Man of My Dreams

by Faith Andrews

  If I pick Declan, Noah will be crushed. I’ll never really know what we could’ve had because I didn’t give it a shot. Noah is an amazing man, with so much to offer. He makes me feel alive again and he makes me wonder about why things happen the way they do. But as excruciating as it is to face the truth, the truth is that Noah and I never really had a chance because my heart belongs to someone else.

  I look up at Declan, the one and only man of my dreams, and the answers to all of my questions are written across his face. He loves me, he needs me, and he wants me. We’ve been through the worst and he still sees me as his one and only…we’ll have the rest of our lives to make it work. But right now, I need a few more moments of time to devote to Noah. He deserves an explanation. “Dec, let Grace take a look at your nose. I have to talk to Noah.”

  Declan gnaws on his puffy lip, contemplating. “You’ll come right back?”

  “Yes, baby. I’m coming back.” I hope he understands the weight that phrase carries with it.

  I turn my back on my husband, knowing this will be the last time I ever do that. Walking closer to Noah, my heart takes up a slow-motion sort of beat. My mouth becomes dry and my hands start to shake. This is so much harder than it seems. Yes, I love Declan, but there is nothing not to love about Noah too. He deserves someone who can give everything to him, and I’m not that someone.

  “Hey,” he says, with a thickened voice, starting down at his feet.

  “Hey,” I say, lifting his chin up with my index finger. “I’m sorry, Noah. I never wanted to…”

  He lifts a brawny hand up to my lips, “Shh. You don’t have to explain. I understand. But I just want to know one thing.”

  I nod, agreeing to answer his unspoken question.

  “Were you happy? Was it real or was it all a distraction from what was really going on inside your head?”

  His question hurts. I hate for him to think of it that way because when I was with him it was real, genuine. My heart was tethered to another man, but it was starting to sway a different way with every new day with Noah. The problem, though—I realized tonight that it would never have been totally free to belong to someone else.

  Removing Noah’s hands from my face, I step back, realizing this will be the last time we’ll ever touch. There’s a pang of disappointment, but also a wave of relief that comes along with it. “You made me very happy, Noah. I’ll have nothing but wonderful memories of our time together, past and present. But…” But what? I can’t even form the words. It’s just too harsh. He deserves better.

  “I know, Mia. This is goodbye. It’s okay, don’t beat yourself up about it. I wish things could’ve been different…I should have snatched you up in high school, made you my girl then. I would have never let go.” He licks his lips and breathes in a slow, measured breath through his nose. “But if he makes the mistake of letting you go again, you better come find me.”

  I can’t make that promise to him. It would be like giving false hope or, worse, admitting that my marriage might not work after all. Instead, I just smile, leaning in to kiss Noah on his bruised cheek. “Goodbye, Noah.” I hate that I have to say goodbye because what I’ll miss most about him is our friendship.

  “Goodbye, beautiful.” He shares a quick glance with Declan before walking away. It’s a look of warning, congratulations, and regret all rolled into one.

  Declan lets it slide, walking back to me.

  “I’ll go get the car,” Grace says, heading for the parking lot.

  When we’re alone again, encased by the muted glow of the street lamps and the muffled thumping of the music from inside the bar, I’m reminded of that night. The first night at the Alibi. Our first date, our first kiss. The beginning of this beautiful story.

  “Can we go home now? Start the rest of our forever?” His words are so simple but so beautiful. Makes me wish he would write them down, put them to music, and do what he knows how to do best.

  “Forever can start after the hospital.” I wiggle out of his shielding embrace to inspect his face. The remaining blood has dried and darkened. His nose, once straight and perfect, now swollen and discolored. He’s still goddamn breathtaking though, just with a little character now.

  “I’m fine, Mia. We don’t need to go…”

  “Oh, just shut up. When are you going to learn to trust that I know best?”

  “If I trusted you to make all the decisions, you might be getting in that pick-up truck with your boyfriend right now.”

  I slap his shoulder, miffed that he’s brought it up when it’s still so fresh.

  “I’m kidding, Mia. I shouldn’t have said that and we’ll go to the hospital, but not because you said so, because it fucking hurts. That dude has a nasty right hook. You don’t just break another guy’s nose for anyone…you were special to him. I’m sure of it.”

  This is so awkward. I don’t want to confide in Declan about Noah. That’s crossing a line. That’s what I have Grace for. I hope I still have Grace after all I’ve put her through these last few months.

  On cue, she pulls up to the curb, unlocking the doors. “Hop in, you two.”

  Declan opens the back door to Grace’s Volvo and ushers me in. I expect the door to close and for Declan to get in the front seat, beside Grace. Instead, he scoots me over and sits next to me in the back seat. Grace turns around smiling, “You’re going to make me your goddamn chauffeur? Some best friend.” She turns back to face the road, putting the car in drive.

  I reach over the seat and squeeze Grace’s shoulder. “Thank you, Grace. You’re the bestest best friend in the entire world. The Thelma to my Louise.”

  “The Kimmy to my DJ.”

  “The Kelly to my Donna.”

  Declan chimes in, breaking up the banter. “And I’m the Corey to your Topanga, now enough with the ‘90s trivia shit. Get me to the hospital so they can set this back in place. I don’t want a constant reminder of this night every time I look in the mirror.”

  I do my best annoying baby talk impression. “Oh, my poor baby’s vain. You afraid you’ll lose those boyish good looks and the charm that goes with it?”

  He loops his strong arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He nuzzles his face in my neck carefully, avoiding any direct contact with his nose. “I don’t give a shit what I look like as long as you don’t mind.”

  I give in to the comfort of being back in my husband’s arms. This is where I belong. “Declan, you’re gorgeous, every woman’s dream. You stole my heart the minute you said my name in that library and it’s belonged to you, and only you, ever since. I think I need a matching tattoo…all those ones around your name. It’s always been you, my one and only.”

  “Oh, you two make me sick.” Grace complains, as I flash a ridiculous smile at her through the rear view mirror.

  “Shut up and drive.” I joke before hearing the faint beat of a familiar song coming from the radio. “Turn that up, Grace!”

  Her hand hovers over the knob of the stereo as a huge smile stretches across her face.

  “Is this your CD, Grace? What did you plan a soundtrack for our evening?” It’s too perfect for it to be coincidence.

  “No, but if I could’ve this would have been it.”

  Declan looks at me and laughs, understanding the connection Grace and I have to the song. The connection he and I have to the song.

  Grace and I start belting out the words, channeling our best impersonations of Pat Benatar. By the time we get to the chorus, Declan’s joined in, with his own soulful, raspy twist on the meaningful words. Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better we belong, we belong, we belong together.

  How could I have ever doubted us? Declan and I belonged together from that second he said my name in the library, maybe even before then. I listen to my husband singing the sweet words, his arms tangled around me—this is right where I belong.

  My greedy hands roam his sweat-glistening body. I wrap my legs around his waist, and let him fill me up, slowly at first, i
nch by inch. I love when he teases me, when we have the time to play like this. I smile as it all comes into focus. I was a fun girl in my twenties, but I’m a confident woman in my thirties. A wicked grin splays across my heated face as I grip a fistful of his hair and whisper into his ear, “Harder.”

  With a harsh thrust he answers my request, pounding into me and making me moan with the pleasure of deep penetration. He rocks into me, watching me, telling me with his eyes how much he loves me. He lifts my arm to his mouth to kiss my wrist, the place where I’ve branded myself with his name. It may have taken a while to make the right decision, but my body felt incomplete without it. “This thing is so fucking hot, Mia. You’re so fucking hot.”

  How he can see me like this after so many years just floors me. I’m so goddamn lucky. I bring my hand up to his heart, loving the feel of the galloping underneath. I trace the tattooed shape around my name, in awe of how far we’ve come.

  “You’re my number one, baby. You’ll always be my number one.”

  The heavenly tremors course through me as I open my eyes. It’s light out, the sun creeping brightly through the gaps in the window coverings. I stretch groggily, feeling for Declan—the man who can make me feel like this even in my dreams. But his side of the bed is empty. The girls are definitely up, the baby’s quiet. Where can they all be? Strange.

  I slide my feet into my slippers and shuffle through my bedroom into the hallway. I peek into Edward’s bedroom first, but the crib’s empty. I walk a few more feet down the hall to check on Cara and Charlie. Their TV is on, but their room, and its strewn-all-over-the-place contents, is vacant. I head for the stairs, suspicious of the silence. The kitchen is usually boisterous with my family’s morning rituals, but today there’s not a trace of them. No empty cereal bowls or dirty napkins. Not even an unfinished baby bottle or bib. Where the hell is everyone?

  I make my way to the phone to call Declan. Maybe he took them out for breakfast and decided to let me sleep in. I’ve been working my butt off trying to finish this book and getting little sleep with Edward’s teething. That’s got to be what it is. A break. I have the best damn husband in the world. But before I have the chance to press send on the call, I hear subdued noises coming from downstairs.

  I open the door to the staircase of the newly finished basement and almost collide with Cara, who is cradling Edward in her arms. “Morning, Mom.”

  “Morning, baby. What’s going on?”

  “Edward pooped. I’m running up to change him.”

  I open my arms to take my son from his sister, but Cara rejects the offer. “No, I got him. Charlie’s right behind me. She was helping Dad with something.”

  I smile, tapping her atop her long blond waves. When the hell did she grow up?

  Charlie comes pummeling up the steps, nearly knocking me down. “Oh. Hey, Mommy. Did you see Cara? She’s got EC. He pooped.”

  I shake my head, trying hard not to smirk. “Baby, you’ve got to stop calling him that. That’s not why I named him that.”

  “Yeah, sure. You love a vampire more than you love our dad. It’s okay, we get it, but I’m team Jacob all the way!” Charlie dismisses me as she breezes past me in the stairway.

  I shout out over my shoulder, “I named him after Papa’s dad, Charlie. Not a Twilight character!” This is starting to get old. I might have to give him a nickname or something.

  Walking down the steps, I admit to myself that Twilight definitely did have a little something to do with his name, considering the books are what got me all hot and bothered and caused the conception of the vampire’s namesake in the first place. They caused the conception of a lot of things, including my new hobby.

  I turn the corner, past my pretty, Pottery Barn-inspired workspace to find Declan in his favorite spot. He’s seated at the desk in his studio, scribbling away. The studio was a gift for our fifth anniversary, the first one after our separation. Declan needed a place to be creative, to live out his real dreams and to write all those beautiful words that make me swoon. Most nights I can’t get him out of here. I think he loves the writing more than he loves me. But I understand that now too.

  “What are you working on, babe?” I creep up behind Declan, startling him.

  “Oh shit, Mia. You scared the crap out of me.” He hovers over his notebook, hiding whatever he’s up to.

  I roll his chair out from underneath the desk, straddling his lap. “Is it for me?”

  “Maybe,” he says against my neck.

  “I can’t wait to hear it. If it’s anything like the last one we may be welcoming a fourth baby soon.”

  Declan’s lips stiffen and his hands pull my head back, tugging on my hair. “Way to kill the mood. No more baby talk. Three is enough to handle right now. Four would put me over the edge.”

  “Oh! Now that you’re home all the time you see it’s not that easy, huh?”

  “I don’t know how you did it when the girls were small. Fucking supermom. A hot, sexy supermom.”

  I giggle as Declan nibbles my ear, the warmth of his breath creating a warmth down below. I turn my head so I can kiss him, fixing my hungry mouth against his. It never gets old, the reaction of us connecting this way. The sexy hitch of his breath, the low growl in his throat. My heart starts to quicken as his fingers make their sly descent into my panties.

  “Dec, we can’t.” I squirm on top of him, hating my own words. I wish we could wherever, whenever, however.

  “I thought that’s why you had this room built for me. Soundproof walls. I’ll close the blinds. The kids are busy upstairs—we can squeeze in a quickie.”

  “I can’t, babe. I have work to do today. There’s a deadline on that article for the magazine and I want to get in another chapter for the book…the voices are talking to me again.” My smile grows wide and bright. So many things make me happy these days: my husband, my kids, my writing. But feeling like I have a purpose in life, a calling other than to just raise my kids, makes this ordinary life seem like a dream come true.

  “Oh yeah, listen to that.” He presses his ear to the side of my head. “I hear them too. They’re saying you have time for a quickie.”

  To the best friend a girl could ask for. Tara, you were the very first person I told about my adventure into the writing world. Since day one, and even before, you have been a constant supporter, advisor, and #1 fan! Your enthusiasm as I sent you snippets, chapter by chapter, fueled me to keep on going and for that I am forever in your debt. You are a true one-of-a-kind, like-no-other BFF for life. Thank you for always being there for me throughout all the crazy, amazing, memorable years. I love you like a sister and couldn’t live without you.

  To my husband, Jon, and my two beautiful daughters, Julia and Leah. You got the raw end of this bargain—an inattentive wife and Mommy, nights with crappy dinners, days plopped in front of the TV for entertainment, and constant stress-induced mood swings. I’m so sorry! I could not have done this—embarked on this dream of a journey—without all three of you in my corner. Jon, I can’t imagine how my life would have turned out had we not met in the halls of our high school so many years ago. I have not one single regret and I am thankful every day that you have stuck by me, supported me, and loved me through more than half of my life. To my girls, being your Mommy is a blessing. You inspire me, make me laugh and smile, and lots of times you make me shake my head, but the two of you complete me!! I love you “whole sky” and so much more!

  To my Mom and my sisters. Together we are four strong, stubborn, loving, caring, wacky women—different in so many ways, but alike in more ways than we truly know. Mom, thank you for making sure we keep as close as we should and for always being our rock. You’re not only my mother, but one hell of a great friend! Vanessa and Paige, thank you for letting me be me—never stop being you. That’s why I love you both so much.

  To my in-laws. I hate calling you that because you are as much a part of me as my own parents and siblings. Even before word was out, I could always count on you f
or support. Thank you for the numerous, impromptu times you picked up the kids and whisked them away to their home away from home so I could enjoy a few moments of “me” time. You are the warmest, kindest, most generous and loving family and I thank my lucky stars every day that you welcomed me in to it.

  To my friends who were dragged into this early on. Tara, Trish, Marianne, Celeste, Jessica, Christine, and Erica—you were my guinea pigs! And your encouraging words and suggestions through ping-ponging texts and emails were so important to me. Thank you for believing in me and for helping me get over my fear of putting my writing out there.

  To my critique partners who I consider invaluable, lifelong friends now; Ruthie Henrick, Carol Opalinski, and Virginia Pierce. It’s hard to put into words what you mean to me. It started out as pure gratitude for polishing my work and pointing out the “no-nos.” It turned into so much more. The three of you are so gifted; your talent completely unique and inspiring. I look forward to your emails and texts because our relationships have grown and blossomed into something far beyond critiquing. Thank you for pushing me and always being there for me, even when I was whining or complaining or being a kvetch.

  To the authors who took the time out of their busy, successful lives to email, tweet, chat or respond to a newbie. Jennifer Probst, Jasinda Wilder, E.L. Montes, and Gail McHugh, thank you for all the unending advice. To Gail McHugh, especially, who practically took me under her wing and showed me the ropes of the indie author world. You totally rock…hard! Not only are you someone I aspire to be like because of your beautiful talent, but your humbleness astounds me. I sincerely appreciate every email, Facebook message, phone call, shout out, and simple “like” of a comment—you never leave me hanging and always have this way of making me feel like I can do this!

  To the bloggers, Facebook groups, and readers who took a chance on an unknown newbie and pimped my page, shared my links, read my teasers and just existed in a cyberworld that started off so lonely. A special thanks to Lisa Maurer of True Story Book Blog, Amy McAvoy of Schmexy Girl Book Blog, Heather Carver of Morning After a Good Book, the three amazing sisters at Love Between the Sheets, the supportive, wonderful friends I’ve made on the Book Babes group, my Gotta Have Faith street team, and Stuart West for being one cool dude.