Sweet Dreams

by Stacey Keith

  Jake raised one eyebrow, obviously trying to understand what they were talking about.

  “Well, to tell you true, I heard you might be…busy,” Coralee said in an undertone. “Leastways, that’s what folks here is sayin’.”

  Maggie suppressed a groan of annoyance. There was only one place they could have heard that—Priscilla.

  “How’d you figure that out with the glass and all?” Coralee wanted to know. “I went out this morning and got me a whole mess of glow sticks on account on this one’s out already and—”

  “You’re supposed to eat the cake, Coralee,” Maggie said, “not stare at it.”

  “The hell you say! Ed tried to tuck into it and I near about tore his head off. Speakin’ of which, so cute the way you got his arms all stretched up like that. Ed says it’s just like being there.”

  Maggie laughed, which drew a puzzled look from Jake. Then she asked Coralee if she wanted to look after the bakery for a few days.

  “You mean by myself?” Coralee exclaimed. “The baking and everything?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Coralee gave a whoop that was probably for Ed’s benefit and then the line went dead. What do you know? Maggie thought. If she’d known how happy it would make her, she would have baked Coralee a cake and taken a vacation months ago

  “Are we really doing this?” she asked Jake, who was still rummaging. “I don’t even have my passport.”

  He stuck his head out and winked. “You’re with me. You don’t need a passport.”

  “Seriously?” She sighed, thinking about the time she and a few friends went to Mexico, how long they stood in line with sunburns and needing a restroom. “I didn’t bring enough things to wear.”

  “The hotel is right in the heart of Montmartre. We can get whatever you need. Let me just call Emma and then we’re out the door.”

  While Jake made his phone calls, Maggie showered, dressed and then wandered through the house.

  She’d never seen anyplace more beautiful. Everything was glass and marble, but there were textures, too, that warmed the masculine space—nubby throw pillows in a rainbow of colors. Spiral-shaped lamps. For someone who’d been raised by wolves, Jake sure had gorgeous taste.

  Strange how she’d been holding her breath ever since this morning. The things he’d said had affected her deeply, but there was this other part that had taken a while to sink in. He was the strongest man she’d ever known. But what part of himself did he have to sacrifice in order to rise above? What if he could never get it back again?

  She went upstairs and blinked in awe when she saw a kitchen the size of a church, flanked by stained-glass windows. From the breakfast room, she spotted a helipad with a helicopter on it. All this Jake had earned himself. None of it was given to him. He’d taken nothing—less than nothing—and created beauty.

  When Todd was wooing her, he picked her up in his old beater truck with the rusted bumpers and the rifle rack drilled to the back of the cab. They’d go up to Hunter’s Point to make out. Todd was a million lifetimes ago, a dream that died before it had a chance to live. Now she was walking through a different sort of dream and her eyes were fully open.

  But like all beautiful dreams, it might only exist for a minute. When it died, would she have the grace and the dignity to let go?

  Jake popped into the kitchen. “Are you ready?”

  She spun around, surprised because she hadn’t heard him come up the stairs. His skin glowed from a recent shave. The soft blue Henley he wore played up the color of his eyes. Just looking at him made her ask herself what she would do when he was gone. How would she deal with the memory of this moment when he stood here, sexy as hell, ready to take her to Paris?

  Jake put his hand out for her. His hand was warmer than hers. Stronger. She was comforted by that.

  He had a driver take them to the airport. Once again Maggie felt like royalty when she crossed the tarmac and then climbed the stairs. How strange that being in love was a happy kind of dying. It made you feel as though the world was created just for the two of you, that you had a secret no one else could know or understand.

  On the flight over, Maggie fell asleep with her head on Jake’s chest. She dreamed—not of Paris, but of him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Paris was so much more than Maggie could have ever imagined. The days flew by in a giddy blur of French bistros, jambon beurre on warm crusty baguettes, and the dark aromatic seduction of coffee, which practically billowed out of the cafés.

  First it would rain, and she and Jake would huddle beneath a café umbrella, watching people scurry by. Then the sun would come out, the puddles would dry, and the whole city would be washed clean again.

  As intoxicated as she was by the perfumes at the shops on the Champs -Elysées, by the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, by the public gardens bursting with rain-splattered roses, her favorite part of the day was simply wandering the streets hand-in-hand with Jake.

  She loved the Seine, which flowed through the center of Paris like a piece of living history, dotted with pleasure boats and spanned by bridges. And then as night descended, Paris put on her dinner clothes, and the lights made shimmering reflections of themselves on the water. Maggie felt as though she were walking inside a painting. Paris cast a spell over her far from the prying eyes of Cuervo.

  But no matter what she did, she couldn’t stop time. And she wanted so much more of it. She wanted these days to go on forever. They visited one of Paris’s most famous bakeries and she got to experience what it felt like to be on the opposite side of the display case. Inside were thin layers of opera cake soaked in coffee syrup and slathered with buttercream. Jewel-like macarons made out of pink meringue. Cream puffs dipped in caramelized sugar. All she could think about was Jake and his brother making noodles in a coffee maker. Then he would smile at her and she fell in love with him all over again.

  Maggie dreaded the moment when Jake would say good-bye.

  She didn’t want to think about that now. Not on their last morning in Paris. They were out on the terrace of his hotel, the sky so blue, all of Montmartre spread before them and the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

  So what if there were a few dark clouds looming on her inner horizon? She was here, and the man she loved was sitting in a chair beside her. There were tiny cups of French coffee and a basket of fresh croissants. Paper-thin slices of ham lay on a white plate.

  He cupped her chin, one thumb tracing the curve of her lips. “Happy?”

  “It still feels like a dream, and I’m waiting to wake up.”

  “Maybe the awake part is actually better than the dream.”

  She gazed at him and felt the heat of his eyes move over her. Through her. “Is it crazy to want you all the time?” she asked breathlessly. “Even when I see you across a room? Even when we’re standing in line for coffee?”

  “Does it frighten you?”

  She nodded, wondering why that was true.

  “Fear just means it matters,” he said. “It means you’ve got something to lose.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “Always,” Jake replied, and he had that quiet smile that never stopped getting to her, the one that tugged mysteriously at the corners of his mouth.

  “Why?” she asked. “What part are you afraid of?”

  “The part where I fuck it up,” he said with a somberness that pulled at her. “I’m in love with you, Maggie.”

  She looked at him in astonishment, thinking he might make light of it or let her know he was joking. But his blue eyes were serious. And suddenly she was aware of how quickly her pulse had started pounding. How hot her skin felt, flushed and prickly.

  Jake would never say such a thing unless he meant it. Even though he’d shown her in a thousand ways how much he cared, hearing it was an arrow through the heart.

  She couldn’t speak
. Her throat was dry, and even if she knew the words to explain what she was feeling, she wouldn’t be able to say them. She wanted to whisper that she loved him, too. Loved the vulnerable child he once was. His secret sweetness. He’d overcome so much, and now look at him.

  So she showed him the only way she could. She shifted on to his lap, facing him in the armless chair, and fused her lips to his in a lush, open-mouthed kiss. Her entire heart was in that kiss. They stayed like that for a long time, breathing in the dark elixir of their arousal, the breeze ruffling wisps of their hair. She’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him right now. Her body roared with desire.

  They were both naked underneath white terrycloth bathrobes. She slipped her hands inside his bathrobe, parting it to reveal his smooth, muscular chest. Her eyes filled with the heat of tenderness.

  She couldn’t hold back now. It was all here, all out, hearts on the table. He’d given her his. Now she had to show him what that meant to her.

  His tongue explored hers, slow and sure and drugging. All she could think about was this searing fusion that boiled the blood inside her veins, that made her quiver with the violence of love and passion.

  She would never be the same after this. Never. She could try, because that’s what she did. Right foot. Left foot. Put on the brave front. But every moment of her life before this moment, before Jake showed her what it was truly like to be made love to, was a sad testament to how things could have been but never were. No one had cared before. No one had taken the time. She didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. Jake made her new again. And if she lost him now, she might die without him.

  With her thighs straddling his lap, Jake parted his knees and he sprang free, gloriously hard and thick and heavy. She wrapped her hand around him and heard his sharp intake of breath.

  She wanted. Oh, God, how she wanted. His strength was so sexy, but it was his vulnerability that undid her.

  When he pulled the robe away from her shoulders and pressed his warm lips to her sensitized skin, she felt tingles cascading all the way down to her sex. His strong, square jaw was covered in stubble. It rubbed her and scraped her and made her want more.

  Her hands roamed over his broad chest and strong arms. They skimmed the wide flare of his back. Anticipation made each nerve ending purr as though an ignition had been started. Every muscle between her legs gave one long delicious erotic clench.

  Their mouths met while he brushed his thumbs back and forth over her breasts. All this dark heat gathered itself into a ball of blazing need, tighter, hotter as he surged against her. The excitement of his satiny hardness bumping and pulsing made her feel as though if she couldn’t have him, she would burst apart.

  He ran his tongue over her stiff peaks, swirling and nibbling. Sparks of pleasure went up like flash paper across her skin.

  “Maggie…” he muttered against her throat. She knew he was asking her to get the condoms. She knew how urgently he wanted this because she wanted it, too—would have done anything to feel him inside her. But that was just it. She wanted to feel him inside her.

  “Not that, Jake,” she said huskily. “Just you.”

  He blinked, a little dazed. “I’ve never had unprotected sex before. What if you get—”

  “Pregnant? Don’t bet on it.” I should be so lucky.

  He made a sound deep in his throat, a cross between a groan and a growl. Then he lifted her on top of him so that just the tip slid inside the first inch or two of her wet, eager folds.

  “You’re sure, Maggie?”

  “Oh, yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and braced her toes on the floor. He gazed up at her, his eyes gleaming. Then he pushed her down over him, bit by bit, stretching her, and ecstasy tore through her body. She cried out.

  Who knew this could be such a wild, violent joy? She felt the pure, slick heat of him. The intimacy of it filled her and made her gasp as she surrounded him. Slowly she worked her swollen flesh over his, setting the pace. There was no barrier between them now. They were heart to heart. Flesh to flesh. He’d told her his deepest secrets, the things he was most ashamed of. And now this whole new world had opened up between them.

  Jake grasped under her thighs and pulled her open to receive him more deeply and she gave a convulsive shiver. Fire rippled beneath her skin. She couldn’t stop the noises that escaped her, even though they were on a balcony and someone would surely hear. Urgency overrode her natural politeness. Nothing mattered but this.

  She rocked her hips, bucking and sliding, first just lipping the head and then taking the smooth ride to the bottom. Warning bells went off inside her womb as it coiled and tightened, pressure building higher and higher. She felt him so deeply, so hugely. She’d never been this high before, and his gaze devoured her. Fiery pleasure torched her entire body and her orgasm exploded, rocketing outward, racking shudders making her squeeze around him.

  Dimly, she realized that Jake was coming, too, pulsing inside her in heavy, full-body jerks. They were lost in mindless pleasure together. His hoarse, strangled sounds blended with her soft cries as she felt him flood her, lick after lick. The perfection of it, the rightness, radiated out in ever-softening waves.

  For the first time, Maggie knew. She knew.

  Reality was sweeter than any dream.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Good-bye, Paris.

  Gazing out the window of his 767, Jake watched the city getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared. Turbulence made the coffee cup next to him rattle in its saucer. He heard the flight crew talking in the galley and the sound of a bin door slamming. Maggie was already asleep on the couch.

  It was tempting to just stretch out beside her. But they’d spent plenty of time together and he had a lot of business to catch up on.

  After settling into one of the club chairs, he listened to his messages. Just more of the same—shareholder meetings, business lunches, some stupid faux-charity event. But there were a few preliminary applications for the techpark, which he was glad to see. He made phone calls and returned emails. While Maggie slept, he ate lunch and read the papers.

  Hours passed, and she was still out. It made him lonely and restless. The closer they got to Cuervo, the harder it was to banish old worries. The monsters in his closet were coming back. He could feel them. They kept spit-balling thoughts at him. They kept asking: how fair is it to date a woman who wants kids? Are you looking for another family to ruin? What makes you think you have one damn thing to give a kid?

  Jake spent the entire flight wrangling those monsters in his head until the plane finally landed at Victoria Regional. The road to Cuervo was pitch black beyond the reach of his headlights. Not even the moon was up.

  It was late by the time they got back, so Jake took Maggie to the ranch. They ended up in bed, making love with that same mixture of urgency and tenderness that characterized so many of their encounters now. Touching her made it easier not to think—and Christ, he didn’t want to.

  But the weight of those nameless, faceless thoughts pressed down on him.

  Hard.

  After dropping Maggie off at Sweet Dreams the next morning, Jake walked the block to the Regal. It sure wasn’t Paris. Still, he felt more like himself finally. Maybe being back in Texas would cure him of this sudden restlessness. He used to like this walk from the bakery to the Regal, how the canopy of trees made dappled patterns on the sidewalk. Now all he could think about was the empty lot next to the theater that was full of weeds and broken glass. It reminded him of every trash-strewn, motor-oiled patch of dirt he played in as a boy in east Texas.

  Or maybe he was just tired. All that sex was probably killing him.

  It was cooler inside the Regal. He could tell at once that Pete had made progress while he was gone. Jake swiped a hard hat off the bench and did a thorough inspection of the lobby. Then he went inside the auditorium itself. Workmen were pu
shing industrial sanders across the stage, which made the air smell like hot metal and wood shavings. Up near the ninety foot ceiling, three men on scaffolds were doing the painstaking work of restoring the Art Deco mural. It was Jake’s favorite part of the theater, so he watched with interest.

  While Jake stood there, Todd came ambling down the aisle. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, hat in hand, boots all pointy, eyes roaming around the place.

  Oh, for Chrissake, Jake thought irritably. Why now?

  “Boy, it’s really comin’ along,” Todd said. “You might actually be able to do something with this old shit pile.”

  Jake went back to watching the men on the scaffold. If he lost his temper now, there’d be hell to pay. But it was hard to keep your cool when your hands had an edgy, twitchy feel to them and all you could think about was seeing the other guy with his nose broken.

  With a big helping of that hokey cowboy charm Jake hated, Todd said, “Where you been? I came lookin’ for you. Maggie, too. Then I asked myself, where did those love birds fly off to?”

  Jake’s blood pressure inched up, but he did his best to ignore the heat. “Since when is what we do any of your business?”

  Todd grinned. Nothing could wipe that stupid grin off Todd’s face. But there was a glint to his eye like a horse that figured out it had just gotten the spurs. “Maggie’s always my business,” he said. “Divorce don’t change that.”

  “Don’t kid yourself.”

  “See, me and Maggie got ourselves a whole lot of something you don’t have and never will.”

  “What’s that?” Jake said. “A stack of divorce papers?” Cheating?

  Todd wasn’t smiling now. In fact, those pale eyes of his were the same ones Jake might have seen on a rattler. “Me and Maggie got ourselves damn near ten years of history that even a rich fucker like you can’t buy.”

  Jake planted his legs wide and crossed his arms. Do. Not. Hit. Him. Christ, how he wanted to. “What are you doing here, Todd? Did you come all the way here just to be a dick? Because I pretty much knew that already.”