What Dreams May Come (Berkley Sensation)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Clearing her throat, she said, “Sunday. Sunday is my Meditation Morning with Friends of the Forest.”

  He stared. She couldn’t be serious.

  She didn’t meet his eyes, but her lips firmed. “I really need it this week. It’s been a—very eventful week.”

  When she glanced at him again, he got the impression that he was one of the major events. His ego swelled, almost matching his body. His body that was getting tighter by the moment. His body that might start ruling his head any minute.

  “Would you like to come with me?” Shauna asked.

  To a Meditation Morning with some New-Age flakes called “Friends of the Forest”? More than anything else he wanted to be with her. Deep inside him a small, persistent need to please her started clamoring. “I’ve had a—uh—major week, too.” Understatement.

  Now she smiled up at him, trusting. An optimist. “We go to an old estate in Cherry Hills with huge trees. Very peaceful. You’ll like it.”

  He wondered if they’d be back in time for the Broncos kickoff. Hell, it was only the second preseason football game and he could miss it if he was rolling around with her in another kind of sport. The best sport.

  “Meditation Morning with Friends of the Forest. At an estate in Cherry Hills. Right,” he said neutrally. Could have been worse. Could have been Catholic Mass in the Basilica all morning. But the guys would understand Mass better than a meeting of the Friends of the Forest. Maybe they would never hear. Yeah. Maybe he had pink hair.

  Then he looked into Shauna’s eyes and was caught. They told him he was valued and valuable. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone looked at him like that.

  And she—she was small and lovely with a childlike wonder encased in her very womanly body. He sensed an underlying delight and passion in everything she did, and he wanted that passion directed at him. Hell, he wanted her entire concentration on him.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ll go with you. We can spend the day together.” To hell with the Bronco game. It was only preseason, after all. The way he and Shauna had connected earlier, it was a good bet he could talk her into bed tomorrow.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” He placed his fingertips at the small of her back and she trembled. He sucked in a deep breath and forced hot images from his brain.

  She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He nearly staggered at the thought. This was more than lust. Just by looking at her, a person could tell she wouldn’t hop into bed with a stranger.

  But she didn’t treat him like a stranger, and she didn’t feel like a stranger to him. That was so odd that it might have scared Jake a little last week. Certainly, he’d have played this whole scene differently. But he was trying to be more up front and honest, and it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought.

  Just how noble he could be with her in his condo the next day was a whole different question.

  Four

  The next morning Jake had second thoughts about the Friends of the Forest, but not about wanting Shauna, not after more hot dreams. They’d been even sexier since now he knew the scent of her arousal, the timbre of her voice, how her amber gaze seemed to melt after she kissed him.

  Shauna was special, not like any other woman he’d ever met. Okay, her type hadn’t attracted him before, women who wanted more than just a hot time between the sheets, some superficial dates. And how cold that all seemed now. How sterile.

  He pulled up in front of her house and recalled he’d been there before—twice. Once during a winter day when a gang of teen burglars had struck the neighborhood. No one was home. The second instance had been the night two small planes had collided in midair and fallen, one crashing a half-block away.

  The whole force had been called out that night, and he’d been part of a door-to-door giving residents correct information and looking for debris. Both times Boris had appeared on the front stoop before the porch, hissed, clawed, and pissed on his shoes—definitely making himself memorable. The house had been dark and he’d given a perfunctory knock and left as soon as possible. But the plane crash had been at the beginning of the year, just as night was falling.

  Now it was the end of summer, before the cold nights and the first frost, and what a difference! Her front yard was terraced and showed a verdant tangle of blooming flowers.

  He was halfway up the short sidewalk to her house when Shauna stepped from her enclosed front porch. “Jake.” She smiled. He returned it and helped her into his SUV.

  Jake was remembering Boris, and trying to remember Boris without thinking about how the ghost cat appeared in his life. As he drove, hazy visions of someplace else wisped into his mind. He wished he was at the gym where he could work out and think instead of on his way to a stupid New-Age thing. He answered Shauna’s social questions distractedly.

  “Please pull over, Jake,” Shauna said coolly.

  “What?”

  “I asked you to pull over.”

  He slid a glance to her. Her profile was probably as stern as a pretty face like hers could get. He signaled and steered to the side.

  When they were stopped, Shauna faced him. “Just what do you find objectionable about sitting in a peaceful natural setting for an hour and meditating?”

  “Ah.” He didn’t want to offend her, but she just stared at him with serious amber eyes, eyes that didn’t seem to indicate a mind that was the least flakey. He took his hands off the wheel and pushed his fingers through his hair.

  “I’d imagine you aren’t accustomed to meditation. Do you think it has no value?” she prompted.

  “No. That is, I know some people find it—ah—soothing.”

  Shauna nodded. “That’s right, I do. It settles me. And I find it even more useful when I’m surrounded by the beauty of nature. Do you have a problem with nature,

  Jake?”

  “I like to fish and camp the same as any other guy,” he said.

  “So you probably are used to settling your mind while doing something else.” She looked at him until a word was pulled from his lips.

  “Exercise. I exercise a lot. I work on my body and let my mind rest then—let it take care of itself.”

  She flashed a smile. “It shows that you exercise. And it shows that I don’t, a lot, but my new business will tone me up. Meanwhile, I find a need for meditation to let my mind rest. I don’t like to drive to the mountains every weekend, and it’s not easy meditating in Denver parks.”

  The thought of her sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed, completely defenseless, in a couple of the parks chilled him to the bone.

  “That leaves personal property. My own yard isn’t conducive to meditation, either.”

  She sounded way too logical.

  They watched each other. Shauna tilted her head and a little frown line knitted between her brows. “Is it the name? I can see how the name might put some people off.”

  “How could a normal guy even want to meet a person who was a ‘Friend of the Forest’?”

  Shauna chuckled. “It is a little New Age.”

  “Why didn’t you just call the group ‘Tree Huggers’?” Jake muttered.

  “Because we don’t hug trees. We just sit under them and meditate.”

  He could deal with meditation. Maybe. “Like the Society of Friends, the Quakers?”

  “I suppose so, though I’ve never been to a Quaker Meeting. The Friends of the Forest does have an activist branch, of course, and we have monthly meetings. But Sunday mornings are for meditation. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I’m sorry it makes you uncomfortable. The estate is only a couple of blocks away. I can walk. Someone will give me a ride home.”

  He didn’t want her to spend any time in anyone else’s company but his. “Seems a waste of time,” he muttered.

  “A waste of time?”

  He waved to the city outside the window. “It’s been hot all week. It’ll be hot today.”

  “And you’d rather be doing something, anything, other than just thinking or stilling
your thoughts and letting your mind rest.” Shauna unfastened her seat belt. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” She smiled at Jake, but he knew better than anyone else when a smile was false.

  He narrowed his eyes. “I want to spend time with you, the day with you.” He just plain wanted her.

  Shauna inclined her head and a considering expression came to her eyes. “Don’t the Broncos play today?”

  “Second preseason game. In Texas,” Jake said.

  “You strike me as a sports fan.”

  “I like to watch. I work hard. I play hard. I relax watching sports.”

  “Sounds like you’re a normal guy.”

  He hoped so. His hormones certainly were.

  “I suppose you were going to invite me to watch the game with you out at some sports bar?” Shauna said.

  Heat crept up the back of Jake’s neck. “Actually I thought we could watch it on my big-screen TV. In.”

  Her eyebrows lifted.

  His neck burned.

  Her lips twitched, but her eyes gleamed. Good.

  “I see.”

  “I have guacamole and chips,” Jake offered, as if food would make the invitation more innocent.

  “I don’t often watch sports,” Shauna said. “What with just starting my business, I have a lot of other things I should be doing.”

  Jake set his jaw.

  “But I want to spend time with you, too, Jake. I sense a compromise.” Shauna clicked her seat belt back into place.

  A breath he hadn’t been aware of holding released. “After the med—this thing, I could drop you off at your house and you could work a little. I’ll stop by the grocery and pick up a pizza. Kickoff is at two p.m. If you got to my condo by one, we could talk before the game.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Shauna looked straight ahead. Serene, hands folded on her lap. A faint smile curved her lips, as if she was contemplating food. He hoped she was thinking about tasting him, too.

  “About this upcoming hour. I can concentrate for an hour on my job,” Jake said, checked the empty road behind him and pulled away from the curb.

  “Or guacamole and chips this afternoon,” Shauna said with a laugh in her voice.

  So he was obvious. If it got her in his house, in his bed, he didn’t care.

  “Vanilla ice cream and hot fudge,” Shauna murmured.

  “What?” Jake said.

  “I like vanilla ice cream and hot fudge. For dessert,” Shauna said. “After the pizza. An all-American meal.” She licked her lips. “Hot fudge. Yum.”

  Yeah, right, Jake thought as he drove into the circular entryway of the Cherry Hill address and parked. Like he was going to be able to meditate after that comment.

  The owner of the large, old estate, Mrs. Freuhauff, was dressed in something gauzy and probably expensive. When introduced, she raised little painted-on eyebrows and showed even, white dentures in a smile. Her eyes were every bit as sharp as Shauna’s. Canny old lady. Canny young one, too, he thought as he saw Shauna putting new business cards discreetly on a patio table beside the path that led to the garden.

  They wended their way down the crushed red sandstone path until they reached a section of the estate that boasted towering trees.

  “Geeze,” Jake said. “These must be the oldest trees in Denver.” They arched overhead like a natural chapel. About twenty padded chairs were set in the deep shade. It was almost cold, the space obviously rarely getting direct sun. In the distance a large fountain tumbled water, the sound adding to the ambience.

  Shauna stopped suddenly and Jake ran into her. He reached out to steady her and felt a fine tremor go through her body. “What is it?”

  She slid her hand down to twine her fingers in his. “A dream. I dreamt earlier this week I was in a place—almost like this—but more, better,” she gasped.

  Jake didn’t know how it worked, but visuals flashed from her to him, and his own back. He tried to grasp them as they flitted. “No. It was an office. A shabby—” Their memories clashed in every way—an office/grove; a gray man/angel; ominous doors/windows of opportunity. Except they’d both seen the golden aspen leaf.

  He felt dizzy. “I’ll go save us some seats.” He dropped her hand. He wanted a minute to compose himself. Too bad he had to sit instead of run.

  Shauna looked up at him with eyes holding recollections of otherworldly experiences. “Sure, find seats for us, please. I want to talk to the facilitator a minute.”

  Facilitator. It echoed in his mind like an inward curse word.

  The garden filled and Jake observed those who entered. Mostly women, some tweedy-looking men, and even a regular guy or two. They nodded at him like they accepted him right off. Odd, but nice.

  People settled. Shauna stepped in front of the group, hands together and fingers twisting. She cleared her throat. “I asked Jennifer if I could provide the meditation topic for this morning and she graciously agreed.”

  Shauna’s cheeks pinkened. “I thought we should consider risk. I am not a risk-taker.” Her lips trembled. “But this week I quit my florist job and started my own business as a landscape designer.”

  There was a patter of applause and approving smiles. A lady in the row ahead of Jake murmured, “It’s about time.”

  Shauna ducked her head, then looked at those in front of her with steady eyes. She was adorable.

  “It was a very big risk for me, something I thought I’d never find the courage to do. I like security.”

  Jake shifted in his seat as dream-images flickered through his brain. Review sheets, his bad, hers good.

  She inhaled, held her breath, then released it. Several others around him did the same.

  “I brought a guest, Jake Forbes, a detective in the Denver Police Force. Police officers have inherently risky lives. They essentially put their lives on the line for society every day,” Shauna said.

  Jake recalled the sound and punch of the bullet that had knocked him down and rolled his shoulders to release tension. He didn’t think risk would be a good meditation topic. Who knew?

  “So I thought we should all meditate on risk. The amount of risk we have in our lives and whether it is enough.

  “My affirmation for the group is: ‘I step out of my comfort zone and risk change so my life might be more fulfilling.’” She ducked her head again. “Thank you.”

  Then she walked with a steady step to take her place next to Jake. As she sat, he naturally reached for her hand.

  The hour of thinking turned out to be too short. First he had to sort out the dream. His conclusion was that he’d screwed up before, and if he didn’t shape up, he’d be going through one very bad door.

  Then he thought of his promotion and his new woman partner, Maggie. He was determined to be straight with her at all times. His old manner toward all women had been one of superficial charm—that had worked on his ma best when she was clear of the drugs. But that was the old Jake. It was over.

  Shauna shifted and her body brushed his. And she invaded his thoughts. He hoped she’d take a risk with him. He had a strong feeling in his gut that he’d be risking a lot with her. It wouldn’t stop him.

  In the supermarket Jake noticed the strange sound first. An odd whooshing intermixed with little cackles of glee. He let the heavy glass refrigerator door slam shut. He had a bad feeling about this. His life had been blessedly Boris-free since the evening before.

  Sure enough, when he looked up, it was to see the ghost cat swooping down his aisle. Jake sighed.

  Boris did a loop-de-loop, then whizzed past Jake like a rocket. The cat sure could move with those wings. Golden wings. Completely incongruous on a black-and-white cat.

  “Got your wings, I see,” Jake said.

  “Yessssssss. I fulfilled my duty of ensuring you and Shauna met.”

  Jake grunted, eyed the wings closer as the cat hovered before him. “Gold, huh?”

  “They wanted to give me white!” The cat wrinkled its nose.

  “I thought all angel wing
s were white.”

  “Ordinary ones.”

  Well, that explained it.

  The cat hunched a wing-curve forward so he could admire it. “I did not want white. Or black. Or gray. Or silver. Or—”

  “I get it. Only gold.”

  “They will match My Crown,” he said smugly. “I will be awesome.”

  “You’ll be something.”

  “Open the seat of the basket so I can sit.”

  Rolling his eyes, Jake did so. Boris hovered, tottered, and landed in the seat with a lurch strong enough to rattle the beer bottles.

  Boris turned his head and surveyed Jake’s shopping with disgust. “There is only frozen pizza and imported beer here.”

  “I’m buying guacamole and chips, too.” And ice cream, hot fudge, and whipped cream.

  The cat sent him a sly look. “Shauna makes excellent guacamole. I, of course, do not eat plant mush, but I have heard other humans comment upon it.”

  Jake grunted again. “Maybe you can point out a good brand for me to buy, then.”

  Boris abandoned his seat to press his nose against the freezer door. Then his whole head went through the glass. It gave Jake the creeps. Probably unsanitary, too.

  When Boris’s voice came, it was oddly muffled. “Shauna likes this stuff.”

  Jake jerked open the door. “What?”

  Boris extended a paw to tap a frozen crust.

  “Quiche,” Jake grumbled. “Should have known. This will never work out.” Not that any affair lasted longer than a couple of months after the sex got average, and a guy shouldn’t really expect more. Hadn’t wanted more. Now he did, with Shauna.

  He recalled the look in Shauna’s eyes when she stared at him, wide and soft and interested. He got the fancy quiche and studied it. It had eggs, cheese, and bacon. How bad could it be? Looking at the instructions, he realized all he had to do was heat the oven and put it in, just like pizza, only a little longer. He tossed it in the basket.

  “Careful,” said Boris. “The crust can crumble and break.”