Dream Boy

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Surrounded by all these elegant, touristy restaurants, she chooses the shabby deli with the crooked sign. We’ve come a long way since that burrito shack in Vegas. I can’t help but smile. “Sure. Why not?”

  Pulling up to the curb, I put the car in park. Sophia digs around in her purse for some lipstick and before she’s finished swiping it on, I'm at her door, holding it open. She places her hand in mine to exit and there's really no way to describe how good that makes me feel. Caring for her and River is my purpose now and it's satisfying on the deepest level.

  With her arm looped through mine, I make a big deal of looking both ways before we cross the narrow roadway. I even hold up my hand like a stop sign, commanding an oncoming minivan to slow down.

  She tilts her head back and roars. "You're so silly."

  Once we're on the sidewalk, I kiss her cheek. "I take my job of protecting you very seriously, Sophia. Nothing happens to you or River. Not on my watch." I believe deeply that a man isn’t a man unless he can protect his family.

  She stops walking and takes my face between her hands. "I can live with that." She slides her lips over mine as people mill around us. "It feels good to be taken care of." There’s a tremor in her voice when she says it.

  The asshole she was with before me didn’t treat her the way she deserved. That mistreatment made her build up all kinds of defense mechanisms, thinking she had to do it all herself, that she couldn’t rely on anyone else for help. Well, you know what—she’s mine now and I have her back. No matter what.

  "Get used to it, Daisy. I’m the kind of man who goes all in to protect what’s mine. There's no getting rid of me now." I give her butt a firm tap. She yelps, clinging to the front of my T-shirt, and I grin slyly. "Come. Let's go feed you."

  I drag her into the dingy sandwich shop and it's bustling. Each of the weathered plastic chairs is taken and each table is littered with soda cups and potato chips and mouth-watering sandwiches.

  We're at the back of the line and from where I’m standing, I can’t even get a glimpse of the menu or of the deli-style food display on the other side of the cash register. I'm gradually losing hope that we'll get to eat sometime before the turn of the century.

  At the far end of the counter, past the line of workers busily taking the orders and assembling the sandwiches is an angry little blonde in her twenties. She wears an almost trance-like look on her face as she whacks at the counter with a meat hammer and food particles fly up all around.

  Looking alarmed, Sophia turns to me and whispers into my chest. "What the hell is she doing?"

  "I think she's murdering our food." I murmur out the side of my mouth. “They’re taking fresh produce to a whole new level in here.”

  Sophia snorts through her nose. "Do you think we should leave?"

  "Not a chance.” I puff up my chest. “You've got me here to protect you if shit goes down."

  She nods. "Right."

  The tall, quirky girl standing in line in front of us leans over her shoulder and whispers. "That's Iris. She's one of the owners. She's going through a divorce and her fave emotional outlet these days is hammering olives and ginger and garlic into submission."

  Sophia's face softens with sympathy as she watches the blonde. "Oh...we all deal with our baggage in different ways, huh?"

  "I guess.” The stranger nods. “And the food seems to taste better since she started going all hammer-crazy on it. But maybe that’s just me." She pauses and eyes us curiously. "Where are you folks from?"

  "Copper Heights," I supply proudly and flash Sophia a wink. Yup, Copper Heights is my home now. I might as well claim it.

  My girl stretches a hand out. "I'm Sophia." I watch as the women shake hands.

  "Archie,” I tell her. With a lopsided grin, I shake her hand, too.

  “I’m Penny. I'm a local girl. Born and raised in this god-forsaken town." She says theatrically with a woeful sigh.

  Sophia laughs. "It's beautiful here. The waterfront. The shops. The funky European vibe. I wouldn’t mind being from around here.”

  Penny waves a hand through the air. "It’s pretty cool until the tourists invade every summer. And then you can’t even get a sandwich around here without losing two years off of your life expectancy." She laughs but it sounds kind of sad. "It's not like I'm going anywhere, so I should stop complaining."

  I wrap my arms around Sophia's middle and pull her into my chest. The top of her perky ass nestles right against my crotch. Where it belongs. "Why's that?" I ask Penny as the line inches forward.

  Her face grows red with embarrassment. She flinches. "Walker Kingston has had my heart in a chokehold since kindergarten. I'm the ultimate cliche. The girl secretly pining away over her best friend."

  Sophia's fingers tighten around my forearm. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

  Penny shakes her head dismissively, playing it off as if it’s no big deal. "Ack! I'm the one who should be apologizing. You guys don't even know me and here I am spilling my guts." She heaves a hell of a sigh as she steps up to the counter to order. "Welcome to Crescent Harbor—land of sailboats, charming architecture and local melodrama." She chuckles sarcastically. "Who knows...maybe someday someone'll write a book about it.”

  28

  Sophia

  My stomach is so full from that delicious meatball sub. I undo the top button of my shorts to keep from exploding.

  Thankfully, the gauzy fabric of my shirt is long enough to cover my open fly as Archie and I walk hand in hand through the narrow streets of Crescent Harbor.

  I feel carefree, content with myself. Not worried that anyone might notice my bulging stomach or my unzipped pants and report back to my mother’s smack-talking friends.

  I smile at no one in particular. Who knew this much happiness and this much cellulite could co-exist in the same person.

  Anyway, it’s beautiful here. The sprawling waterfront, the Victorian architecture and the tiny shops that are all calling my name as Archie and I stroll hand in hand down the romantic, cobblestone streets.

  I resist the urge to drag him into every shop we pass because I know that would just drive him crazy. But as we approach a stained-glass window with beaded chandelier earrings on display, I can’t help myself.

  Squeezing his fingers, I tug him inside with me and I begin to explore. His gaze travels around, pretending to take interest in the odd nick nacks on the shelves in the cozy space. A gorgeous bohemian bracelet with multicolor beads catches my eye as I edge around the other customers in the cluttered aisles. I lift the jewel off of the display rack and slide it onto my wrist just to admire its quirky beauty.

  “That looks gorgeous on you.” The rosy-cheeked woman at the far end of the counter beams at me as she approaches. The smile on her face isn’t fooling me. Those eyes tell me she’s coming to close the sale.

  Quickly, I slip the piece of jewelry off my wrist and try to put it back in its place. “Oh, sorry. Just looking today.”

  Archie comes up over my shoulder, his eyes examining the bracelet. “It is beautiful, babe.” He takes it from my fingers and slips it back onto my wrist. “Look at it.”

  “It’s breathtaking,” the shop owner says. “It brings out the gold in your eyes.”

  I have gold in my eyes? Well, apparently this bracelet has super powers, too. Now, I’m starting to think I have to have it. I move in front of the mirror and hold up my wrist.

  She prods Archie. “Don’t you see how it makes her eyes glimmer?”

  “I definitely see that.” His gaze is transfixed to me. He watches me in awe.

  Common sense snaps back in. I don’t need the damn bracelet. I try to remove it again. “It’s very beautiful but I’ll pass on it today.”

  Back in the day, I wouldn’t hesitate to swipe Josh’s credit card for this but I’ve done a lot of growing up since then. Yes, I like the bracelet but I don’t need it. My little family isn’t starving but we aren’t swimming in money, either. I don’t mind turning down a little unnecessary indulgence li
ke this.

  But Archie’s hand is digging into his pocket and he’s pulling out his wallet.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I say as he stretches his credit card across the counter to the seller.

  The lady is all too eager to swipe the piece of plastic. She does it before I can convince my man not to make the purchase.

  As we wait for the slow dial-up connection, Archie wraps his arms around me and leans his chin on my shoulder. “You deserve this, babe. And buying it for you makes me happy. So, just let me do it.”

  When he says that, the women in line behind us sigh with jealousy and I beam just a little at how lucky I am to have this man. He peppers kisses up and down my cheek as the store clerk fiddles with the card processing machine.

  The loud, beeping sound of doom echoes in the shop and it feels like all eyes land on us.

  The cashier’s expression shifts completely. Her friendly demeanor evaporates. She gives Archie a condescending look over the frame of her glasses. “It was declined.”

  He clears his throat and tugs his collar away from his throat. “You mind trying again?”

  The woman swipes the card over the reader again and that sound of rejection echoes out once more.

  “M-maybe it’s broken,” I supply, my heart breaking for Archie as he reaches across the counter and grabs the outstretched card.

  “Yeah, maybe.” He slides the card back into his wallet and drops his gaze to the floor. “Maybe we’ll come back for it tomorrow.”

  Without waiting for me, he spins on his heel and moves through the crowd, heading for the door.

  When we reach the sidewalk, I can see the mortification burning in his cheeks. He feels like less than a man because he wasn’t able to buy me something silly that caught my eye in a random store.

  I don’t want him to feel bad. That one little moment didn’t change the way I feel about him. I need him to know that.

  But as we walk down the road in the direction of the parked car and I try to reach for his hand, he shoves his fingers into his pocket instead.

  29

  Sophia

  We could have spent the night in Crescent Harbor. Penny had even recommended a nice, cozy inn where we could have stayed. Apparently, the Kingston Family Bed & Breakfast has clean rooms with beautiful views of the harbor, friendly staff and caramelized bacon is on the menu.

  Yes, she had me at caramelized bacon.

  I would have gladly put the expense on my credit card just so Archie and I could enjoy a real getaway and truly connect as a couple without the pressure of being parents for the night. But after the incident at the jewelry store, his mood was ruined. I could see on his face that he felt completely emasculated because he couldn’t buy me that stupid bracelet. I wish we’d never set foot in that shop.

  I don’t care about the things he can’t afford to buy. We’re gonna struggle through this life together because when he’s by my side, that’s when I’m at my best. And I really want to help bring out the best in him, too. If only he’d let me.

  But Archibald Jones has this whole laundry list of items that must be ticked off in order for a man to really be a man. He holds himself to an impossibly high standard. All he wants is to be better than his father is. I hate seeing him beat himself up just because he fell short on one count.

  Can’t he see how much I love him just the way he is? This relationship—this family—is a big adjustment for all of us. I got used to doing everything on my own for two years. River has only ever had me as a parent figure. Archie was used to wandering around with no commitment. We all need some time to adjust to this new reality. I just wish Archie would cut himself some slack.

  The ride back home is quiet. We barely exchange a word. When we pull up in the driveway, Archie holds the passenger side door open for me and follows me into the house.

  I need a minute by myself. Some time to get myself together. I need to remind myself that he’s just having a rough night and that tomorrow, everything will be better.

  After a quick shower, I tie my wet hair in a bun high on my head and slip into a long T-shirt. I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders and head for the bedroom.

  When I swing the door open, the sight that greets me nearly brings me to my knees.

  And I don’t know exactly what it is that steals my breath —the utter humiliation in his eyes or the fact that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers, holding his detached leg in his hand.

  He’s never let me see him this way. I stand frozen in the doorway and stare at him. He drops the prosthetic to the floor with a thud. Elbows on his knees, he buries his face in his palms. “This is what you’re getting, Sophia. A broken man. That’s all fucking I am.”

  With a knot in my throat, I move slowly across the room. I fall to my knees in front of him. My heart has never pounded this hard.

  When he looks down at me, his eyes are red. "I should have never pulled you into this. You deserve so much better than me...and if I weren't so damn selfish, I'd let you go, I'd move out of the way so you could be with a better man, a whole man. But I just want you so much."

  “You didn’t pull me into anything,” I say hoarsely. “I want to be with you. You have me. No matter what. I’m with you. I’m here. I love you.”

  When I touch my fingers to his chest, he flinches, almost like he might push me away. I won't give up on him so easily, not when he means this much to me.

  I press kisses to his torso. I drag my touch down the plains of his chest. My fingers slip into his waistband and he doesn’t try to stop me when I move his boxers down to the floor.

  My mouth travels lower on his hot skin. Goosebumps rise up all over his body. My fingers clench on his hips.

  “Sophia, you don't have to do this." His voice is raspy, all spiky edges and raw emotion.

  I halt my kisses just long enough to ask, "But do you want me to?"

  He grips the mattress beside him and squeezes his eyes shut. "Sophia, please. I don't need..." He hates being this vulnerable but right now, he's putty in my hands.

  Locking my fingers around his throbbing cock, I stroke him tenderly, ignoring the burn of tears in my eyes. When he feels my lips trailing down his left thigh, brushing across his marred flesh, his body goes as stiff as stone.

  He grits out between his teeth. “Your pity blow-jobs won't get us anywhere."

  My chest nearly splits apart when he says that. He doesn't get it at all. “This isn’t pity, Archie. This is love.”

  “Please, Sophia…” His jaw is tense as he tries to fight the emotions. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes.

  I won't let him run. He needs to know that we're in this together. “I love you, Archie. Every bit of you. When I look at you, I don’t see anything missing. When I look at you, I see the man who makes me whole. And I want you just the way you are. I need you just the way you are.”

  When my lips wrap around his crown, he releases a strangled noise of pleasure. The sound vibrates in my pussy and I feel myself growing wet.

  I swirl my tongue. God—he’s so smooth. I taste the salty tang of his precum and I’m greedy for more. Opening my mouth wider, I swallow his length into my throat and I start bobbing my head. Up and down.

  “Fucking hell, Sophia.” His fingers tighten on the edge of the mattress. “You make it feel so good.”

  I groan deep in my throat and he feels it. One hand comes to my hair and he curls his fingers at my roots. His hips start to move off the bed. His cock drives further into my throat.

  This is heaven. The sounds he’s making. The way he’s touching me. Heat prickles the pit of my belly. I work my lips faster. I suck in my cheeks.

  Archie’s body goes tense. His gritty whisper rings out in the quiet room. “I’m about to come, baby. Don’t fucking stop. I’m about to come.”

  I suck him harder. Bob my head faster.

  He gives up control on a shuddering breath. His head drops back to the pillows on the bed. His shoulders de
flate.

  Ropes of cum shoot into my mouth and he roars.

  He gives himself to me. Completely.

  Finally.

  30

  Archie

  Agata Gallo finally pushes her ornate high-back dining chair away from the table, signaling the end of dinner. I stifle an exhale of relief.

  “I hope you liked the eggplant parmesan, Archie.” She says it in a sugary tone that really means, “I don’t give a fuck if you liked the eggplant parmesan, Archie.” She gracefully swoops the empty casserole dish from the gold-veined marble table.

  I give her a curt nod. “It was delicious. All of it. Thank you.”

  Sophia’s hand smooths over the rigid muscles of my thigh and gives a light squeeze right before she stands and helps her mother carry the dishes to the sink.

  This dinner has been a fucking train wreck with the entire Gallo family at the wheel.

  Things were tense from the minute I entered the door with Sophia and River. But the awkwardness ramped up tenfold once I overheard Agata telling her daughter to consider giving her ex a second chance. Apparently, the Gallo matriarch is mainly concerned about repairing her social status without giving two shits if it hurts Sophia in the process. Keeping up appearances is numero uno for Agata.

  Anyway, Sophia stomped out the idea of a reunion with Josh by casually informing her family that she loves the fuck out of me and that I—not Josh—am the father of her child.

  At that moment, I was sure Nonna Lucia was about to go into cardiac arrest. The old lady took a violent, shuddering breath and immediately pulled out her rosary beads. Then, she started muttering prayers for our condemned souls under her breath.

  Sophia’s pregnant sister, Angie, turns to her husband, Ben. “Be right back. I’ve gotta go use the bathroom.”

  He gives her an uncomfortable grin. “Hurry back. I miss you already.”