Free to Dream

by Tracey Jerald

  No. I’m absolutely not okay. “Yes,” I lie convincingly. I start to move out of his arms, but he lightly tightens them.

  My panic level increases.

  “Since you led us off Main Street, I’m not certain where to go from here?” he says with a smile.

  I blink up at him.

  He continues to smile down at me.

  I look around at where I am and let out a puff of air. “Oh, I walked through the shortcut. This way.” I move out of his arms and pick up my pace, when I’m slowed almost to a stop.

  My hand is in his. How did I not feel this?

  My eyes snap up to meet his, even as they’re narrowing.

  “This way, I won’t lose you if you walk too fast,” Caleb explains smoothly. “Or you could slow down and walk to The Coffee Shop with me.”

  “The town is not grotesquely large, Caleb. Even if we were separated for a moment, we would still be able to find one another there,” I patiently explain, as if I’m talking to a two-year-old. All the while, trying to pull my hand from his with no success.

  “It’s not such a hardship for me to escort a beautiful woman to have a cup of coffee when I owe her an apology,” he retorts. “If you stop trying to get loose, I’ll make you a deal.”

  I pause, my panic slightly receding. No one had offered me a deal when I’d been restrained before. My hand stills in his.

  “If you let me escort you to The Coffee Shop, buy you a cup of whatever you normally drink, and we can talk for a few minutes, I’ll let your hand go. I will, however, likely place my hand on the small of your back where your jacket meets your jeans to help you balance in those shoes, guide you there, and overall, be a gentleman.” He pauses, searching my face. “Are we agreed?”

  “Are we agreed,” I parrot back, buying some time while processing all he said.

  “Yes.” Caleb stands tall, rugged, masculine.

  The part of me that still fears the past wants to run away with my hands in my hair, screaming. The other part of me wants to leave my past behind, and curl into him like a purring cat and enjoy it.

  I have to decide.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  He smiles and squeezes my hand before dropping it and gesturing for me to walk in front of him.

  Instinctively, my pace slows. I feel him come up along my right side, matching his steps to mine.

  And there it is.

  His hand lands on the small of my back.

  In that one gesture, I feel the warmth of his body heat mine, which has been cold for so long. I feel the courtly manners he was brought up with being extended to me, of all people.

  And if I was completely honest, the little girl who lives inside me cries, looking at him for the first time without tears.

  As we reach The Coffee Shop, he reaches forward with his right arm to hold open the door. As I walk past him into the store, ignoring the stares I’m receiving, I smile openly up at him before sliding into an open booth in the back.

  I’m oblivious to the effect it has on him.

  After we place our orders with a gleeful Ava, Matt watches us from behind the counter.

  Leaning back in his seat, Caleb scrutinizes me closely before throwing out something that should surprise me, but doesn’t. “I don’t want to sign the NDA.”

  “Guess you’ll never need to speak with me,” I sass back.

  But he continues, as if I hadn’t just taken another swipe at him. “I want you to trust me enough to give me your schedule, to let me know when you’re available.”

  Is he crazy? Probably so. He likely has so many women dropping to their knees to blow him, his brain has been sucked out through his dick.

  I laugh at his arrogance until I’m in hysterics.

  Wiping my eyes, I ask, “Are you crazy?”

  Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Regardless of what I think of him right now, he is still technically a client.

  Caleb looks at me like he’s accomplished something amazing, grinning like a fool. A hot fool.

  With that smile, the last vestige of my control is destroyed. The professional mask I pride myself on wearing is shredded. I feel like the brunt of a bad joke everyone’s playing on me and they expect me to get over. For once, I forget who I am and what my responsibilities are. For once, I’m just a woman. A woman whose hurt isn’t fading, isn’t being pushed aside. A woman who didn’t do anything wrong to get played. I dare him to step up and show me who he really is on the war that has been waging in my head.

  Fuck it.

  “Maybe too much whisky last night? Someone slip something extra into the cigars at the Havana Room? Maybe someone was a little too enthusiastic doing the reverse cowgirl, broke your dick, and the pain meds have kicked you into the realm of insane? Should you be driving to Collyer under those circumstances? Our police force can be pretty stringent on DUI.” I lean forward. “If none of those things happened, I’d love to know what explanation you have for the delusion you’re living under right now to think I’d hand over the keys to my private life to you.”

  He wipes his hand across his sculptured mouth. When he takes it away, his mouth is set in a serious line.

  “No drinking last night. Haven’t been to the Havana Room in quite some time. As for the crazy hot sex, well, we can get into those details now, if you’d like. I was trying to keep this somewhat circumspect.” I can’t see his eyes through the lowered dark lashes. My pulse spikes when he raises them to look directly at me. “For now.”

  Suddenly, I’m mortified with myself. The line of business ethics and professionalism is gone. And this time, I was the one to obliterate the line. Not only did I just talk to Caleb Lockwood like I would my family, I basically insinuated to his face he was nothing more than a pretty face with nothing better to do than get tore up and laid. What the hell just happened with my brain?

  I wonder, fleetingly, if I can excuse myself, go to the restroom and ask Matt if I can claim a temporary psychotic break to save my reputation. Picking at the threads of my jacket nervously, I take a deep breath and prepare to have my unprofessional behavior thrown back at me.

  Sitting up straighter, I ask “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Lockwood?” I flick up the fingers of my hand to pause him as he opens his mouth to speak. “Business related.”

  “No. Nothing for now. I wanted to apologize.”

  We size each other up. I begin to tap my foot. He crosses his arms. I click my nails on the table. His fingers tap on his bicep. “Well,” I finally demand.

  “Well, what?” the singularly obtuse man in front of me repeats.

  “Where is the apology?” I grind out.

  “I brought flowers,” he says cheekily.

  Ah, the glorious purple blooms waiting for me back on my desk. “Saying it with flowers isn’t going to cut it, Lockwood. You have no idea what—” I catch myself in time before I verbally vomit my family’s business all over this man.

  It’s suddenly so quiet between us, it’s like someone pressed the mute button on our conversation. All the humor has left his eyes. “Tell me.”

  “No.” I sound like a petulant three-year-old, but I don’t care.

  “You will.” He’s back to sounding like an arrogant ass. I can deal with that. I can handle that.

  I lean back in the booth and stare out the window of The Coffee Shop. Turning back to him, he gives me a quizzical look. “Just checking to see if Hell froze over since we walked in. I’d say no. It’s not that cold out.”

  A bark of reluctant laughter leaves his lips. “God, that mouth.”

  Caleb leans forward, elbows resting on the table. “Somehow, I didn’t get the impression you were a woman where a simple, ‘I’m sorry’ would work. I’ve been thinking of you, reading up on you.”

  There’s no way I’m about to allow that one to pass. I’m about to snark out some obnoxious comment when he holds up his hand. “You make men work for it. The flowers are just the beginning. I’m just starting to make my case. I�
��d get on my knees and beg, but I’m saving that for special occasions.”

  His eyes collide with mine. Stupid, stupid move, Cass. Despite his innuendo-laced words, part of me expected his eyes to reflect his apology.

  Sweet baby Jesus, that is so not what I see.

  There’s heat. I feel the blaze reach out, starting to thaw the coldest parts of me. I’m going to incinerate if I keep looking at him. I might have been able to have held out against that, but it’s the other things revealed there that start to suck me in.

  Admiration.

  Estimation.

  Appreciation.

  “What do you want from me?” I whisper, suddenly aware of the closed off environment of our booth. The relative privacy within a very public space. The thickening tension between us. Air so filled with want I could choke on it.

  He gives me a slow curve of his mouth.

  “To start with, the right to use your phone number, Cassidy, and not just because of this wedding.” His voice is quiet, almost a growl. He never loses eye contact with me. “Despite what Ry and Jared put in that contract, I’m not your damn client. They are. I’m only on there in the event of…problems they can’t handle without some intervention.”

  My eyes briefly flit to the left as I think back to my conversation with Jason. Caleb notices and reads my face immediately. “You’ve talked with Jason, then.”

  I nod.

  He sighs, and suddenly there’s something deeper in his eyes. All traces of flirtation are replaced with regret. True regret. “I wasn’t planning on taking the misunderstanding that far, Cassidy. To be honest, when you assumed I was the groom…” He pauses, the silence flowing between us.

  “One of three,” I correct him, breaking the silence. For some reason, I’m trying to make this easier, to ease his burden. To make him smile.

  “One of three.” His lips quirk before he lifts his mug to them. “I thought I would let it go for a second and explain. Then you started cussing at your brother. Then the next thing I knew, you snapped into this professional and we had most of the wedding planned in one hour. I was caught between being impressed and in shock. I never had a chance to correct you before Ryan and Jared showed up.”

  I notice we’ve both moved, unconsciously, leaning toward each other in the booth.

  I frankly don’t know what to think. My head is spinning.

  I gnaw on my lower lip. Caleb has no idea the storm he set off in the Freeman family with that little stunt. I nod slowly, and my concession seems to release him. Leaning back, he relaxes into his seat as I remain thoughtful, unable to break our détente to leave.

  The silence starts to stretch out uncomfortably when Caleb admits wryly, “If it helps any, I think that little stunt might have saved my brother’s relationship with his best friend.”

  With Jared? Had something else happened?

  “What do you mean?” I ask cautiously. I hadn’t felt any discord between the grooms.

  “I mean, Ryan ripped into me so hard for being a dumb shit, I think I’m still bleeding from the shots he took.” Caleb feigns being affronted. “As Ry tends to think that about me quite a bit, it was really Jared agreeing with him that drove home the point that I was a shit the first time I met with you.”

  I knew I liked this particular set of grooms for more than their taste and decisiveness.

  “Oh?” I smirk, feeling more in control again.

  Caleb appears thoughtful, choosing his next words carefully. “After the yelling died down that night, Ry called Jason and apologized for his big brother being a douchebag. He used me to open the door for a much more difficult conversation that needed to happen years ago between him and Jason.”

  My lips part as I let out a little puff of air.

  Caleb chuckles softly. “I told him I could apologize for my own poor behavior, but Ry used it as an opportunity to apologize to Jason and Phil. Things didn’t end well with them despite their initial business discussions, and Ry hadn’t figured out a way to make it right.”

  Caleb’s gaze drifts out the window. “Jason’s a good man. A terrific one, in fact. Ry was so confused back then and didn’t realize what he was feeling, or what Jason felt, until he met Jared. Hell, when I spoke with Jason yesterday—”

  “You spoke with Jason?”

  “Yes. He and your brother were generous enough to meet me in the city for lunch. I told Jason he could pretty much ask me for my life and I would give it to him. He took care of Ry while I was overseas in the Army.”

  His jaw tics as I watch him become lost in his memories. I don’t interrupt. I give him a moment with his thoughts while I think back to what Jason told me last Monday evening.

  “I’m glad they talked.” My words bring Caleb back to the here and now. His fathomless dark eyes bore into mine. Mine don’t break away. I’m captured, pulled under, and drowning.

  “Have dinner with me,” he says abruptly. Before I can answer, he blurts, “No, I take that back.”

  I feel the eruption of righteous indignation coming. Gee, that was quick. My brows, which had been rising, lower, but my eyes narrow at the man across the table. He merely grins.

  “We’ll have dinner, and afterward, I want you to join Ry, Jared, and I at a wedding.”

  I laugh outright. Because…a wedding?

  “Seriously? You want to take a wedding planner to someone else’s wedding?” I raise my cappuccino to my lips. Caleb’s eyes dance over the cup.

  “It’s not really the wedding as much as it is the party. The person who got married is someone Ry went to school with and our family knows very well. He used to date her.” Caleb winks and I shake my head. The irony is not lost on me. “It’s a destination wedding, and the bride and groom are throwing a country party at the Molly Darcy’s in Danbury. They rented the place out for the night, and we’re doing dinner before that.”

  “Country night in an Irish bar?”

  “Groom’s from the South and she’s Irish. They thought it was funny.”

  Makes about as much sense as this conversation. “Sounds like you guys will have a good time,” I remark casually.

  He leans forward and grabs my hand before I can react. I don’t even have time to shift, to move from my deceptively relaxed position. God, his touch is like a bolt of lightning through my system. My nipples stand at attention again, just from touching my hand.

  Have I ever felt anything like this around a man? Ever?

  But it’s his words that leave me breathless.

  “How am I supposed to apologize properly if I can’t get you away from work to do so? I can’t apologize appropriately in your office or in a coffee shop.”

  Holy. Fucking. Shit. Thoughts fly through my over-tired brain. This man looks like he wants to devour me like I’m quite possibly a steak, or maybe the whisky I accused him of drinking last night. His long fingers caress the inside of my wrist. My nipples are so tight, they ache. I feel the nagging throbbing between my legs that I’ve only read about. What is Caleb Lockwood doing to me?

  “Cassidy?”

  “Yes.” Wait. What? Did I just agree to go to a post-wedding party of all things with Caleb Lockwood?

  “Good. I’ll pick you up on Friday at six. Ry and Jared want to eat at Rosy Tomorrows. They have great burgers. Getting a seat in there after seven is a bitch.”

  I’m floundering. Did I just agree to a date with Caleb Lockwood?

  I must be out of my mind.

  I swirl the dredges of my coffee with suspicion.

  “What is it? Is there something wrong with your coffee?” Caleb asks, immediately concerned.

  “No, it’s not that. I’m just wondering if there are drugs in there that made me say yes?” I admit with one-hundred percent honesty.

  He barks out a laugh.

  “Dislike me that much?” His voice is filled with humor at my candor, but I’m still undecided on what it is I’m feeling.

  “No. I’ve never dated a client before.” I’ll give him that much for now.<
br />
  He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of my knuckles. “And I told you, I’m not your client.”

  While I’m still reeling from the slick and very sweet maneuver, Caleb starts asking me personal questions. “Do you like to read?”

  Without hesitating, I answer, “Absolutely.”

  “What kind of books?”

  I open my mouth to tell him, but instead say, “You first.”

  “Nope, I asked first.”

  “At the same time,” I offer.

  “Deal.”

  I call out to Ava. “Hey, Ava! Can we get a pen and two pieces of paper?”

  As she’s swinging through with a tray of food, a pen and pad land on our table. I rip off two pieces of paper.

  “Can you answer more than one?” I needle him playfully.

  He gives me an extraordinarily patronizing scoff before picking up his own pen and quickly scribbling off a few lines.

  I quickly write my answer, fold the paper in half, and half again. Caleb has done the same, holding it between two fingers.

  “Deal time,” he declares with a wink.

  My heart flutters and my cheeks warm. “I’ll hear the terms first.”

  Two glasses of water appear at our elbows while we were talking. I grab one and start sipping.

  “One. Whatever’s in these is for us to know only. It doesn’t get shared with any family or friends.” The witty charmer seems to have disappeared. Caleb’s face is all solemn and pensive. It touches something in me.

  “Deal.”

  “Two. You agree to go to the party with me.” At my hesitance, which he can’t begin to understand, he cajoles softly, “You’ll have fun, Cassidy. I promise. And if you don’t, we can always leave.” His eyes bore into mine, willing the answer he wants.

  Without giving my fears a voice, I say softly, “Yes.”

  The smile that breaks out across his face pushes back the demons for a while longer.

  “Now, hand it over, Lockwood. I want to know if your reading level extends to more than Captain Underpants,” I taunt.

  “I’ve also read Dog Man as well, Cassidy. Let’s not limit me to a particular series,” he replies mildly as he hands over his list.