The Complete Where Dreams

by M. L. Buchman

  Hogan got up and went into the apartment. He came back with a tumbler with three fingers of scotch in it and handed it to Russell who knocked it straight back.

  “Hey,” Josh tried to make it light, “where’s mine? I’m the one who almost got killed here.”

  “Yes,” Hogan acknowledged as he settled back into his chair without fetching another glass. “But he needs it more.”

  Josh looked back at Russell.

  He really did look like a living wreck.

  “Nachos? I haven’t eaten nachos in years.” Melanie looked at the spread of appetizers before them. The clams weren’t fattening by themselves, but eating them without the focaccia bread, which was practically dripping with butter, would be a crime. The deep fried calamari was popular with the table, though she’d never been a big fan of it. But nachos. She had a totally ridiculous weak spot for nachos.

  “It’s okay,” Perrin dipped a piece of the bread into the clam juices, bit off a chunk, and sighed happily as she bit in. “Nothing here has calories or fat. Not as long as we’re all together. It’s one of the rules.”

  Melanie could already feel that second glass of wine. She never drank two glasses. Truth be told, she never drank one. She tried closing one eye, then both. But the nachos were still there teasing her nose. She opened one eye, the others were watching her.

  “You are all bad influences.”

  There was a small cheer and much pride displayed around the table. “Don’t make us suffer alone!”

  Melanie didn’t. She dipped the crab nacho into the dish of fresh-made guacamole and decided she was going to have to marry the chef.

  “So, how far along are you?”

  “With what?” Melanie really hoped Perrin was asking about her business. Even if Melanie hadn’t told Perrin she was working on it, she really hoped that’s what it was.

  Perrin’s eye roll informed Melanie that her hopes were dashed.

  Jo and Cassidy looked perplexed, so no one was talking behind her back at least. Though Maria’s smile looked far too knowing for her comfort.

  Melanie looked back at Perrin and assessed the situation. Nope, no way out of it. So, she’d give a little.

  “We spent the day taking a ferry over to Bainbridge Island for lunch.”

  “So, that’s why you left my shop so fast,” Perrin nodded and Melanie would leave her with possession of that bit of misinformation. It had been embarrassing enough sharing a full panic attack with Joshua; she didn’t intend to share it with the rest of the world.

  “Wait!” Cassidy held up her hands. “Wait just a second.” She leaned forward as far as she could without upsetting the table. “You and who?”

  She opened her mouth but Perrin leapt in on her moment of hesitation.

  “She’s sleeping with Josh Harper.”

  “I am not!”

  “You’re both staying in Angelo’s condo; so you’re sleeping together. If you’re doing that in separate beds, you need to have your head examined. He is majorly cute.”

  “He is not!”

  All four women turned to her at her protest and she knew she was caught, because Joshua most definitely was cute on any woman’s scale. Discretion apparently lay at the bottom of her now empty wine glass. Well, if she had put her foot in it, she might as well go all the way. With a shrug, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder.

  “He’s not cute.” She pictured him standing by the ferry ramp, still watching her when she turned back to check. The afternoon sun had lit his dark hair like the finest walnut furniture. His face, the brightening of his smile as she’d turned to look back and found him still watching her. The way he made her feel.

  “He’s beautiful.”

  “Answer. The. Blasted. Question.” Russell’s growl sounded positively feral. Great, Josh was caged on a high and narrow balcony with a guy Hulking-out to twice his already substantial size.

  “Which blasted question?” No way he was going to make it easy for the man.

  Russell’s glare deepened, if that was possible. “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

  Most of the anger-bloated Hulk went away, and the slightly sad man had returned. “Why not?”

  “Why am I not sleeping with the woman you just threatened to kill me over? What kind of a stupid question is that, Russell?”

  “My kind. Cassie’s always telling me I’m an idiot, but Melanie’s really special. I don’t want anyone messing with her.”

  Joshua considered ramming Russell’s words right back down his throat as he was obviously someone who’d obliterated his own rules.

  Russell held up his hands in resignation.

  “I know. Just don’t go there. Let’s just acknowledge that I was a lost idiot before I met Cassie and she straightened me out.”

  So, Josh didn’t go there. That’s what friends were for. Or at least what you did for someone who’d resisted killing you outright. He bought himself some time to think by going in to get a glass of scotch. After a moment’s consideration, he grabbed three tumblers and brought back the bottle, refilling Russell’s before he handed round the rest.

  They all raised a toast to the setting sun and knocked it back, at least he and Russell did. Bill and Hogan showed a little more control and left some in their glasses.

  “I’m not sleeping with her for a lot of reasons. One, I’ve only known her for about two days. Two, I don’t want someone as amazing as her to be my ‘rebound’ girl from my divorce because she deserves better than that. Three, because she deserves better than me. And four, because she deserves someone who sees Melanie, not the supermodel, and I can’t seem to get around that entirely because the woman is so breathtaking. Happy now?”

  Russell studied Josh long enough in silence for Josh to feel that his throat was dry, so he sipped his beer rather than risking a look for where the scotch bottle had gone.

  Then Russell turned to consult Bill and Hogan who nodded in response.

  Russell cursed softly. “I always thought you were a decent enough guy, Josh. Did you have to go and prove it so that I look like more of an idiot than I am?”

  “Sure,” Josh tapped his beer against Russell’s empty scotch glass, then sat back to enjoy the view and the company. “What are friends for?”

  “Oh,” Perrin placed a hand over her heart. “Dreamy kiss on a ferry boat. I hadn’t thought of that. I need to take Bill out on a ferry crossing and get a kiss that sounds that dreamy.”

  “I’ve always liked Josh,” Cassidy started with a nod that probably continued far longer than she intended. She was looking distinctly blurred and Melanie was pretty sure it wasn’t only her own perception through several glasses of wine that was causing it. “He’s a wonderful guy. Not as amazing as my Russell, but a good guy. Known him since forever and I always liked Josh. He’s a good gu— Hey, Melanie?”

  “What?”

  Cassidy had stopped nodding and come slightly back into focus. “You and Josh would make an amazing couple.”

  Perrin jabbed Cassidy in the arm, “Hello. Welcome to the conversation. Can you picture the dress I could make them?”

  Jo shook her head, “No.” She shook back her long mane of dark hair, even drunk her posture was upright and elegant.

  Melanie suspected that nothing disturbed the woman’s lawyerly manner.

  “You can’t get Josh to wear a dress. You have to make the dress for Melanie. Suit for Mr. Har-penter,” she interrupted herself with a ladylike hiccup. She found her water glass on her third attempt.

  “I don’t know,” Perrin’s smile said that she was clearly still the most coherent of the three, though maybe not by much. “Josh is so pretty. We could put him in the dress and Melanie in a suit.”

  “I,” Melanie drew herself upright to protest the conversation going on without her. “I am not marrying anyone.”

  Cassidy, Jo, and Perrin ignored her.

  Maria Parrano took her hand, drawing Melanie’s
attention. With a gentle pressure, she pulled Melanie close enough for her to speak softly despite the noise of the bar and the ongoing debate over Melanie’s wedding day.

  “You will, you know.”

  “Will what?” Melanie wondered if it was her or if Maria’s words made no particular sense. Melanie had switched over to water some time ago and was pretty sure she was only a little tipsy.

  Maria’s eyes were perfectly clear. “Oh dear girl,” Maria kissed her on each cheek. “You will make a beautiful couple.”

  Melanie wasn’t sure who was leading who home. Cassidy lived only a few blocks up the hill and had offered her a spare bedroom. At some point after Maria’s comment, Melanie had switched back to wine without quite noticing how.

  She suspected that Cassidy had been more coherent than she appeared and filled Melanie’s water glass with a refreshing white wine when she wasn’t paying enough attention.

  No matter, she had neither the energy nor the inclination to return to the Pioneer Square condo. Joshua would probably be there and she wanted a little distance from him, at least enough to stop herself from jumping him. Because after the four women… No. After her four friends poking and prodding her and talking about their own husbands, both the appreciated quirks and the not so appreciated, she was certainly feeling ready to jump one Mr. Joshua Har-penter.

  Somehow between them, she and Cassidy climbed the nighttime Seattle streets; the night still alive with music from bars, their doors open and people enjoying late night treats around little tables at sidewalk cafes. They made it into Cassidy’s condo. She aimed Cassidy into the master bedroom, where Russell’s soft snores indicated that he hadn’t waited up.

  Cassidy reappeared a moment later and handed her a big shirt to wear as a nightgown. Then she was gone and Melanie stood in the hall lit only by the few streetlights that could reach this high.

  She washed her face and changed in the guest bath. She was glad to see that Cassidy had given her an oversized woman’s t-shirt rather than one of Russell’s. As they’d once been lovers, that would have been too strange.

  Russell’s fluffy black cat was waiting outside the bathroom door to inspect her when she emerged. Without really thinking, she reached down and scratched it between the ears eliciting a happy buzz. She snatched her hand back and the animal eyed her strangely.

  “I’m not explaining to you why cats freak me out. Go away.” Her hand itched where that photo shoot cat of her childhood had slashed at her. Melanie slipped into the guest room, making sure that the cat, however disappointed, ended up on the other side of the door when she closed it.

  In the vague light, she spotted a chair and dropped her belongings onto it. She turned for the bed, a vague outline of white that was her sole concern. After tonight’s excesses, and this afternoon’s emotional upheaval courtesy of Mr. Joshua Har-penter, she could sleep for a week.

  That’s what they’d called him for the entire rest of the evening, the memory made her giggle a bit.

  A voice sounded out of the dark, “Please don’t throw a suitcase at me.”

  “Joshua,” Melanie’s voice was a breathy whisper.

  Josh reached to turn on the bedside light, but thought better of it. He’d woken in time to see Melanie’s unmistakable silhouette slipping in the door, but not soon enough to be sure she was clothed. He was instantly sober. Or at least sober enough to not assume he was hallucinating.

  “I shall go somewhere else. Back to the condo.” He could hear her gathering her things.

  He could also hear her exhaustion. “No. I’ll go. I can sleep on the couch or something.” He remembered in time that he wasn’t wearing anything under the covers, so he stayed in place.

  “Cassidy—” she said at the same moment he said, “Russell—”

  They both hesitated.

  “You don’t think it was some master plan?” she really did sound wiped out.

  Joshua reached around on the floor and found his underwear. He slipped them on under the covers as surreptitiously as he could while he responded.

  “I like Russell and Cassidy, but neither one is sufficiently sneaky. Perrin, maybe, except she’d have first made you a nightgown out of taffeta or something. Maria is definitely sneaky enough, but not Russell or Cassidy. So, I’ll just count myself impossibly fortunate and burn some candles of thanks to our Lady of Chance.” He started to get out of bed. “I’ll go.”

  “No. I—” she stopped, but it didn’t sound as if she was gathering her things either. They were both exhausted and both too considerate. Well, she was. His body’s reaction would prove him to be a complete and total cad if she turned on a light before he could find his jeans.

  At an impasse—he knew that she’d leave if he insisted on going and neither of them would sleep soon.

  “Melanie, how about this? You climb in here and I’ll behave. I will promise that you will remain completely safe. We’ll just sleep.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No. Completely and unbelievably stupid considering how much you’ve been occupying my thoughts today, but a promise has been made and a promise will be kept. C’mon.”

  She hesitated for several long moments, then he saw the faint outline moving toward him, followed by a soft oath as she stumbled on the clothes he’d dumped on the floor before crawling into bed.

  “Get in this side; it’s already warm.” He held up the covers and slid over to the far side as she took the covers.

  He lay there having no idea what he’d been thinking. The woman of his fantasies now lay possibly naked a mere foot away. Everything he’d promised himself to not think about—insane pedestal and all. Each motion of the mattress and the sheets as she settled sent bolts of electricity rocketing through him.

  And his fantasies were becoming an issue. The pin-up fantasy of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was fast being replaced by the flesh-and-blood one who had kissed him with such abandon on the ferry; the one who had kept him chastely entertained and intrigued through a long date to Bainbridge and back; the one he really wanted to get his hands on.

  He had to get up.

  Go to the couch.

  Sleep on the floor.

  Something.

  Before he could force himself to go, she rolled toward him. In moments her head rested on his shoulder. Her body, thankfully clothed, lay along his or he would have lost all control—promise or not. One of her legs, not the least little bit clothed, draped over one of his.

  “You’re a good man, Josshhua.” Now he heard the slur in her voice, not the least trace of French in her speech. Maybe not drunk, but he’d guess pretty loose or she wouldn’t have crawled in. That made her completely and totally out of bounds, whether or not she offered. No way was he taking advantage of her.

  She settled in, draped an arm across him, and fell asleep with a soft sigh.

  Now what was he supposed to do?

  Chapter 8

  Melanie woke the way she normally did; one moment asleep, the next wide awake.

  Wide awake and nestled in a man’s arms.

  Joshua. She didn’t need the soft morning’s light edging in around the closed curtains to know instantly it was him. If felt as if they’d always slept together.

  By the rise and fall of his chest, she knew he was asleep. One hand wrapped around her back, the other one resting on her hand which in turn rested on his chest. She had crawled in and curled up against him—what a total Jersey Shore hussy.

  Except she didn’t feel like one. Instead she felt like a woman who had her best night’s sleep in recent memory while nestled safely in her lover’s arms. Though he wasn’t her lover.

  She’d certainly never merely slept with a man before. Was something wrong with him? With her?

  His chest slowly rose and fell several times before she remembered what he’d said. She’d been drunk and half-passed out on her feet, and Joshua had promised she’d be safe. Those were not words that any man had ever offered to her. Especially no
t offered and meant. Actually, no one had ever offered her safety, including her own mother.

  And then he’d given her the warm side of the bed when she’d been chilled from the cool wind off the Sound and utterly exhausted.

  She’d not only been safe, but felt safe. Exactly as he’d promised.

  She considered making him break that promise right now. But they were guests in someone else’s apartment. In Russell’s! If someone had told her before last night that she’d ever sleep in Russell’s home again, she’d have laughed in their face. She absolutely wasn’t going to doing anything here, no matter how incredible Joshua felt.

  She managed to slip from his arms, gather her things, and make it to the guest bathroom with no one the wiser. Dressed, hair brushed, and face fresh scrubbed—she never wore makeup except on a shoot—ten minutes later she entered the kitchen.

  Cassidy was sitting at the kitchen counter with a big mug of coffee and her computer tablet, though she didn’t appear to be focusing well.

  “Hi.”

  “Uh, hi,” Cassidy looked up at her. “How on earth can you look so together when my head feels like mush?”

  “No hangover. Whatever wine you slipped me, it must have been the best quality.”

  “Actually,” Cassidy wrapped her hands around her coffee mug like gripping a lifeline. “I think that was Jo. She appears all demure, but in truth she’s very sneaky. You’ve got to watch that woman like a hawk. My mistake was letting Perrin switch me over to Cosmos. Help yourself to coffee.”

  “You really don’t look like you slept much.” Melanie took her time about making a cup of tea instead, moving softly in sympathy for Cassidy’s condition. Espresso from French roast was among the French habits she’d never learned to enjoy.

  “Russell greeted me very nicely—” Then Cassidy blushed hard and looked aside. “Sorry. Too much information. I know. I just—”