad.”

  He turned her foot out a little, and she flinched again and sucked in air between her teeth. Okay. That smarted.

  He frowned. “It’s pretty bad. And don’t even try to tell me it’s not.”

  Emily opened her mouth to dispute him, but his piercing stare shut her down, and in truth, it hurt just enough that she knew she shouldn’t deny it. Not even to keep him from worrying.

  “I think you probably strained a ligament. You need to ice it and take some ibuprofen.”

  “Ice it? There’s no electricity, which means no ice.”

  “Luckily, your overprepared boyfriend has just the thing.” He grabbed the pack and rummaged through it. “Ibuprofen.”

  “I like it when you say you’re my boyfriend. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a real boyfriend.”

  He caressed her cheek and softened his tone. “I say it a lot so I can hear it, too. I can hardly believe I’m the lucky guy who gets to call himself your boyfriend.”

  “Dae.” He was the lucky one? She’d point out that it was she who felt like she’d fallen from the plane and landed in a four-leaf-clover patch, but he was back in caregiver mode and handing her two pills and a water bottle.

  “Swallow ’em down, babe.”

  “I’ll never tease you again.” She tossed the tablets in her mouth and took a gulp of water.

  “What fun would that be?” He pulled out a light blue bag from the backpack and began kneading it. He folded it and prodded it with his thumbs, then held it out toward Emil
y. “Ice for my favorite girl.”

  She touched the cold bag.

  “Chemicals are awesome, aren’t they?” His lips spread in a wide smile. “Ready for the cold?”

  “I guess.” She loved how he kept his eyes on hers while he placed the bag on her ankle.

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s cold, but fine.”

  “Here, hold this, and I’ll clean you up.”

  She held it to her ankle as he rummaged through his first-aid kit again and withdrew a roll of gauze. He poured water on the gauze, then tucked her wet hair behind her ears and drew his brows together as he gently cleansed her face. She imagined she looked like a drowned rat, with her hair plastered to her head and her cheeks and nose pink with cold, and she was glad she couldn’t see herself.

  “I wish I had a dry blanket to wrap you in. Once we get you cleaned up, I’ll see about finding something to warm you up.”

  “I’m okay.” She might be wet and cold, but she had never felt more okay in all her life.

  “You’re always okay, but that doesn’t mean you’re really okay.”

  She noticed that his eyes narrowed as he moved to her other cheek. “What?”

  “You have scratches, and there are two pebbles embedded in your cheek. I can get them out, but I don’t want to hurt you, so can you lay your head back and just close your eyes?”