Love and Dreams

by Jean Oram

He lay down on his back, hands tucked under his head to form a pillow, struggling to keep his eyes from drifting closed. “Do you know the constellations?” he asked. He wished she’d curve herself into the hollow of his shoulder and warm his side with her heavenly body.

  “A few,” she admitted from her side of the mattress. “It looks like we could reach up and touch them tonight.”

  “Yeah.” His eyelids succumbed to the pull of gravity, but he promised himself he wouldn’t fall asleep on her again. Not until she did.

  “Another reason you love it here?” he asked, allowing a playful note into his voice.

  “That and being able to, um, well, do private things outside.” She laughed.

  He laced his fingers with hers. The silence between them stretched with unspoken words. “That’s a definite turn-on, you know.”

  He wanted her to know he loved how bold and brave she was. To let her know that he supported her strength. He admired her, and found her nothing less than amazing in every way he’d discovered thus far.

  “I’m really sorry I fell asleep.”

  “Connor, it’s okay. Really. I know you’re here for a break, and as I said, having a nice big screaming orgasm brought on by a handsome guy isn’t exactly a heartbreak for me.”

  She joined him on her back, her pose echoing his, her chest rising with every breath. It was hard to enjoy the stars with her by his side. He opened his eyes, the world spinning slightly.

  If he knew Maya, which he really didn’t, she’d show her bared chest to him again. The odds were great that if he didn’t blow it tonight, she’d be rocking those hips over his by the end of his vacation, her breasts bobbing deliciously with the motion. He only hoped he could explode whatever low expectations she had of him, as well as somehow, in the next nine days, find a way to retrieve his manhood from the dark hollows of his fatigue.

  * * *

  Connor awoke with Maya in his arms. He blinked and looked at her again, checking to make sure she was really there: a beautiful woman in his arms. A caring and smart woman who had his back and was… Damn, he had to stop thinking or he was going to turn into a bowl of mush.

  He barely dared breathe as he watched the mist rise off the water over Maya’s shoulder. It had been years since he’d slept this well. And on an air mattress on a dock, with mosquitoes buzzing around him all night, no less. It had to be the magic of Maya.

  A few hundred yards away a boat motored past slowly, voices drifting across the water, breaking the quiet spell of the sunrise.

  The craft turned between the two islands, and Connor hoped the sound wouldn’t wake Maya, so he could savor having her in his arms a little longer. Tipping his head to watch the boat, he inhaled Maya’s scent, a subtle blend of pine, lake water and something else distinctively hers.

  The boat puttered to a stop at the dock across the strait. Maya had said whoever owned the place had given her an offer for the cottage and that she’d show it to him, but she hadn’t done so yet. What had happened?

  Maya stirred as voices carried across the water once again.

  “Good morning,” Connor whispered as she propped herself on her arms, blinking at him, then at her surroundings.

  “I drank a lot, didn’t I?” she asked.

  Regrets.

  He hated mornings after. He was about to see self-loathing and disgust in those blue eyes of hers, or else a thrill that she’d bagged something good and was expecting a ring to come sliding onto that finger he’d sucked last night. And they still had to work together.

  “We did, yes.”

  “Hmm.” Her face became a scrunched up version of barely awake. Her eyes cut to his and he knew exactly what had just struck her mind. A flood of pink crossed her cheeks and he traced the color with the pad of his finger.

  “You’re blushing.”

  She dipped her head and giggled. “Did I really say all that horny stuff to you?” Her giggles turned to guffaws and he turned her over, needing to see her face in order to judge her reaction.

  She was honestly amused. How about that?

  He pinched her ass and laughed, letting her know she was safe with him. Always.

  Connor wanted to kiss her. He didn’t want to revert back to their professional shells. At the same time, he hadn’t hired someone to be his girlfriend, and things could get awkward if she felt uncomfortable about their romp. And she was embarrassed.

  Time for a distraction.

  “So?” He tipped his chin toward the island across the water. “They gave you an offer?”

  Maya’s expression changed to one of interest and hope. And that fiery passion he’d come to look forward to seeing. “They did. Not a great one, though.”

  “Market value?”

  “The island hasn’t been appraised, but I’m guessing it’s quite a bit below.”

  “Hmm.”

  “We may take it, though.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “We owe taxes.” She stood, shaking out her sleeping bag before briskly rolling it into a tight wad, her jaw clenched. “Hungry?”

  “Yeah.” He rolled off the air mattress and onto his hands and knees. Damn. The bed had felt good. Connor gazed up the path. Would he make it? His head wasn’t sending out piercing signals as it had been last night, but he felt as though he’d slept in a desert with his mouth wide open despite downing a few bottles of water before sleep.

  He licked his lips and tried to get some moisture to return. Good thing he hadn’t given Maya a good-morning kiss, or she’d think she’d been kissed by the dying.

  He watched her long, trim legs as she moved. He wanted to feel them wrapped around him again. Wanted to have her soft breasts in his hands, under his lips.

  Maybe, with Maya as his goal, he really could pull his health together. In the meantime, he had the monumental task of holding her off. He again glanced up the dirt path to the cottage. As with anything worthwhile, the first few steps were always the hardest—as would be the hundred crunches and push-ups he planned on doing that day in order to bulk up again.

  CHAPTER 8

  Every time Maya looked at Connor, her body reacted. To say her crush had returned would be similar to calling McDonald’s a small, family-owned burger stand. Now that she knew what his body could do to hers—with only his hands and mouth when he was dead tired—she was raring to go. All the time. She needed to find out what he was capable of when he wasn’t hammered and about to pass out. But most of all, she needed to find out how he felt to make love to.

  Moving across the kitchen as though he owned it, Connor laid a hand just below her waist and leaned across her, grabbing the saltshaker off the back of the stove. He looked at her, a hint of something in his expression, and her body moistened, tightened and yelled, “Charge!”

  She willed the reaction to fade so she could return to the business of making breakfast and being his not-quite-so-personal assistant—she needed a reference from him, not love.

  Love? This stupid cottage was getting to her. Anything between them was a temporary sexual affair and nothing more. It definitely wasn’t the whole “fall in love on Nymph Island” thing that had been happening in her family for generations, starting with their great-grandmother who had been gifted the cottage by a secret admirer. Neither she nor Connor had the time or desire to do anything as stupid as fall in love. They had goals. Walking down the aisle was not on the horizon. Getting him to rub the tingling tension out of her nipples? That definitely was.

  No, a reference. That’s what she wanted, not for things to get complicated, and sexual encounters always wound up that way.

  Oh, my. He kept coming closer to get items. If he reached across her chest one more time she was liable to push him down on the floor, pour pancake syrup over him and then lick every inch of him clean.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked, after clearing her throat.

  “Thirsty as a camel in the desert.”

  “Is that a lot?”

  “I imagine so.
”

  She passed him the jug of orange juice from the fridge as they continued to work to the sound of the generator chugging away, making scrambled eggs and her mother’s waffle recipe from scratch. Maya stirred the eggs and bit her bottom lip. Maybe if Connor was in a good mood she could convince him to dig deeper into the entrepreneur’s proposal with her, because her gut was telling her it was something that could make Connor more money than a lumberyard, as well as change lives. And if she made him money, she might just get a tad of it, too—or at least a steady job.

  “All ready?” He reached across her, taking the stack of waffles. She inhaled when his arm brushed her breasts.

  “All set,” she squeaked, joining him outside, trying to ignore the way she had nipple hard-ons that would rival last night. It was going to kill her going back to “just colleagues.”

  “Ever miss eating outside when you go home?” he asked, taking his seat.

  “Maybe I eat outside at home.” She winked at him and dished herself two waffles.

  “Nah. You don’t.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Too time-consuming. You’re all about reaching your goals. Eating outside is a luxury that doesn’t pay out dividends.”

  Maya laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

  He nodded, scooping eggs into his mouth. “Only because I think a lot like you do.”

  “Yeah?” She leaned forward, eager to hear what he had to say.

  “Yeah. But you need to learn to chill.”

  “Hey, wasn’t I watching the stars last night?”

  “Yes, and you were drunk.” He shot her a grin, taking her in with his gaze, consuming her in a way that made her want to rip her shirt off and straddle his lap.

  “Your point being?”

  “Want to hike around the island with me today?”

  “I have work to do.”

  “Oh, work.” He shook his head mockingly, as though she was making a big deal about trivial things, not keeping his butt out of hot water.

  “It’s your work.”

  “And I say cut out for a bit and take a hike.”

  “There’s a lot to do, Connor. And I really don’t think I should slack off or things will pile up.”

  “It’ll still be there. It’ll always be there. You never get to the end of the pile. Trust me. I’m on vacation, and as the island’s guest, I demand you guide me so I don’t get lost.”

  “It’s a small island.”

  “Chicken?”

  “Why would I be chicken?” She pushed back from the table, her chair legs scraping the veranda floor.

  “I think I see a yellow belly.”

  Maya stood. “Connor, it’s not funny. I have a dream and it’s not to be someone’s paid slave for the rest of my life. You said this is a job interview, and I’m taking it seriously. I want to be able to do things such as pay Nymph Island’s taxes, own a penthouse in Toronto and get a real job that invigorates me.”

  “This work doesn’t invigorate you?” He leaned back, crossing his arms, daring her.

  “Heck, no.” She braced her palms on the table. “Would checking emails all day invigorate you?”

  “A penthouse isn’t everything,” he said quietly.

  His tone suggested he’d lost something. Maya gave herself a shake. The man had everything and he was acting as though he was missing some stupid little thing such as picnics in the park.

  “Invite some friends over if you’re lonely in your big fancy penthouse.”

  “Who said I was lonely?” They stared at each other for a moment. “And friends I’ve met where, exactly?”

  “Functions, work, the gym.”

  “Maya, to be the king means making sacrifices. Have you considered the fact that your life—this dream of yours—might land you in the same pile of poo I’m living in?”

  “I know, balance and all that.” She crossed her own arms and jerked her chin. “And can I just say, some pile of poo.”

  “Do you know balance, Maya? Do you really?” He placed his hands flat on the table. “Because I think you don’t.”

  “More than you do.”

  “Then as your boss, I ask that you prove that by teaching it to me.”

  “What? Don’t go pulling the boss card on me! We’re―we’re…” She wanted to say “equals,” but that wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t even allowed her to touch him last night. He’d given her pleasure, but wouldn’t let her reciprocate.

  Why was she even thinking about last night? This was about work. And he was her boss.

  It was all so infuriating.

  Connor stood up in turn, so close she had to step back so she wouldn’t kiss him and forget her anger. He said in a low voice, his breath tickling her neck, “Then come for a hike. One walk won’t determine your whole destiny.”

  She had a feeling that he was very wrong, and that a hike could indeed determine her destiny. She just wasn’t sure how.

  * * *

  Maya put her hands on her hips and watched Connor finish slathering sunscreen across the bridge of his nose. Grinning, he reached out and dabbed a drop on hers.

  “Don’t get a burn,” he chirped.

  “It’s not even 9:00 a.m.”

  “Smile, Maya. This is fun.”

  “What’s with the sunny disposition?”

  “What? A guy can’t be cheerful?”

  “You’re up to something.”

  His grin grew even wider. “Nope.”

  She rubbed in the sunscreen and hoped this stupid hike around the island would be worth the time away from work. Connor had an incredible amount of email come in every hour, and it was up to her to cull that pile, not go stomping around in the bush. She hadn’t slept well on the dock, and wanted to do things with Connor that, in the light of the day, weren’t exactly appropriate, seeing how much power he held. And not just as her boss.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  Connor did a quick bend to touch his toes, then straightened. “Ready.”

  “Sure you can handle a hike? There are some steep slopes and loose rocks. The path is barely visible.” She eyed him closely. A few days in Muskoka were making a difference, but she could tell the man was still not quite himself.

  “Trust me. I grew up outdoors.”

  “Um-hmm.” Sure he had. If the outdoors was shown on a television screen.

  “I was in Boy Scouts.” He leaned closer. “And Beavers, too, you know.”

  “Big deal. Wasn’t everyone?” She mimicked his pose, loving the way his eyes twinkled in challenge. “I was a Brownie and a Girl Guide.”

  His lips twitched in amusement. “When does a Beaver become a Boy Scout?” Using a low, sensual voice that sent cool tremors up her spine, he said, “When he eats his first Brownie.”

  Maya snorted, trying not to laugh at the lame joke. “So, you never actually became a Boy Scout, then?”

  “I’m sure there’s still time.” His gaze roamed over her figure in a way that made her want to tug him down on top of the sun-warmed rocks and let him earn a badge or two.

  * * *

  He was dying. There was no other way to express what this hike was doing to Connor and his body. His lungs burned as though he’d inhaled acid. His legs had lost feeling and he was stumbling along, staring at Maya’s perfect posterior, to keep him placing one foot in front of the other so he wouldn’t lose the view.

  How could one island be so big? Why hadn’t he brought water? Or a hat? They had to have been hiking for at least an hour.

  “Almost there!” Maya called back in a singsong voice.

  Connor fumbled on the rocks, reaching out to catch himself on a nearby branch. The sapling bent under his weight and he went down in a sweaty heap behind Maya, who was skipping up the rocks like a mountain goat.

  “View’s great!” she said, shielding her eyes. “Over there behind that island is the inlet to the Indian River.”

  Yeah, his view from the blueberry bush that had broken his fall was great, too. He could
eat berries and stare up at Maya’s figure until he passed out.

  Maya turned, a silhouette against the glaring sun. She scrambled down to him. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.” He popped a berry toward his mouth and missed. “Just getting some antioxidants.”

  She tugged him out of the bush. “Wait until you see this view across the lake. You’ll love it. Totally different from the top of the hill over there.” She pointed behind them, and he studied the terrain. What in blue blazes? That had been downhill? This hike was starting to feel similar to his life: even downhill felt uphill.

  He groaned, his quads leaden. He trudged the last few feet to where Maya stood waiting. The breeze brushed against his hot skin, and he thought about walking down to the water for a dip, clothes and all.

  He fell onto his butt and loosely hugged his legs, trying not to wheeze as he stared out at the dark blue water.

  “Another ten minutes that way, and there’s a nice view of Windermere if you’ve got 20/20 vision.”

  “How long did we hike?”

  Maya shrugged. “About ten to fifteen minutes.”

  “That all?”

  “I know, it goes fast, doesn’t it? Suddenly it’s like—boom!—middle of nowhere.”

  He glanced at the broad expanses of rocks, trees, and water surrounding him. Middle of nowhere. Panic seeped into his soul and he fought the hit of adrenaline that urged him to run back to the cottage so he could check his email. Check his voice mail. Anything to prove he was still part of Toronto. That he existed and was still alive and needed. That he hadn’t been completely forgotten. It was already Thursday. He hadn’t been unplugged this long since before he started the company.

  “You’ve been checking my email, right?”

  Maya laughed. “Feels disconnected up here, eh?”

  He gave a brief nod. He was tempted to take his sticking shirt off, but wanted to be more buff for Maya. Even if he felt dead after the hike, he decided he was going do some exercises to help build his muscles again. He had all day to fit them in, and would do them one at a time. On the island there was nothing but time, and a body that wasn’t doing his life justice. He should be a hot bachelor, not a defective, useless old man.