Wildest Dreams

by Melody Grace

  He finally came up for air, his tawny hair ruffled. “We should have a safe word.”

  Now her eyebrows raised.

  “For tickling,” he clarified, mock serious. “Why, what did you think I meant?”

  “Nothing . . .” Paige paused. “But I have always wondered . . .” Her eyes went to the silk scarves she had draped over her clothing rail, decorative and full of possibilities.

  Declan followed her gaze. “Really?” His voice became strangled.

  Paige flushed, but she gave a shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t really tried much, as you can probably tell.”

  Declan twisted to look at her. “Are you kidding?” His voice dropped, low and intimate as he whispered in her ear. “You drive me crazy, Paige. Everything you do . . . I just about lose my mind.”

  Her stomach turned another somersault, and Paige shivered. “Me too,” she replied breathlessly. She reached for him, sliding her hands over his chest, but Declan pulled away.

  * * *

  “Hold that thought,” he said, dropping a light kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to need some refueling before I can rock your world again.”

  Paige giggled and slid out of bed. She grabbed her favorite robe, a light, gauzy thing, and padded over to the kitchen. “You’re lucky this place is so small,” she said, opening the refrigerator. “I’ve got snacks close to hand.”

  “Mmm, what do we have?” Declan came up behind her, slipping his hands around her and stroking through the silky fabric. Paige sank back happily against him, lit by the glow of the fridge light.

  Who was she kidding? He could have anything he wanted.

  “Cheese, bread . . .” Declan peered over her shoulder at the contents.

  Food. Right. That.

  “Sorry, I haven’t really stocked up yet,” she apologized.

  Declan chuckled. “But I’m guessing you have about ten different kinds of silk downstairs.”

  “Twenty-two, actually,” Paige corrected him with a grin. “Priorities.”

  “Well, lucky for you, I’m a professional snack-wrangler.” Declan winked. He grabbed a couple of items and then looked around. “Knife?”

  “That drawer,” Paige pointed, and then perched on one of the chairs, watching him get to work.

  A man who drove her wild with pleasure, and then cooked after?

  Be still my heart.

  Declan sliced a loaf of bread and slid a wedge of butter into a frying pan. “Grilled cheese is one of the major food groups,” he told her, licking butter from his thumb. Paige remembered that night in the kitchen, and how she’d figured he could make any food sexy.

  She was right. Grilled cheese was downright sensual when it was being made by a six-foot-two hunk of Australian muscle.

  Especially now that she knew what those skilled hands could do . . .

  Declan expertly assembled the sandwiches and set them in the pan to fry. “That smells amazing,” Paige sighed, and her stomach let out a rumble of agreement. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but now with the scent of butter wafting in the air, her mouth was watering.

  “The trick is to get the bread crispy, and the cheese extra-gooey,” Declan grinned.

  Gooey, like her insides, every time he smiled at her?

  Paige stifled another laugh. She should just listen to herself; clearly, all this hot sex was going straight to her head.

  Declan flipped the sandwiches onto a plate and cut them in half. “Voila, mademoiselle,” he said, in a fake French accent. He poured them both a glass of milk and joined her at the tiny table. Paige watched him take a massive bite, and then a gulp of milk, leaving a white moustache over his top lip. She smiled. He could switch from devastating seducer to goofy guy in a heartbeat, but that was the same for her, she supposed. One minute, she felt shy and self-conscious even wearing a low-cut dress, and the next . . . ?

  She was baring herself to him, bold as daylight, feeling powerful and free.

  There was just something about him that made her feel reckless, like no matter how brazen she wanted to be, she was still safe with him.

  No judgment, no shame.

  “Not hungry?” Declan nodded to her untouched plate, and Paige realized she’d been miles away. He reached to steal her sandwich, and she batted his hand away, laughing.

  “Hands off, big guy.” She took a bite, savoring the melted cheese. “Mmm,” she murmured, amazed. “How come my grilled cheese never tastes this good?”

  “Because I used a whole half-stick of butter, and you probably just give it a spritz of that fat-free oil.”

  Busted.

  Declan chuckled. “Everything tastes better with butter, it’s one of my cardinal rules for life,” he said, demolishing the other half of his sandwich.

  “Oh yes? What are the other rules?” Paige asked.

  “Life’s too short for cheap whiskey,” Declan counted it off. “And . . .” He stopped.

  “What?”

  “Just the third rule.” Declan gave her a wry smile. “Good girls are off limits. But I guess I blew that one to pieces.”

  Paige arched an eyebrow. “I’m a good girl?”

  “You know you are,” Declan replied, cheese dripping down his chin. “At least, until I bring out the chocolate.” His gaze turned smoldering, and Paige laughed, but inside, his words caught.

  She knew that was how some people saw her, and she even felt that way herself sometimes. After all, her near-death experience and shaking things up with her move and opening the store—that was all to break the pattern. Start doing what she wanted, instead of what she thought she should. But still, knowing that Declan had seen her that way, too . . .

  “Is that why you pursued me?” she asked slowly. “Because I was supposed to be off limits. The thrill of the chase?”

  Declan looked confused. “No, it’s why I tried to stay away. But I couldn’t,” he added, getting up and circling the table. He pulled her to her feet, her body pressed against him. “You were too damn tempting,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes. “So in the end, I figured to hell with the rules. You are just . . . undeniable.”

  She looked deeper, for a hint of his playful humor, but she saw nothing but sincerity, and a raw, real desire that took her breath away.

  Paige’s heart caught.

  She didn’t know what it meant. They’d figure that part out later. For now, she had this incredible man in her bedroom, and she wasn’t going to waste a second. She tugged him back towards the bed.

  “You’re not finishing your snack?” he asked, already smiling playfully.

  “Oh, I will,” Paige promised, reaching for one of those scarves. “For now, I think I want to try something new . . .”

  * * *

  When Paige woke the next morning, for a strange, terrible moment, she thought she was back in Boston again. That Provincetown and her shop were just a hazy dream, and the male body sprawled beside her in the sheets was Doug, ready to reach for his alarm and go take a brisk shower.

  Her heart sank.

  Then she felt hands slide around her body with a soft purpose that betrayed their skill. “Morning, sunshine,” an Australian accent whispered in her ear.

  Declan.

  Paige smiled and relaxed back against him. “Good morning,” she said, yawning happily. The sleep cleared from her mind, and she could see sunshine pouring through the open drapes, and a wide expanse of blue sky.

  She rolled to face him, lying inches away. Declan’s lashes were tinted gold, and he had a dusting of freckles on his tanned face. “So, what’s in store for you today?” he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “Can I tempt you to stay in bed?”

  Paige stretched. “I should really get to the shop . . .” she said, but she didn’t mean it, not with this marvel of a man in bed beside her. She was conscious of her morning breath and bare face, but Declan caught her closer, kissing her deeply, and she surrendered to the rush. His hands slipped beneath the covers, and she sighed in anticipation—<
br />
  Her phone began to buzz.

  “Leave it,” he murmured, burying his face against her neck. He nuzzled the spot right beneath her ear that turned her to jelly, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself, but—

  Buzzz Buzzz.

  “Sorry!” Paige struggled upright and grabbed it from the nightstand. “It’s one of my old clients,” she exclaimed, reading the message. “She’s going to be in town this morning and wants a fitting. In thirty minutes?!” Her voice rose.

  “So, I can be quick,” Declan grinned, reaching for her again, but Paige wriggled out of his embrace, laughing.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, climbing out of bed, “but I invited her out, and I need all the commissions I can get. Last time, she ordered five different sets, with matching robes, too,” she said excitedly. “It could be a huge order.”

  “Raincheck then.” Declan hauled himself out of bed and stretched, yawning. His T-shirt rose up, revealing a tanned expense of stomach, and Paige immediately regretted her decision to go. “What are you up to later?”

  “Just work. And then I’m meeting Eliza, we’re all going to meet Poppy’s new baby, kind of a girls’ night in.”

  “I get off after eleven at the restaurant,” Declan said casually, sauntering closer. “If you want to stop by my place . . .”

  She arched an eyebrow. “The bachelor pad?”

  “How do you know it’s a bachelor pad?” Declan protested.

  She waited. He grinned. “OK, but I have clean sheets and a stocked fridge.”

  “Say no more.” Paige leaned in and kissed him lightly. “I’ll see if I can swing by.”

  Declan tried to deepen the kiss, but Paige knew his tricks now. If he put those hands on her again . . . she’d never make it out of bed. She ducked away and headed for the shower. “See you later,” she called behind her, and heard his chuckle follow her into the bathroom.

  It was time for a cold shower.

  * * *

  Paige’s day sped by in a blur. Her old client, Ingrid, was an older wealthy woman who had just started a whirlwind relationship. She wanted half a dozen new lingerie sets, with matching robes and accessories, all in the finest—most expensive—silks and satins. “No expense spared,” Ingrid had insisted, her usual chic icy persona now bright and enthusiastic. “I want to show him there’s still some fire in the old girl yet.”

  Paige laughed. “We can do that,” she promised, taking new measurements. “How about the cream and the dusky rose?”

  “How about electric blue and black lace?” Ingrid shot back, and Paige smiled wider.

  “Why not?”

  After Ingrid left, Paige spent the rest of the day getting started on the designs. Her style usually went more romantic, with softer colors and wispy textures, but if bold and brash was what her client wanted, then she’d find a way to make it beautiful, too. Peacock shades with iridescent hues, maybe, with daring key-hole cutouts and invisible flattering lifts . . . She lost herself in the sketching and fabric samples, and before Paige knew it, it was already after six. She grabbed her jacket and the box of baby clothes samples she’d already set aside, and jumped in her car, heading down the coast to Sweetbriar Cove.

  She picked up Eliza from outside the Town Hall, where her newspaper office was tucked away in the attic, and then drove on to Poppy’s. “So what’s the hot news from around town?” she asked, turning down the shore road.

  Eliza smiled. “Well, there’s a big scandal brewing over JamFest.”

  “What?”

  “The festival next week. It’s a music-slash-fruit preserve celebration—”

  “Of course it is.” Paige laughed. She forgot sometimes that they loved to celebrate in Sweetbriar Cove and staged a big festival or event every month.

  “So, currently Franny is at war with Gordon over the jam competition,” Eliza continued. “Because traditionally, it’s been only jams and jellies allowed, but he just took up bee-keeping, and is insisting that his honey be allowed to compete, too.”

  “The scandal!” Paige exclaimed, grinning.

  “You say that now, but it’s turned into a whole big deal,” Eliza sighed. “Since technically, honey derives from plant nectar, Gordon is arguing there’s no difference between it and Franny’s famous geranium rose jams. The town is divided. Jam jars at dawn!”

  “Will they have to call a special election?” Paige asked as she pulled up outside Poppy’s beach house. “Duel it out over the double burners?”

  Eliza laughed. “I think it’ll work out. Summer’s mom is coming to film an episode of her cooking show during the festival, so she’s going to have them both on to show off their wares.”

  “And another bitter feud is averted,” Paige quipped. They got out and walked to the front door. “The drama in this town never ends.”

  “Speaking of . . .” Her sister gave Paige a sideways glance. “I thought your date with Declan was a bust. But now I hear you guys are still seeing each other?”

  “I never said it was a bust,” Paige replied lightly, just as Mackenzie opened the door.

  “Hey! Perfect timing,” she greeted them. “The munchkin just went down for a nap, and she’s so cute, I think my ovaries might explode.”

  She ushered them in, back to the living room, where floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the ocean. Poppy was sitting on the couch, cradling a swaddled baby in her arms.

  “Hi,” Paige whispered loudly, not wanting to wake her. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you, and don’t worry,” Poppy replied in a normal voice. “She’s out for the count. I still can’t get her to go down between two and five a.m. though, so I guess afternoon naps are our thing.”

  “Ouch.” Eliza looked sympathetic. “It’s a good thing she’s so cute.”

  “Definitely,” Poppy agreed, looking tired but happy.

  Paige crowded around to admire the new arrival, who was indeed cute, and snoozing away. “What’s her name?” she asked, reaching to gently touch her chubby cheeks.

  “Emma,” Poppy replied, rocking her. “I thought about keeping the flower tradition going with Daisy or Violet, but I figured I wouldn’t be so cruel.”

  “That’s a lovely name.” Paige smiled. “I love kids, so if you ever need a babysitter . . .”

  “Seriously?” Poppy lit up. “Don’t tease. I mean, we’re taking it easy for now, but in a few weeks, I’ll be calling you 24/7.”

  “Feel free,” Paige insisted.

  “She was always the best babysitter in town,” Eliza agreed. “Parents lined up to get her, she had a lock on the whole neighborhood.”

  “Then count me in,” Poppy declared. “Here, you take her. I need the bathroom.” She passed Emma to Paige, and then eased to a standing position. “I thought my weak bladder would be done after the pregnancy, but nope.” She waddled out, leaving Paige awestruck by the tiny baby in her arms.

  “Who wants tea?” Mackenzie asked, as Brooke and Summer arrived, toting gift baskets. “Yes please!”

  “I brought cake,” Summer added. They bustled around, setting out food and pulling up chairs, but Paige was still focused on baby Emma, and her soft weight in her arms. Her skin was softer than reams of satin, eyelashes fluttering gently.

  Paige’s heart turned over in her chest.

  “I know that look.” Poppy settled beside her with a smile. “She’s pretty spectacular, huh?”

  Paige nodded and moved to pass her back. “No, you keep her. I need cake.” She loaded up a plate. “You want kids?”

  “Three,” Eliza answered for her. “Two boys and a girl, isn’t that right?”

  Paige flushed. “I don’t mind. I’ve always wanted a big family,” she added. “But, maybe it won’t happen. As my mom keeps telling me, my eggs aren’t getting any younger.”

  Poppy made a scornful noise. “You’ve got plenty of time. This one didn’t even wait until I was hitched. Poor Cooper,” she added with a smile. “He was still working up the nerve to propose and I
landed this bombshell.”

  “Pfht,” Mackenzie made a noise. “He just needs a nudge sometimes. The man can build a house from scratch in a few months but takes forever to make real decisions.”

  “He restores old houses all over the Cape. It’s how they met,” Eliza explained. “Poppy was staying next door, trying to write a novel, and he was keeping her up with all the noise.”

  “That’s so romantic,” Paige said, imagining it.

  Poppy laughed. “Not exactly. We were fighting cats and dogs for a while.”

  “We could all see they were meant to be from the start,” Mackenzie interrupted. “But it took them a while longer to figure it out.”

  Baby Emma gurgled, and they all paused to admire her.

  “So, come on, how is motherhood really?” Summer asked. “You look tired.”

  “I feel tired,” Poppy replied. “And those fat little cheeks have been sucking my nipples raw.” She took a sip of tea, then looked around. “Too much information? Sorry.”

  “Please, TMI all you want,” Eliza insisted. “I need to know the realities, all our mom will do is talk about what a magical time it was.”

  “A special bond beyond words,” Paige agreed.

  Poppy snorted with laughter. “Sure, it’s magical. It’s also exhausting and terrifying, too. Poor Cooper is convinced he’s going to hug her too hard and squish something important. He’s treating her like a china doll, it’s pretty cute,” she admitted. “I’ve got him getting up in the night, too. He just brings her over and latches her on while I doze.”

  “Teamwork!” Mackenzie applauded.

  Poppy laughed. “Which reminds me, thank you for the gifts.” Her expression turned teary. “You all pitching in has made such a difference. Even Declan dropped by a ton of food. He’s got us set for weeks!”

  Declan had sent food? Paige smiled at that. He liked to make out that he was a carefree bachelor, but he still had some community spirit in him, after all.

  Brooke caught her eye. “How is Declan?” she asked Paige in an innocent voice.

  The other women’s heads whipped around. “Wait, Declan?” Mackenzie asked, her voice rising. “Since when?”