Dream Keeper (Indigo)

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Dream Keeper (Indigo) Page 4

by Gail McFarland


  A second later, he stood framed in the doorway. “Hey, baby.” When he walked toward her, his stride careless and long, she memorized every move. Three steps into the room, her resolve broke and the squeal that escaped her as she launched herself into his arms made him laugh. The arms that caught her made her want to cry—she’d missed him that much.

  “Welcome back.” She pushed her weight against him, throwing him back against the wall and pressing her lips to his, drawing away only a hair’s breadth when his hands pulled her closer, and she found herself against the wall, clutching his jacket, holding him in return. His mouth on hers and his hands moving beneath her shirt claimed her.

  His breath was hot and moist against the column of her throat. His voice, striped with low, growling hunger, tightened her core. “Girl, you don’t know how much I missed you, ’cause you know I love you like…”

  “Jesus loved the church,” she whispered, crushing her mouth to his, her long leg wrapping his and binding him close. The taste and feel of him was everything she remembered, wanted, and craved. “Dench,” she whispered, needing to say his name.

  “Tell me you missed me.”

  “I did, I do. Always and endlessly.” Clarity reared its silly head when his hand slipped past her waistband. “We’re in the kitchen, Dench.”

  “It’s paid for.” He grinned and hummed when his tongue licked at her ear. “And we’re grown.”

  “And we’ve got company coming. Later.” Her teeth closed lightly on his lower lip.

  He hummed again and felt his hunger surge when her hand found skin beneath his shirt. “Bedroom might be better.”

  Rissa didn’t know whether to scream or swoon when he swept her up and over his shoulder. She settled for looping an arm around him as he carried her through the house, and she tangled herself with him when her feet hit the floor at the side of their bed. Pulling him with her, she enjoyed the tumble as they fell together. “This is the bedroom.” Her voice was low and husky. “Show me how it’s better.”

  Desire fanned her words and heat licked at his soul. She could feel it steaming from him in waves, from his hands as they touched her, from his skin against hers. She felt it burn and strain when he kissed her, and her urgency aroused him, made him more than he’d ever meant to be for anyone. A wisecrack died on his tongue. In her arms, captured by desire, he found himself linked to her by more than passion-flavored sex when her long legs climbed his back.

  He felt himself fall away when the taste of her filled him and the lean curving length of her entranced him. Going deeper, he plundered all that she held for him. A tender cry passed her lips, creasing the night around them, and buried in her, he knew he was home. His lips, hands, and body stoked her yearnings and their cries became a shared moan as he met her call to parts of him that no other woman would ever touch in the same way.

  “Rissa.”

  She heard her name, distant as the stars, and as close as his heartbeat.

  “Rissa.”

  Her fingers gliding along the planes of his back tattooed him. Her eyes soft, her smile languid, her fingers held his face. Tracing his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his lips, she sighed softly. The hell with Marlea. Looking up into his face, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her breast, Rissa took a deep breath, her lips parted—and her words were stopped by the distant sound of door chimes.

  “Dude, is that the door?” Dench moved, switching on a bedside lamp.

  “Crap!” Rissa sat straight up and glared at the bedside clock—seven on the dot. “AJ and Marlea,” she growled. “Damn her prompt little heart. They’re here to trim the tree. You let them in while I grab a shower.”

  “What?” Propped on an elbow, his chest bare, Dench raised an eyebrow at his wife. “And I should just walk around smelling like sex all night?”

  “Now, Dennis Charles Traylor, is that really what you think I would have you do?” The eyebrow dropped and he looked sheepish. “I’m going to grab a quick shower and then you can have one. I’d offer to share, but I know how you are and we can’t just ignore them—as much as I might want to.” She scooted from the bed and headed for the bathroom. At the door she turned slightly, suggestion in her eyes. “We’ll finish this a little later, okay?”

  “I’ll meet you right here.” Admiring his wife’s rear view, Dench nodded and swung his legs off the bed. He pulled on jeans and a shirt and headed for the front door. Still buttoning his shirt, he looked out to find Marlea and AJ. Standing slightly behind them, Mrs. Baldwin stood patiently holding Nia and Jabari’s hands. Opening the door, he saw Connie in the driveway, climbing out of her car. Jeannette emerged from the other door with a shopping bag.

  Wouldn’t be a party without them. “Looks like a full house.” He grinned. “Come on in!”

  “House this big will never be full.” Connie squeezed Marlea and AJ into a hug.

  “Y’all hungry? I know Rissa’s got some…”

  “I’m saving my appetite for those cookies I know Mrs. Baldwin’s baking!”

  “Thought you were on a diet.” Connie looked critical.

  “That’s why I saved my appetite,” Jeannette explained patiently.

  “Mebby Kismas!” Nia and Jabari waved frantically up at their godmothers. Connie and Jeannette returned the enthusiastic greetings and bent to kiss cold cheeks before the children were hustled through the door, barely managing to keep up with Mrs. Baldwin’s longer stride. The housekeeper smiled, nodded, muttered something about cookies, and aimed the children toward the kitchen. Seconds later, the house sound system came up and the air was filled with Christmas carols.

  “Come on in, it’s cold out there.” Dench ignored the look on AJ’s face and waved them all in. Marlea took two steps past him and looked back at AJ, who grinned.

  “I take it you just got home?” Marlea didn’t try to hide her smirk. “Catching up on things with Rissa? All the news?”

  “He just got here,” Rissa insisted, appearing at the end of the hall. “We didn’t have time for dinner, let alone current events.”

  “Or shoes,” Marlea teased. Dench shoved one bare foot behind the other and looked more than a little guilty when she passed her family’s coats to him. She watched him walk away, then turned to Rissa. “What did you do, jump on the man the second he got through the door?”

  “He was gone for two weeks.”

  “So you tried to cripple him when he got back?”

  Before Rissa could answer, Nia threw herself against her mother’s legs, nearly buckling her knees, and clung there with tears glazing her cheeks. About the time Marlea hoisted the little girl to her hip, Jabari burst from the kitchen. Seeing his mother’s occupation, he headed for his father and promptly climbed into his arms.

  “What in the world?”

  “See what you have to look forward to?” Marlea whispered, producing a tissue and soft words for her daughter. Her palm pressed against her daughter’s back and smoothed away the hiccups and sniffing. “Nia? Jabari?”

  Needing little urging, Jabari blurted, “I’m good, Mommy. Nia, too. Real good.” His balled fist scrubbed at his runny nose before he burrowed his face into AJ’s shoulder, and Rissa’s heart nearly broke—he just looked too damned much like AJ.

  Rissa’s hand flattened over her stomach. My baby’s going to look just like Dench.

  Connie came quickly around the corner from the kitchen, waving her finger. “It’s Jeannette’s fault. She was in there talking bad about Santa Claus.”

  “All we did was walk through the door.” Hands raised in defense, Jeannette followed. “Then all I said was that Santa only visits good girls and boys. I never said a word about…” She hunched her shoulders and looked innocent.

  “Fine co-godmother you are, scaring the babies like that,” Connie sniffed.

  “I’m a good godmother and they love me.” Jeannette tossed her head as she reached to lay a hand on Nia’s head. At her touch, the little girl sighed and Jeannette smirked. “See?”

&n
bsp; Connie’s hands went to her hips. “She’s young yet.”

  “I swear.” Mrs. Baldwin brought up the rear, shaking her head and dusting her hands on her apron. “They have three godmothers and these are the two who always show up.” She held out her arms to Nia, who pushed her face against her mother’s before going into the other woman’s arms.

  “You are two quick little monkeys, but you’re my little monkeys,” Mrs. Baldwin said softly, holding out a hand to Jabari, who looked at his father and then slid to the floor and walked over to take the housekeeper’s hand. “Now, let’s go finish those cookies before Santa Claus gets here, because he is coming and he’ll be hungry. And you two,” her nod was for Connie and Jeannette, “stay out here and share your Christmas spirit.”

  She huffed, and, for a heartbeat, no one said anything.

  Jeannette watched her leave the room with the children. “Guess I know where we’re not wanted.”

  Connie looked around, the expression on her face clear: Is it just me?

  Rissa caught her head shaking when she looked at Marlea and AJ. They stood with eyes on each other and lips pressed together, trying not to laugh, but when Dench walked into the room fresh from his shower, they couldn’t help themselves.

  “What’s up?” Freshly showered, his eyes were heavy lidded and his smile was slow when he looked at them, but it grew wider and more inviting when his eyes fell on his wife. Shifting his hips and broad shoulders, he shoved a hand into his pocket and waited.

  Marlea pressed two fingers to her lip and AJ’s smile grew casual and sexy. “Kids.”

  “You didn’t hear them?” Jeannette grunted when Connie’s elbow nudged her.

  “It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to hear kids,” Dench said, his eyes collecting a suddenly blushing Rissa. “I guess they’re excited.”

  “And they’re not the only ones,” Marlea muttered. Connie and Jeannette watched Dench watch his wife and hid smiles behind their hands. “Yeah,” Marlea finished. “Kids.”

  Dench nodded as if the one word answered all his questions. “You want to help me grab the tree, AJ?” Opening the French doors leading to the terrace, Dench led the way into the cold night and, between them, Dench and AJ hauled the twelve-foot spruce into the house while Rissa signaled the other three women to follow her down the hall.

  “Guess you’re glad to have Dench home, huh?”

  “Always. This big house is lonely when he’s away.” Rissa’s hand seemed to tremble slightly when she reached for the wall panel.

  “How about that big bed?” Jeannette danced away from Connie’s swatting hand.

  “You need to stay out of grown folks’ business.” A quick and delicate flush blossomed along the column of Rissa’s throat and climbed to her cheeks.

  “Guess she told you.” Connie folded her arms and looked totally self-righteous.

  Turning, Rissa opened a closet door and hauled out a series of marked boxes. “Okay, now these are the special decorations, the ones my mother gave me from when AJ and I were growing up, so we have to be careful.”

  “Yeah, ’cause they’re old,” Marlea whispered a little too loudly. The nurses snickered.

  Rissa didn’t miss a beat. “No, those were the ones she gave to you and AJ—from his childhood. These are newer—from my childhood.” She cheerfully placed a box in Marlea’s hands and ignored her when she stuck out her tongue. Connie and Jeannette looked at each other, snickered again and stepped back as Rissa led the way back down the hall.

  Humming “Jingle Bells,” Jeannette set her box down and looked toward the kitchen, sniffing. “Those cookies sure smell good.”

  “Forget about ’em, you’ve tortured those children enough for one night.” Connie opened a box labeled LIGHTS. “What you need to do is sit your Santa-slandering, cookie-lovin’ self down and help me untangle these lights.”

  Chastened, Jeannette dropped her chubby body to the floor beside her friend.

  “So that leaves you to help me grab the other stuff from the library.” Rissa gave Marlea a nudge with her hip when the door to the garage opened and closed again. Dench and AJ emerged with ladders over their shoulders.

  Turning quickly, Marlea managed to hook her arm through Rissa’s, towing her down the hall. “So, what did he say when you told him?”

  “I haven’t told him yet, so you haven’t won.”

  “Uh-huh, I saw how he looked at you, how he keeps looking at you. What happened? He got through the door, you got him in bed, and then you told him, didn’t you? I mean, you have every right…but we had a bet.”

  “I didn’t tell him, okay?” Refusing to face her, Rissa grabbed bags and loaded Marlea’s arms. “Take them and go,” she ordered, relieved when Marlea went. Following, trying to hum along with the music filling her house, Rissa prayed for an interruption, something to get Marlea off her trail.

  “Raydeer claw!” Nia charged into the living room with Mrs. Baldwin in pursuit. “Raydeer claw!”

  High on ladders, Dench and AJ looked down. “What is she saying?”

  “Dude, that’s your daughter.”

  AJ sent a dark look at Dench, then watched his happy daughter wade through a swath of tinsel toward her mother. “Raydeer claw, Mama!” Holding a frosted cookie in each hand, she graciously offered one to her mother.

  Marlea looked from her daughter to Mrs. Baldwin. “Raydeer claw?”

  Taking a second to straighten her snowflake etched sweater, Mrs. Baldwin laced her fingers in front of her and nodded. “Reindeer claws,” she enunciated clearly. “The cookies are called reindeer claws. See the shape right there? Jabari fell asleep and I made those for her.” Near her knees, Nia jogged in place and held onto her cookies.

  “Did you say thank you to Mrs. Baldwin?” Nia nodded happily. Marlea bent to inspect the cookie Nia was trying to fit into her mouth. Smiling, she broke the treat in two, gave the child the smaller portion and folded the rest into a napkin. Aware of the reduction in size, Nia stopped jogging, but was more than ready to follow Mrs. Baldwin back to the kitchen. Connie and Jeannette tagged along, promising to bring a plate back.

  “Bet they won’t. They’ll get in my kitchen, start sampling those cookies, and it’ll be all over for the rest of us.”

  “Speaking of bets…” Marlea stuffed the napkin into her pocket and faced Rissa over an open bag. “The night is young, and I’m going to keep my eye on you.”

  “Over a silly bet? Girl, it is not that serious.”

  “Silly or not, you made the bet and I intend to collect on it.”

  “I know you’re a teacher and they don’t make a mint, but I thought my brother made a little bit of money. Why are you trying to hold me up for a hundred bucks?”

  “You told.” Marlea looked wise. “I knew you would.”

  “Did not,” Rissa hissed back.

  “Told what?” Climbing down from their ladders, AJ and Dench looked curious.

  “Nothing,” Marlea and Rissa said together.

  “And you’ve just got to know that that means something,” Dench said softly.

  “I actually forgot to tell,” Rissa said quickly. Marlea’s neck gave a satisfying snap when she twisted to face her. Calmly, Rissa dug deep into one of the bags and pulled out a red beaded garland. “Mom called as I was coming in this afternoon.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, AJ. She’s fine, loving Greece, but she’s not going to make it tonight or tomorrow. Something about missing a plane and being stranded on Mykonos and not getting home for another week.”

  “Sounds like ‘something’ means ‘someone.’ ” AJ grabbed a bundle of lights and handed one to Dench. “Does ‘something’ have a name?”

  Dench slung his lights over his shoulder and swung a long leg onto the ladder. Climbing, he looked over at AJ. “Dude, you’re wrong for that.”

  “Maybe.” AJ stepped up on his own ladder and began to anchor the lights on the tree. “But I’m not the one sitting on an island in the Aegean sipp
ing drinks with ‘something.’ ”

  “Hey, your mother is an attractive woman.” Dench reached around the tree, exchanged light bundles with AJ, and moved down a step on the ladder. “She’s done all she needs to do with you and Rissa, she’s a widow, and in good health. She deserves some fun.”

  “Even if it is with ‘something.’ ” Boxes of glass bulbs came out of Rissa’s bags. She stole a glance at her watch. Dang. Only eight-fifteen and I can feel Marlea watching me like a hawk, just lying in wait, trying to make me confess.

  Marlea looped small wire hangers into a dozen glass ornaments. “I’ll know if you cheat.”

  “I’m married to the sexy man on the ladder over there, I don’t have to cheat,” Rissa hissed, trying to keep her voice low. “What do you think of these?”

  “Love them.” Marlea reached to hold a pair of the beautifully crafted African kings in her hand. Turning one, admiring the real silk of his purple and gold robes and turban, she sighed. “Maybe next year, when Nia is a little older, something like this will stand a chance at our house.”

  “A little problem I can’t wait to have.”

  Marlea looked up. “You really didn’t tell him?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “Hmm. AJ said…”

  “You told,” Rissa gasped. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “All that about me telling, and you told!”

  Marlea dropped the tiny king and clapped her hands over her mouth. Horrified, her eyes went to AJ and Dench—both apparently oblivious. “He guessed, sort of, but I never confirmed it! Rissa, I didn’t think…”

  “Damned straight, you didn’t think.” She eyed her brother closely, then snapped her attention back to Marlea. “No wonder he’s been watching me since he came through the door.”

  “He was watching to see if you two could survive what you’d obviously started—him being half naked, and you looking like you needed a cigarette.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject.” Rissa struggled to keep her low voice from growing shrill. “What if he said something to Dench while we were out of the room?”

 

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