“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
It took several long disjointed seconds to realize she still wore the mask. When she tore it off, Trevor was there. The moment he sat on the edge of her bed she curled willingly into his waiting arms and buried her head against his chest. “You’ll never believe what happened to me.”
His warm hand stroked the back of her head, comforting. “It’s okay. Just a bad dream. Was it the mask I gave you?”
Early morning light crept into the room and things began to look more normal. Gathering her composure, she sat back, nodded and looked at him in amazement. “Yeah, the mask definitely works.” She shook the cobwebs from her mind, still shocked and in awe about what had just happened. “Boy does it ever work! I still can’t believe it. I didn’t really have a nightmare but it was intense. I dreamt about my book! About the hero in it. I was in Scotland!”
Concerned but interested, he said, “Wow, really? Nice. Were you able to control the dream?”
She blew a bit of bang away from her face and shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe. It’s hard to tell if I created everything Colin said. It seemed so real. He even went so far as to say I was really there, that I’d traveled back in time to medieval Scotland. But I suppose it makes sense I’d try to rationalize what was happening even though I knew I was in a dream state, right?”
Trevor nodded. “Sure, I guess. What’d he look like? Was he the character you’d created?”
“God no.” Her cheeks burned thinking about him. “He was so much hotter!”
Even that was a massive understatement. The man was gorgeous. Trevor didn’t have a chance to respond before she rattled on. “He was so tall, even taller than I’d envisioned him. In my book he had dirty blond hair. In my dream it was much darker, almost black with dark brownish highlights. And his eyes were amazing. Not sure what to call the color. Sort of a piercing mix of light green and blue, bright opal maybe? If I were to write it I’d say they were the color of the Atlantic thinned over coral in bright sunlight. Eerie but sexy.”
“Eerie but sexy?” Trevor chuckled.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “And he wore his hair cinched back. Kind of modern for medieval Scotland I thought, definitely not how I would’ve written it. Then there was his face.”
“Good face?” Trevor asked almost dryly.
“Great face! Again, not how I envisioned him. As you know my Colin was inquisitive so he had those arched brows to match. This Colin’s brows were straighter, as if he didn’t question much, just sort of already had everything figured out. This Colin also had lips that were used to mocking. I’ll bet they often shoot up on one side as if he finds the world a bit ridiculous if not amusing.”
“Maybe he does,” Trevor muttered, his brows furrowed. “Sounds like you prefer your Lucid Dream Colin over the man you created.”
“Actually, I do.” She shoved the blanket away and stretched, feeling more and more excited by the moment. “He’ll help inspire the hero in my next book.”
Trevor fingered the Lucid Dream mask and arched a brow. “So all and all my invention’s a success?”
“Oh my goodness, yes! You and your guys totally nailed it. Seriously hit a home run.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “The only thing you might have to worry about is people getting addicted to it. I mean this thing is crazy surreal.”
Trevor smiled and tossed the mask on her bedside table. “So what are your plans for today? Any room for me?”
“You’re staying?” she asked, thrilled. “You never stay long.”
“I’m yours for the unforeseeable future.”
McKayla ignored the odd way he said it, and smiled. “Really?”
After all, the unforeseeable future for Trevor could very likely mean two hours from now. “Good then. We’ll grab some breakfast then hop online so you can teach me more about this fabulous new device of yours.”
“Or,” he said. “We could do normal friend stuff like watch TV, take a walk or go shopping for a new car.”
McKayla burst out laughing and looked at him. She stopped laughing when she saw he was serious. “C’mon, hun. Shop for a new car? What, are you going to have it flown home?”
“No, we’re going to drive it here. Where else would we drive your new car?”
Incredulous, she raised her brows and shook her head. “I appreciate your vote of confidence but despite my book advance, I’d rather wait to see how sales do before I obligate to a new vehicle.”
Trevor looked nothing less than determined. “Then don’t obligate, let me.”
“Let you?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Let me buy you a new car. Consider it my congratulations gift.”
“Absolutely not. Besides you already gave me a congratulations gift.” She stood, pointed at the mask on the bedside table then slid into her slippers. Already in sweatpants and a t-shirt, she padded to the window overlooking the huge oak tree. “I appreciate the offer, I really do. But that takes our friendship to an uncomfy level. Even you know that.”
“Does it?” He walked over and joined her. Arms crossed over his broad chest he leaned against the windowsill and looked at her. “You have supported me every inch of the way despite our…break-up. You believed in me when nobody else did. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be half as successful as I am. What if I said it would ease my conscience if I could do something to help you? You’re going to need a car, McKayla. I promise it’ll be small and fuel-efficient.”
“I love you for offering but it’s too much.” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry I just can’t let you do that, don’t be offended. You know I think you’re wonderful. And I don’t need a new car to prove it. ”
Trevor scowled and looked out the window. “Yeah, yeah.”
The smell of brewing coffee hit her. “Leslie’s up.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Oh stop it,” she said. “Brooding doesn’t become you. Tell you what. When you hit the one million dollar mark from selling your Dream mask, I’ll let you buy me a car. Sound good?”
“We’ll see,” he said. “Let’s go get some coffee.”
Grabbing a clip off her nightstand, she cinched up her hair and followed him down to the kitchen. This whole ‘let me buy you a car’ business was Trevor’s way of deterring her from talking about his latest technology. Why he didn’t want to talk about the mask was beyond her. Maybe he thought it still needed work. Or maybe he just felt like buying a big toy. It was hard to tell with him. If nothing else, he was unpredictable and spontaneous to a fault.
Funny, he should meet Colin MacLomain. They might just get along. She hadn’t known her ‘dream Scotsman’ long but sensed he possessed the same borderline recklessness Trevor did. Both would get bored if they sat still too long. Both would appreciate extreme measures. Why she had that thought, McKayla couldn’t be sure.
Colin MacLomain.
Why would she call him that? Her mind had been so thoroughly engrossed in Colin MacLeod for the past six months it seemed almost unbelievable that she’d give him any other name. When writing about history it was imperative to learn as much as possible and to be accurate. She’d spent countless hours learning about the MacLeods, there wasn’t anything she didn’t know about them…but the MacLomains. They were a mystery. Did she bring Ferchar’s name into the dream because he was the only Scotsman she knew? Anything was possible. Still, something didn’t feel right about it.
“Good, you’re awake,” Leslie said when they entered. Tablet on, she was busy typing away. “We need to talk.”
McKayla groaned and leaned against the counter while Trevor poured them both a cup of coffee. “The sun’s just cresting the horizon on a Sunday. Do we really need to talk business this early?”
“Of course,” Leslie responded, sipping delicately from her mug while her fingers flew over the keyboard. “Besides, once Seth and Sheila are awake, productive talk gets swept under the carpet. Between paranormal investigating and saving trees, you can’t get a word in edgewise.
”
“It’s good that they have passions,” McKayla said, grateful when Trevor winked and handed her a steaming cup. It looked like it was going to be a long morning after all.
“They have hobbies.” Leslie shook her head. “If they put their efforts toward something worthwhile, that might actually make something of themselves.”
Typical Leslie, always a critic.
“If you say so.” McKayla yawned as she sat. The coffee tasted delicious. She smiled at Trevor, almost sorry that he was stuck in here too. Almost. Someone had to have her back. When he started to leave the kitchen she shook her head, ushering him back. He didn’t need to buy her a new car. Nope. But he did need to hang with her through all ‘Leslie’ related things because they were downright tedious, bordering on brutal.
“I’ve been looking over your social networking sites as well as your website. While I like the consistency between them, I can’t say I’m completely impressed with the color scheme. Did you approve this shade of yellow with the company we hired?”
“Yes, I think it looks fine,” she replied, strongly considering crawling back into bed. Anything to escape.
Leslie’s lips curled down. “I keep thinking bumble bee. So much black and yellow.”
“They’re MacLeod colors. It makes sense to focus on them as I intend to write a series. Besides, I think it looks more gold online.”
Trevor nodded, eyeing her website from his cell phone. “I agree. Definitely doesn’t scream yellow.”
“I can always depend on you to back her up,” Leslie said wryly. “For that reason, I can’t trust your opinion, Trevor.”
“Naturally,” he replied.
Leslie ignored his sarcasm and tapped the touchscreen on the tablet, minimizing, maximizing and moving windows around with enviable speed until she finally nodded. “There, I just shot your advertising company my thoughts along with color samples that I think will work better.”
Even though she was frustrated that her cousin didn’t listen to her, McKayla didn’t say anything. What was the point? It would do no good. Leslie always did things the way she thought best. Pushy was her middle name.
McKayla’s cell phone buzzed. Grabbing it off the counter she sat back down and read. Trevor had typed, “When are you ever gonna stand up to her?”
After a sip of coffee, she texted back, “You should talk.”
“Texting behind your agent’s back again?” Sheila said groggily from the doorway. With a nod of approval, she put some water on to boil and plopped a tea bag in her mug.
Though they set their cell phones aside, neither was particularly apologetic.
“They’ve always thought themselves discreet,” Leslie remarked, eyes never leaving the tablet. “And I do have a name you know.”
“Do you?” Sheila replied, yawning. Before Leslie could respond she focused on McKayla and said, “So did you enjoy your party? Better yet, I’m dying to know if the Lucid Dream mask worked.”
When McKayla looked Trevor’s way, he grinned. “I couldn’t help but share.”
“Caitlin and Ferchar are super curious too.” Sheila said. “They want details,”
“What’s this about a Lucid Dream mask?” Leslie asked though she couldn’t be bothered to look away from the screen.
“Without a shadow of a doubt, it’s a multi-billion dollar invention,” McKayla said.
This got Leslie’s attention. Lowering her reading glasses, she looked over them at Trevor. “Created by you then?”
“So it seems.” He glanced at McKayla. “Though it’s only in its trial period.”
Something about the gleam in his eyes and the way he said it made her breath catch. Why did it seem he referred to them and not the device? Was this some sort of side effect from using the contraption? Because any romance that’d existed between them was long gone. Wasn’t it? McKayla almost laughed. Of course it was.
“What’s in a trial period? Are you talking about your new invention?” Seth asked, entering the kitchen, eyes half-mast as he poured coffee then sat on the counter.
“Wow, you’re up early,” McKayla said. “Both of you actually.”
Seth nodded. “Tell me about it. I decided to hit Mount Washington today with a few friends. Overdue for some rock climbing.”
“Nice.” McKayla sulked a little. “I suppose that means you’ll be heading home after.”
“Afraid so.” He nodded at Trevor. “But I’m leaving you in good enough hands.”
Trevor seemed a little surprised by Seth’s remark but said nothing. Though they’d known one another for years, their friendship was lukewarm at best. McKayla supposed it was because they were so different. Seth was the dare-devil, Trevor the techie.
“Let’s hear more about this device,” Leslie said, removing her glasses. “I’d like to see it.”
“It’s on her bedside table,” Trevor said.
McKayla stood, intending to go get it. The men frowned and Sheila nixed her actions when she said, “Sit, sweetie. I’ll go get it.” But not before she shot Leslie a look that said ‘why don’t you get off your ass and get it?’
McKayla refilled their coffee mugs then sat down again. She abandoned her cell to fiddle with Trevor’s. Naturally, it was the latest and most expensive phone on the market. One way or another he’d always been good at making money.
Sheila dangled the contraption from her finger as she entered the room. “I assume this is it?”
Trevor nodded and Leslie held out her hand to take it.
“Yeah right,” Sheila responded and studied it rather than handing it over. “It looks fairly simple. Weighs next to nothing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a normal sleeping mask.” She peered closer. “If there’s wiring in here it’s undetectable.”
“It contains something similar to fiber optics,” Trevor said. “It’s woven into the fabric so it won’t affect the comfort.”
“What does it do exactly?” Seth asked.
McKayla couldn’t help but gush, “It literally turns your dream into another reality. One I think you can control. At least you’re supposed to be able to.”
“Really?” Sheila said. “That’s incredible.”
Leslie snatched it out of her hand and studied it closely. “Tell me what happened when you wore it, McKayla.”
“Oh, you might want to wait a sec,” Sheila said. “Looks like Caitlin and Ferchar are here.”
“Did they bring Logan?”
“Yep.”
As it turned out, their three year old son was half awake when Ferchar carried him in. He was a miniature version of his father with jet black hair and light blue eyes. Logan always seemed advanced for his age. There was an old wisdom in his young eyes. As if somehow he’d been here before. So it didn’t shock her when his gaze went straight to the Lucid Dream mask in Leslie’s hand.
He pointed at it and screeched. “Scotland!”
A sharp thrill raced through her. Ferchar’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mask. Leslie’s fingers clutched it tighter and McKayla knew her soul-reader abilities had kicked in. In fact, it occurred to her that the air crackled with a mixture of tension and curiosity.
Caitlin came in and stopped, her posture changing. Her eyes shot to the mask that she’d put on McKayla the night before. She looked at Ferchar and said, “I’m going to lie Logan down in the living room.”
Ferchar kissed his son on the cheek then handed him over. The moment his arms were free he held out his hand to Leslie. “May I see it?”
Leslie handed it to him, a rattled look on her normally composed face.
The instant the Scotsman took the mask; he inhaled sharply. His eyes flew to Trevor. A few seconds went by as the men stared at one another. She couldn’t ever remember Ferchar looking quite the way he did now. Refrained rage seemed to pulse around him and something else, something baffling. Love? The room became deadly quiet.
“You hid yourself well, cousin,” Ferchar said bitterly.
Caitlin returned,
her gaze shooting between Ferchar and Trevor. “What’s going on?”
He took her hand and said, “It seems the connection between the Brouns and MacLomains didnae end with the rings or with the death of my grandfather, Adlin.”
McKayla had no idea what was happening. Seth’s behavior was the oddest. She’d never seen him look so tense and swore his blue eyes turned black. But that couldn’t be. Sheila and Leslie were clearly baffled, their gazes flickering between the men.
“He’s Iain’s boy,” Ferchar said through clenched teeth.
“That’s impossible!” Caitlin’s eyes rounded. “Isn’t it?”
Trevor’s eyes remained locked on Ferchar’s. “I never meant to deceive anyone.”
Seth growled.
The ground felt like it dropped from beneath her. What the hell were they talking about? She looked at Trevor with confusion. “I don’t understand. What’s happening here?”
The desperation in her voice tore his gaze away from Ferchar and he took her hand. “It’s okay, Kay. Just take a deep breath and I’ll tell you everything.”
“I don’t need to take a deep breath. Just tell me why Ferchar said you’re his cousin. That makes no sense. You didn’t even know him until you met me.”
“Didn’t he?” Seth said, voice low and dangerous.
She swung impatient eyes his way. “Why are you acting like this? What the hell is going on?”
“You had a dream when you wore that mask, didn’t you McKayla?” Ferchar asked, never taking his eyes off Trevor.
“Well, yeah, but what’s that got to do with any of this?”
“Why dinnae you share your dream with your cousins,” Ferchar said. “Then I have a story to share as well.”
It was impossible not to look at each and every person in the room as she spoke. It felt like every word was somehow, in some way, changing the very course of their lives. But she shared regardless. “I dreamt about my book, about medieval Scotland. Though all I saw was a cave I did meet the hero from my story, Colin MacLeod, I mean Colin…MacLomain.”
She frowned and looked at Ferchar. “He sounded like you. At the time I assumed my mind picked out your voice because you’re the only Scotsman I know. But that’s beside the point. I wasn’t there long. We didn’t have a chance to talk too much. He told me he’d saved my life and that I wasn’t dreaming, but that I’d traveled back in time. It was all a little wacky but still an intense, unforgettable experience. What does that have to do with any of this? Speaking of…what exactly is this between you and Trevor?”
Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) Page 5