Her Dakota Summer

by Dahlia Dewinters

  “Good morning.” Dakota placed the container of flavored creamer next to her. “You might be needing this.” Was it her imagination or did he skim his fingers across the back of her hand?

  Malcolm took a great gulp of milk, leaving a white liquid streak above his lip.

  “Dakota made pancakes.”

  “I see.” She shook the cream-colored powder into her coffee cup and stirred it. “What are your plans today?”

  “I have a book to read,” Malcolm said, through a mouthful of food.

  “Me too,” Jackson chimed in.

  “You always copy me.” Malcolm nudged his little brother’s arm.

  “I do not.”

  Celeste opened her mouth to head the argument off.

  Dakota sat down next to her. “It’s not copying if you each have your own book to read,” he said in a mild voice. “When you’re done, scrape your dishes and put them in the sink, okay?” He focused on Celeste. “How are you this morning?”

  She turned her head and looked him in the eyes as her children trotted their plates to the sink. “I don’t know right now.” Their footfalls were loud on the stairs as they stomped up to their rooms.

  Dakota massaged the back of her neck and leaned close to kiss her at the base of her jaw. “You will soon.” He stood up, pushed in his chair and glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment, but I should be back no later than two.”

  Celeste looked up at him. “You don’t have to tell me your schedule. It is your day off.”

  “You have my number if you need me.”

  “I do.”

  * * * *

  After several games of Go Fish, Uno, and Chutes and Ladders, which Malcolm loved, but Jackson found boring, Celeste prepared lunch for herself and the boys and discussed their upcoming trip to see their father. Even as she chatted, listening to Jackson’s pontifications on Star Wars and answering Malcolm’s questions on sharks, she found herself constantly looking at the clock and was disappointed it was just noon when she sent the boys off for some Lego time in their rooms. Her office beckoned to her and she promised herself she would sit and work and not feed the urge to check her emails.

  True to her word, she sat in her chair, twirling a pencil between her fingers as she stared at the Wilson print. Often, when she was stuck for the exact word or phrase to offer an author on their work, she would gaze at the print and imagine the warm breezes, the feel of the cotton against her skin, the absence of email. Nothing like her life now.

  A quiet tap on the door caught her attention. “Mommy?” Malcolm hovered on the threshold, his chocolate brown eyes trained on her. In that instant she was struck by how much he resembled Charles. “Are you working?”

  “No, honey, come in.” She dropped the pencil to the blotter. “Where’s your brother?”

  “Sleeping.” Malcolm sat in one of the two easy chairs she had positioned in front of her desk and she took the other. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” she said, figuring it would be about sharks or Star Wars or in a twist, shark wars.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Celeste blinked, shocked out of her pat answer reverie. “Why would you ask me that?” Her mind ran over the possibilities.

  “Jerry’s mom and dad aren’t together anymore and Jerry says she has a boyfriend now. He comes to the house and buys them model sets and takes them out to dinner and stuff.”

  “That sounds good.” Celeste nodded her head. “It’s nice that Jerry’s mother has a nice friend.”

  “Maybe Dakota can be your boyfriend.”

  What was she going to say to that? “Dakota is very nice person,” she said, inwardly cringing. How many times am I going to use the word nice in this conversation? Well, at least it wasn’t a lie.

  “I like him. I didn’t at first, but I like him now. I wish he could stay longer.” He kicked at the chair and she was struck by how tall he had gotten. “He likes you.”

  Celeste forced her voice to sound nonchalant. “Oh, really? How do you know all this?”

  Her son grinned, as if he were about to divulge a deep secret. “Jackson asked him if he liked you and he said yes. He said you were very nice.”

  “Is that all?” She didn’t want to pry, but, yes, she did.

  “And he gave you a Batman bandage. Those are the best bandages in the box.”

  “Good. Next time I’ll buy just Batman bandages.”

  Malcolm nodded. “You should.” He hopped out of the chair.

  “You’re done with me, that’s it?”

  “Yep. I’m going to tell Jackson that you think Dakota is very nice too.”

  “We’re all very nice here. Super nice, in fact.”

  “Yes,” he said and left.

  Celeste wondered how the rest of the boys’ conversation with Dakota had gone.

  * * * *

  “So what’s your point?” Celeste divided her attention between the telephone and watching Malcolm, Jackson and two friends throw a football back and forth. Malcolm was the coach, showing the other children how to hold the ball and the proper way to throw, which she knew he had researched online before they’d come over.

  “The point is you didn’t tell me you were getting a male nanny,” Charles’s voice sounded as clear as if he were next door.

  Celeste frowned. “I didn’t think I had to.”

  “It’s my money, Celeste.”

  “Don’t you start.” Celeste turned away from the window and lowered her voice. “If you didn’t have this so-called emergency, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Charles could get really touchy about money, especially since she was the one who’d had to pay him alimony for the first year after their divorce. Nothing could strangle a man’s pride faster than knowing their wives made more money than they did.

  “So, you hired this young stud to boost your ego? I mean, I’m sure he’s running around in a swim suit, half-naked. I’m sure that gets your juices flowing.” He snorted. “Have you fucked him yet?”

  Celeste’s face got hot. “Charles, if you’re finished inquiring after the boys, then I daresay this phone call is over.”

  “Fine, Celeste, but if you are, remember, these young guys will get it wherever they can get it. Don’t think you’re so special. Besides, you’re way over the hill for anyone under thirty-five. Pick up the tickets from the travel agent at the end of the month.” He disconnected the call.

  Celeste pressed the ‘End’ button on the cordless handset and placed it onto her desk. She took another glance out of the window to ensure that everything was going okay with the children and sank down in her chair.

  Hate wasn’t in her vocabulary and she tried to be civil because he was her children’s father, but it was these kinds of conversations which made her dislike for Charles rise to the surface. A few deep breaths helped her fight back her tears of anger, but deep down inside, she wondered if he had a point. Am I just floating along on a pipe dream?

  Chapter Eleven

  Dakota sat in the dimly-lit kitchen, nursing a half-empty bottle of beer. Celeste had been closed in her office since he and the boys had returned from the playground. Foregoing dinner, she’d poked her head out to say good night and had gone right back to the computer. He glanced at the glowing dial of his watch. Eleven-thirty. She usually stopped working between now and midnight. Then she would shut everything down, peek at the boys and do her nightly security tour, checking the locks on the doors and windows that he’d already inspected. Finally, she would wander into the kitchen for a late-night snack.

  The office door opened with a slight whine of the hinges. He sensed rather than saw her pass the kitchen on her way upstairs. The second time she passed, her check on the sleeping children complete, he wanted to call to her, then decided it would be better to let her finish her evening ritual. He got up from the table and moved into the dark hallway, planning to meet her by the door to his suite.

  A tiny sneeze caught him by surprise and he started. He’d forgo
tten how quick she was. She’d made her way back from the garage door before he was halfway down the hall.

  “Now who should be wearing a bell?” he teased her in a low voice.

  Celeste made a startled sound of her own. “Looks like we scared each other. What are you doing prowling around past your bedtime?” She matched his light tone and stepped closer to him.

  Dakota wound his arms around her waist. “I missed you,” he murmured into her neck and kissed the pulse there. “I don’t like being away from you.” He slipped both hands around her waist, under her T-shirt and kissed her, nudging her lips open with his tongue, tasting her. The whole day had passed like cold molasses for him, each hour dripping by with an agonizing slowness.

  She was warm and soft and he kissed her once more, nudging her against the white-painted surface of the wall. The fragrance of her warm skin, a cross between some faraway floral and a richer, fruity scent made his blood flow faster and his cock stiffen in his jeans. Her body fit perfectly against his and she draped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer, pressing her soft breasts to his chest.

  He whispered to her, words that meant both nothing and everything. Settling both hands on her waist, he brushed the satin skin of her belly with his thumbs, causing her to shiver. Encouraged, he moved his hands up her body, reaching the soft curve of her breasts. What was it about her that had attracted him from the first meeting? He drew a lazy circle over the very tip of her breast, repeating the movement on both sides until she was grinding herself against him, smothering her cries against his mouth.

  “You’re torturing me,” she said and undid the waistband of his jeans, slipped her hand inside and stroked his cock, running her fingers over the tight skin until he thought he would explode. Her demanding kisses pushed his desire for her even higher.

  “You don’t know what torture is.” He lifted her skirt then hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down and off, then slipped his hand between her thighs. Celeste moaned, spurring him on as he stroked her clit, feeling her twist and writhe beneath his touch.

  He took the condom out of his pocket, ripped it open and rolled it on, too eager to think of anything but sliding inside her.

  “Wait.” Celeste put her hands against his chest. “Here? In the hallway?”

  “Why not here?” He pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. “Perfectly acceptable location.” He lifted her legs and thrust inside her with one smooth movement, her gasp a puff of air against his cheek.

  Using the wall as leverage, he drove into her, his senses overwhelmed by her sweet presence.

  She gave a long moan and whispered, “I love the way you fuck me,” which drove him even crazier than he already felt.

  Later, they sat on the deck, chatting quietly as the lightning bugs flashed their love signals across the backyard. Celeste was in silhouette, the glow of the citronella torches playing across her face.

  “This is a very awkward situation.”

  “Not so much, Celeste.” He smoothed a hand over her thigh. He couldn’t get enough of touching her or smelling her. “I only have a little while left. This can work.”

  “But the boys… Oh God.” She dropped her head into her hands. “They’ll be so confused. “

  Dakota leaned back in his chair. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a rift between Celeste and her children. He knew how vulnerable kids were to the company that came in and out of the house.

  “I know you hesitate because I’m young, younger than you,” he began. If he wanted to hold on to Celeste, and he did, he had to convince her of his seriousness. “But this isn’t a game to me.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb along its soft contours. “I wouldn’t risk my job if I didn’t take this seriously.”

  “But you’re much younger than I am,” Celeste murmured. She squeezed his hand. “You have so much ahead of you. I’m playing a fool’s game.”

  He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ve got you ahead of me, if you’ll allow it.” He raised his shoulders in a brief shrug. “I have to put myself in your hands.”

  “Dakota.” Celeste squeezed his hand again, sending a thrill through his whole body.

  “Cel.” He drew her close. “We can do this.”

  “Okay,” she whispered and laid her head on his shoulder.

  Chapter Twelve

  The demand for good editors for the ever-expanding publishing phase of electronic books was increasing and Celeste was in the middle of the storm. Blushing Passion Press—the company she primarily free-lanced for—was one of the premier publishers of romance ebooks and the virtual stack of manuscripts to be edited and proofread, while welcomed, seemed never ending.

  Celeste sat down at her desk to work. Dakota had told her the agenda for today, which included a visit to some Lego demonstration at Raritan Valley College, the park and the drive-thru at Sonic. A quick press of a button woke her desktop up from its after-dark slumber and she rubbed her temples in preparation for giving her author some helpful comments in their document.

  The tinkling tune of her cell phone gave her some relief. Hoping it was Dakota with a check-in, she picked it up and glanced at the screen. It was her boss, Paris.

  “Morning, Celly,” Paris’s words tumbled out one after the other. Sharp-tongued and to the point, she never minced words, but was quicker to praise than to criticize. “I’ve got good news for you.”

  There was a pause and Celeste heard people talking in the background. “Morning, Paris. How are you? What’s the news?”

  “Doing well, sweetie. Listen, we got a new editor. He’s fantastic and will halve your workload.”

  Celeste smiled and spun in her chair to look out the back window. “Paris, you’ve brought me the best news of the day so far. When does he start?”

  “If you go through your files as soon as possible and send him those you haven’t opened, he can get to it today. But if you need more time…”

  “No, I can get them out within the hour.” She loved her job and most of the genres she edited, but the shape-shifting romances were her least favorite. Since she’d been given the opportunity to lighten her workload by choosing which manuscripts to surrender, she knew instantly that she would mix them in with some more traditional romances, but the shape-shifting ones would be the first to go. Excitement began to build as she realized how much more time she’d have to spend with her boys—and Dakota.

  “Cool, baby. Send ‘em to me and I’ll get them out to him. I’ll send an email of formal introduction a little later, but I want to get him in the loop as soon as possible.”

  Celeste clicked her mouse, navigating to the folder that held all the manuscripts. “Working on it right now. Thanks Paris, I appreciate this.”

  “You’re a good editor, Celeste. Didn’t want to lose you by wearing you out. Getting you some help was my first priority.” She snapped back into a more business-like tone. “Besides,” she continued, “we needed a little testosterone around here. And I figured you’d want to spend more time with your boys. I know the load has been a little heavy.”

  “I have a nanny, so it works out.”

  Paris’s voice held a note of surprise, “Ooo, la, la. Very fancy, sweetie. Is it one of those hot male nannies with a great body, who loves to swim in a Speedo?”

  Celeste giggled. “That’s about right, except for the Speedo part.”

  There was a pause at the end of the line. Paris had been shocked into speechlessness. “You’re pulling my leg, Celly.”

  “Would I do that to you?” Celeste chuckled.

  “Well, well. I say you should be glad to be rid of half the work. Gives you more time to supervise. You have to keep an eye on your children’s caretakers. That’s for sure. Use your time wisely.”

  “You’re too much, Paris. Thanks for the reprieve, though. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do my best work, with the number of books we had to do.”

  “You always do your best work, Celly. Enjoy the rest of t
he summer.” Paris disconnected.

  Celeste rocked back in her chair, unable to wipe the satisfied smile off her face. Her free time had just multiplied by two.

  * * * *

  Dinner was a noisy affair with Malcolm and Jackson vying to tell her all about the wonders of the Lego demonstration and the new additions to their local park. The weather had been too cool and overcast to swim, so the afternoon had ended with a loud game of Monopoly and some before dinner ice-cream.

  When Celeste told the table her good news, Jackson’s face fell. “Does that mean that Dakota has to leave?”

  Celeste shot a quick glance at her nanny, who had conveniently looked down to scoop food into his mouth. “No, that’s not what it means. Dakota is going to stay here with you. I’m just going to have more free time, that’s all.”

  “Good,” Jackson pronounced, grabbing a steamed broccoli spear and gnawing on it, “Because we’re not finished having fun yet.”

  Malcolm nodded, agreeing with his younger brother. “Yeah, we ain’t finished having fun.”

  “Aren’t.” She and Dakota spoke at the same time and she glanced back at him again. This time their gazes met. A little jolt of emotion shot through Celeste and she couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s supposed to be ‘we aren’t finished having fun’.”

  Dakota returned her smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s about right,” he said. “Lots of fun still to be had.”

  Malcolm looked from one to the other. “You guys are weird.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “There’s a state fair-type thing tonight if you want to take the boys.”