Dreaming Eli

by JoMarie DeGioia

  Shoving aside the whole damn business, he closed up shop and thought about his upcoming dinner with Caro. A smile tugged his lips. Maybe he’d get her to help him pick out a bed.

  Chapter 12

  “So this is what it’s like to finally get you into bed.”

  Eli’s voice was low and rumbly, his lips very close to Caro’s ear. Even though his words sent a tingle through her, she laughed and wriggled her toes.

  “Finally? We’ve known each other for about a week, Eli.”

  “Still.” He stretched his big frame and his feet nearly reached the bottom of the mattress. “It’s hard to know if this bed is right for me. Who knows if you kick in your sleep? Hog the covers? Could be a big mistake.”

  They were side by side and fully dressed, on a memory foam king-sized mattress in the first store they’d come to in St. Cloud, staring up at the ceiling. The store was much like any other, with rows of undressed mattresses made of various foams and mattress-y things. Caro wasn’t sure what all of it was, but this mattress they were sharing at the moment felt pretty comfortable. It was the sixth they’d tried out.

  “Do you like this one?” she asked him.

  Eli shrugged his shoulders and threw his arms wide, his hand just brushing the top of her head. “Hug me.”

  She turned her head to eye him. “Hug you?”

  He grinned. “Trying to keep it G-rated, Cupcake.”

  “It’s your mattress, Eli.”

  In answer to her counterpoint, he began to move up and down, holding his body taut and bowing back on every bounce. She glanced around and saw that several of the other customers in the store were starting to stare.

  “You’re treading into PG-13 territory, Graham Cracker.”

  He laughed and settled back down. “Still, you didn’t seem to bounce at all. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “It sure is,” said a salesman in khakis and a white oxford shirt standing a few beds away from them. “No transfer of motion.”

  Eli slid her a look and she could just guess what he was going to say next. He’d probably point out the kind of motion he’d like to transfer or something like that.

  She sat up and covered his mouth with her fingers. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He smiled beneath her fingers and then sat up too. She lowered her hand and he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I like this one. The lady wouldn’t hug me, but I can imagine how it would feel.”

  She shook her head. “Eli.”

  Grinning, he stood and reached into his pocket. “Let’s do this, my man.”

  The salesman nodded. “Great! When do you want us to deliver one of these Sleep Star Beauty kings?”

  Eli stared at him, and then looked at the large hang tag. Caro stifled a laugh at the silly name and the incredulous expression on Eli’s face.

  “Tomorrow.”

  The guy hurried around to the sales counter and clicked on the keyboard as he stared at the computer screen. “You’re in luck! We have it in stock right here in St. Cloud and can set it up for Saturday delivery!”

  “Cool.” Eli drew out his credit card and tapped it on the counter. “I’ll need a platform for it.”

  “What type?”

  “Something in a dark wood.” Eli pointed to a bed an aisle over. “Nothing fancy.”

  The salesman clicked as he added the model to Eli’s order. “Done.”

  “I’ll need bedding and stuff, too.”

  The salesman brightened. “We’re having our Labor Day sale right now, and we’ll include a six-hundred count Egyptian cotton sheet set and coverlet, along with two king pillows.”

  “Labor Day?” Eli asked. “That was, like, two weeks ago.”

  “Yeah, the holidays get longer every year.” The guy shrugged. “We have to do something to get us to Columbus Day.”

  Eli finished up his sale and he and Caro made their way back outside. “That was pretty easy.”

  “Easy? If you think so.”

  “How about the End Zone for dinner, Caro.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Eli drove them to the sports bar and she saw that the lot was getting pretty full. They were able to get a booth over on the dining side of the place, and the high wood backs made the spot feel very private. Almost intimate.

  The perky ponytailed server from her last visit was back, and greeted Eli like she was meeting an old friend. She was a bit less enthusiastic in her address to Caro.

  “What are you drinking?” she asked them.

  “Pumpkin ale, please,” Caro said.

  “And a Bud for me.” He looked at Caro. “Plate of hot wings, Cupcake?”

  “Sure,” Caro answered. “And the fish tacos.”

  “Make my dinner a burger. Medium rare,” Eli said.

  The server left them and Eli rested his folded arms on the table. “Is the food good here? You know, other than the wings?”

  “It’s okay. The fish tacos are surprisingly tasty.”

  The wings and beers soon arrived and they started what Caro was beginning to think of as their third date. There were all kinds of expectations on a third date. Sexual ones. Since she’d already gotten her hands on him, she anticipated that something more might happen sometime soon. He did just order a bed, after all.

  “So you’re going to be cleaning and setting up your place this weekend,” she began.

  “That’s the plan. Sunday, though? I plan to spend that with my favorite baker.”

  She flushed a little. His flirting comments were always delivered with that clear, crystal gaze. “I’ll look forward to seeing just what kind of home you’ll set up with your point-and-click method.”

  “Hmm. Maybe you should show me your place as a point of reference?”

  “No way, Eli. You set foot in my apartment and my mother will be setting a place for you at the family dinner table.”

  The surprise on his face was comical. “Why?”

  Caro turned her glass on the tabletop as she chose her words. “She’s been trying to fix me up.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I remember now. Any new slug men on the horizon?”

  “I hope not.”

  Eli drank from his bottle as he eyed her. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a family dinner table.”

  “Seriously? You, blond god that you are, never dated a girl who wanted to take you home to mom?”

  “Oh, they all wanted to take me home.” His eyes sparkled in the low light of the bar. “Just not to their mom.”

  “Well, don’t worry. I’ll make sure my mother doesn’t extend the invitation.” She teased him now. “I’ll run interference for you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Their meals arrived and they chatted a little as they ate. By the time they were through, he wore a different expression on his face. He was looking down, and his brow was knit.

  “Eli?”

  He looked up and his expression cleared. “Sorry. I was thinking about what we might want to do on Sunday.”

  “I don’t think that’s what you were thinking about.”

  “All right. You got me. I was hoping that you would tell your mom to call off the hunt, so to speak.”

  Whoa. Did he want them to be exclusive? Heck, did she?

  “Are you asking me to only date you?”

  “I’ll make you a deal, Cupcake. How about just you and me for now?”

  “For now?”

  “I don’t know if this job will work out. Who knows if I’ll be staying in Cypress?”

  She was aware that he had an end date here. From what she’d learned of him so far, he always had an end date.

  “Look, I get it,” she began. “Your house is rented. Your furniture leased. It’s like it’s all a trial membership, or something.”

  “Maybe.” There was a lot in that one word. Like maybe he wasn’t completely okay with it but it was what it was.

  “I do know I like being with you, Eli. The talking and the sexy stuff, too.”


  “What about your family?”

  “What about them?”

  “Don’t they need to know what’s going on in your life?”

  “I’m twenty-seven, so no.”

  He wore that thoughtful expression again. “Still.”

  “Why? Does your family always need to know what’s up with you?”

  That odd look crossed his face again. “I don’t have any family.”

  ***

  Eli saw the curiosity on Caro’s face, and looked for the pity that usually came after he made this particular disclosure. Not that he’d told many women about this. He almost always managed to end whatever was going on between them before the subject of family even came up. One- or two-night stands don’t usually ask about it.

  “I didn’t know that,” she said.

  He folded and unfolded one corner of his napkin over and over, his gaze on the table again. “Go ahead and ask.”

  She reached across the table and touched his hand, stilling him. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Eli. It’s none of my business.”

  He looked up and found her blue-green gaze direct. Open but not probing. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I’m an orphan. Grew up in foster care.”

  He watched her swallow down his confession. Nodding, she stroked his hand. “You didn’t have any family?” she asked softly.

  “Not really.” He shifted and took in a breath. “I had a few good foster homes. A couple of foster parents who cared about what happened to me. One of my foster dads gave me my first job.” He found a smile. “Got me into sales, actually.”

  She returned his smile with a small one of her own. “And that led you to working for Bill Chapman?”

  “Sure did.”

  “But you’re not in touch with any of them? Your foster families, that is?”

  “Christmas cards. Some, anyway. Since I’ve been working at Chapman, and had a steady address for the last three years, a few of the cards actually found me. I tried to send one in return when I could.”

  “You’ll be in Cypress Corners for Christmas,” she said.

  The memories of the lonely Christmases he’d spent in Boston, once he was on his own and working for a real living, were nothing to talk about. A few greeting cards were the extent of decorations in his apartment, even over the last few years.

  “With all of the Fall Festival decorations I’ve seen going up in the town square over the past few days? I’m a little scared about just what a Cypress Corners Christmas looks like.”

  She laughed, tossing her head back. “Believe me, they go all out. We might not get a white Christmas down here but I bet you won’t miss the snow.”

  “I won’t miss Boston snow. Not in the city. Gray and slushy and then brown and icy. Not exactly the picture postcard New England holiday.”

  He stopped himself before sharing the lovely tidbit that the one Christmas with his mother he remembered, or thought he remembered, was cold and dirty and not even a little bit merry.

  “So you’ll be sending out Christmas cards with palm trees on them this year?” she teased.

  “I guess.” He arched a brow. “Maybe I should file a change of address with the Post Office.”

  “So those cards from your foster parents can find you?”

  He shrugged in answer.

  She tilted her head to one said. “There are worse things than keeping in touch with family, Eli. I might bitch and moan about it, but I love knowing I have them in my life.”

  “Family? They’re not family.”

  She blinked. “They’re not?”

  “Nope. I have no fucking clue how to do family.” He snorted. “It’s a good thing I’ve never really had to learn.”

  Caro leaned toward him, her gaze searching his face. He tried to put on his usual mask, and figured he succeeded a little when she patted his hand and sat back.

  “So what are we doing on Sunday?” she asked.

  “Then we’re seeing each other, Cupcake?”

  She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “If that’s what you want to call it, that’s okay with me.”

  “Just each other?” he asked her.

  “Sounds good.”

  It sounded damn good to him, as surprising as that should be. At this second she looked soft and sweet, and he was damned if he didn’t want to drag her out to his truck and see just how much they could manage to do without a bed. He did still have that blanket, though.

  “I’d ask you to come home with me but you’re working tomorrow,” he said.

  He saw the flash of regret in her eyes before she nodded. “At the butt-crack of dawn.”

  “I’ll be setting up my place. Maybe you can come over tomorrow night?”

  A slow smile lifted one corner of her lush mouth. “You’ll have all of your furniture, Eli.”

  “Yep. All of it.”

  “Even your Sleep Star Beauty?”

  He chuckled at the ridiculous name of his new mattress. “Yep. Do you think I could get that hug then, Cupcake?”

  “I anticipate some hugging, Graham Cracker.”

  Chapter 13

  Caro stepped out of the front of the bakery on Saturday afternoon, a bag of the now-perfected pumpkin walnut spice biscotti in her hand. She left Jane to lock up and set the alarm, and figured she would stop into the coffee shop to get herself and Eli each a drink, since she didn’t know if he’d had the chance to point-and-click himself a new coffee maker yet. These particular biscotti were expressly for Eli, and she knew he’d love them. She wanted to put a smile on that handsome face of his ever since seeing the tiniest glimpse of the sad boy he’d been.

  They’d texted a few times throughout the day, and he’d even stopped by to say hello. To break up his day of cleaning and heavy lifting, he’d said. The heavy-lifting she could easily believe. He’d worn a pair of those loose basketball shorts again with another sleeveless T. His hair was mussed and his face ruddy, and she’d barely refrained from jumping over the counter and kissing him silly.

  Jane had questioned her in the kitchens, and Ashlyn had done likewise in the dining area. They’d both stage-whispered, which was fruitless. This was Cypress, after all. Caro was sure that half the town knew she was seeing Eli by now.

  “Yoo-hoo, Caroline!”

  The sing-song voice of Lettie Fairfax confirmed Caro’s suspicions on that count. There were quite a few people on the sidewalk despite the heat of the afternoon, and she smiled in greeting to them as she passed. She turned and strolled over to where Lettie sat beneath the crepe myrtle. She wore her usual gardening smock and a knowing smile.

  “Good afternoon, Lettie.”

  “Hello, dear. You’ve been busy at work, I see.”

  Caro smiled as she brushed at some stray flour that dusted her T-shirt. “Yes. It’s been very busy.”

  “And you deserve every bit of your success.”

  Caro dipped her head. “Thank you.”

  “You know, I’ve been watching your place since you opened your doors.” Lettie winked. “I do have an excellent vantage point.”

  “And you do send Tom in to pick up a treat for you now and then,” Caro added. “I appreciate your business.”

  “Oh, it’s well-deserved. Those marshmallow brownies of yours are to die for. I have to limit my indulgences, however.”

  “Oh?” Caro thought to give Lettie a little bit of her own medicine. “Are you dating again?”

  Lettie let loose with a tinkling laugh. “Heavens, no! Mr. Fairfax had some very big shoes to fill, dear girl. If you catch my meaning.”

  Caro wasn’t going to touch that one. “Sure.”

  Lettie placed her hands on her narrow waist. “I just like to keep my figure for my own sake. A woman has a reputation to uphold, you know.”

  “Well, I think you look wonderful.”

  “And you’re just as good for my ego as you are for my sweet tooth.”

  Caro shrugged. “That’s why Sweet Escape is doing so well, I think. I’m satisfying Cypress Corne
rs’ sweet tooth.”

  “That’s not all you’re satisfying,” Lettie said.

  Caro stilled. And here it comes. “I’m not sure I get what you mean.”

  Lettie laughed again, drawing attention from a few of the other coffee shop patrons seated in the courtyard. “Oh, Caroline. I’m talking about that gorgeous Eli Graham, is all.” She held up a hand. “Not that I’m prying. Heaven knows you don’t need another woman getting mixed up in your private life.”

  “No, I really don’t,” Caro said without anger.

  “Mmm hmm. How is your mother these days?”

  It was Caro’s turn to laugh. “There isn’t much you miss, is there?”

  “Not if I can help it.” Lettie took a sip of her sweet tea and then set the tall cup back down. “Not if I can help it.”

  “I will say this, Lettie. Eli and I are dating. But that’s all I’ll say.”

  Lettie gave a sharp nod. “Good for you. A woman deserves to keep her secrets, even one as fine as that big blond hunk of man.”

  “Speaking of, I’m bringing him some of the treats we’re planning to sell at the Fall Festival.”

  “You’re not holding out on me, are you?”

  Caro clicked her tongue as she shrugged. “I’m afraid I am. But I will tell you one thing. You will just love these.”

  “I bet I will.” Lettie waved a hand at her. “Now go on and get to that young man of yours. I imagine he has an appetite to go along with all of those muscles.”

  She shouldn’t indulge Lettie. She knew this. But she couldn’t resist giving her just a little bit of fuel for her fire.

  “He sure does.”

  Lettie’s laughter followed her all the way into the coffee shop.

  When she stood on Eli’s front porch a little while later, the pressed cardboard cup holder tray and bag of biscotti balanced with one hand, she glanced down. She should have stopped home to change, but that might have caught her mother’s attention. Oh, well. Lettie had said she’s entitled to her secrets, not that this one would keep for very much longer.

  Eli opened the door with a wide smile. “Hey, there.”

  He’d changed since she’d seen him last, and now wore cargo shorts and a vintage-looking T. He’d showered too. His hair was still damp, the blond waves appearing a little bit darker. He hadn’t shaved, but that wasn’t a mistake in her considered opinion. She really liked his golden stubble.