Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (47 page)

Entering the master bedroom where Phoebe slept peacefully, Charlie took a moment to admire the woman he so deeply loved. Her pale blonde hair spread on the pillow, her lashes brushing her cheeks, and her pink lips parted slightly as she snored softly. She slept like an old lady in church, except for the few times she woke every night to go the bathroom.

Phoebe was just starting her sixth month of pregnancy and horribly self-conscious about today. While she’d finished her internship, Valerie had been wonderful about letting Phoebe wear clothes that were not quite professional (i.e. yoga pants with long shirts) to hide her growing belly. But today was the first day of school at New York University. She wasn’t so much concerned about the other students, but more worried that the teachers might think…that she’d be viewed as a potential teen-mom dropout, and not be taken seriously.

Charlie, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to get to class. His orientation had been “the bomb” and he was super excited about his production class. He was most excited that his teachers at orientation already read him the riot act and let him know in no-uncertain terms, that they expected quality work from Charlie. That his celebrity status meant nothing inside the walls of NYU. He was a dime a dozen here, following the likes of Woody Allen, Oliver Stone, and Martin Scorcese. Charlie was also excited to be in one class with fellow actor, James Franco.

To add to the stress of Phoebe’s day, she had an interview with a prospective adoptive couple this evening. Charlie was unable to make it, but her mother would go with her.

“Wakey-wakey,” Charlie said, noting the time on the clock and that classes started in just less than two hours.

Phoebe stretched and moaned. Charlie clenched his jaw, willing the growing boner that came every time he heard her moan, to go away. No time for morning sex. If he made Phoebe late, he’d never hear the end of it. Slowly he walked to the side of the bed.

“I shouldn’t have slept here last night. Your bed is too comfy.”

“Class starts in about two hours,” Charlie laughed, as he stood next to the bed.

“I don’t want to go to school. Not to mention that I was having the most wonderful dream,” Phoebe pouted, sticking her lower lip out and peeking coyly at Charlie from under her lashes. Spying the tray of breakfast she sat up. “For me?” Charlie nodded and smiled. “You are so sweet. Thank you.”

Charlie set the tray over her legs, then went and sat on the other side of the bed. Phoebe’s eyes swept over the spread and she smiled brightly when they saw the sunflower. Taking a sip of the fresh squeezed juice, she moaned again. Charlie shoved his hand through his hair, which had grown back nicely, although not as long yet as he’d hoped, in the past 4 months, and gave a tug.

“You have to stop moaning, Sweets. I will not be responsible for your being late to class on your first day.”

Phoebe shot Charlie a devilish look and cut a bite of pancakes. She lifted the bite to her mouth and closed her lips around the fork. “Mmmmmmmm,” she moaned before darting her pink tongue out onto her lip to collect a little drop of syrup.

Charlie swallowed hard. “You are not playing fair, PhoebeFair.”

“Woman’s prerogative,” she mumbled through the bite of breakfast.

Charlie smiled at her cheekiness. “Ready for classes?”

Phoebe shrugged. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” she said, forking another bite, before her eye caught sight of the box tucked under the head of the sunflower. “What’s this?” she asked as she slipped it from under the flower. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed. “Thank you!” She leaned over and kissed Charlie.

Charlie lifted the box from her hand, then took that hand in his. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her soft, delicate hand, and gazed into her peaceful, clear-water blue eyes, and was flooded with nerves—but the good kind. With a quick intake of breath, and then release, he started. “Phoebe. I love you more than I thought was possible. You really
do
make me a better person. From the first time I met you, you wouldn’t take my shit. And very soon after, I resolved to be a man worthy to stand beside you. I will be there with you for the long haul. And I want more than anything for you to be with me, all the days to come.”

With a flick of the thumb, the lid flipped up revealing something that made the tears welling up in Phoebe’s eyes spill onto her cheeks. Her face was an awkward mix of happiness and dread. She started to tremble and choked out, “Charlie, I—”

“This
isn’t
an engagement ring,” he said, taking the custom made ring out of the box. That confession let Phoebe relax just a little. Last month at Jenny and Ankur’s wedding, she was practically petrified that Charlie was going to launch into some grand proposal with hundreds of eyes looking on them. But to her relief, he didn’t.

Charlie took Phoebe’s right hand and slid the ring onto the fourth finger. It glittered in the morning sun that washed over the bed. The ring was a perfect, one-carat princess-cut blue diamond as the center stone, with sapphire gemstones, cut in the shape of a heart on each side, hugging the lighter blue gem. All set in platinum, allowing the blues to shine.

“I know you want to stand on your own feet. It’s one of the many things I love about you. You are strong and gutsy. And I know you are nervous about the next few months. For now this ring represents my
promise
to you to be at your side. For the good as well as the bad. I’ve told you before…I’m not going anywhere. Anytime you need strength and I’m not there for you, just look here, and know that I am with you, heart and soul.”

Phoebe tore her eyes from the gorgeous ring on her hand and looked into Charlie’s eyes; the violet-blues she often found herself lost in. She inhaled deeply for fear of losing it right then, but taking in his scent, the soap, the man, and even a touch of licorice, and calmed. Charlie directed her attention back to the ring.

“The center stone reminds me of the color of your eyes. And your eyes are an amazing window into your beautiful soul. The darker blue heart-shaped sapphires, are the color of my eyes, and I want you to know I will always look out for you, with all my heart.”

“I love you, Charles Dillinger Smith.”

“And I love you, Phoebe Quinn Fairchild. And when you’re ready, we can move this ring to your left hand, and call it an engagement ring. Or maybe, I’ll just buy you a new one. But even if we never say I do, you always have my promise.”

If this was a dream, neither one wanted to wake from it.

Chase leaned and kissed the few tears on Phoebe’s cheeks. His lips made their way to hers and he kissed gently, but Phoebe wasn’t having any of that. She gripped the back of his head, weaving her fingers in the length that was back, and eagerly thrust her tongue into his mouth, desperate to have as much of this man as she could. Charlie moved the tray to the floor, then let Phoebe pull him on top of her.

~~~THE END~~~

Dear Readers & Dreamers….

Chasing the Dream wasn’t planned. Ditching the Dream was going to be a one and done story, a challenge from two beautiful Indie Authors. But you wanted to know more about Jack, and now, five books (maybe a 6th if she starts talking) are planned for the series. I hope you enjoy(ed) this addition to The Dream Series. It’s a bit of a departure from the first two books in the series, with younger characters. It was fun for me to go back to my younger years.

This is my third book and I still have no idea how to start this section. There are so many people that have been unbelievably supportive and encouraging.

I will start with you Readers and Dreamers. The messages you send, the reviews you post, your enthusiasm for the books already published and those to come are what light my fire to put the characters running through my head onto “paper.”

My pre-readers…The amazing ladies that let me bounce ideas off of them, and read through my drafts—confirming what I usually know, but sometimes inspiring the
most amazing
adjustments. In alphabetical order: Erin M., Jennifer G., Mary W., and Rebecca G. were the first to get their hands on it. Thank you for your patience and my neuroses and assuring me that it was okay to deviate from my original outline. Brittany A., Jade E., Jess B., Kim K., Rocki R., Stephanie S., Vanessa S. your pre-publish feedback was, as always, invaluable.

Professionally, my editors and proofreaders, Valerie C. and Samantha W. THANK YOU for rescuing my tired eyes – catching the small things that are never very small.

And
thank you
times
infinity
…I need to thank Stephanie S. My PA, cheerleader, PosterMaker, ‘Therapist,’ Sounding Board, and Eagle Eye—Stephanie S.

To the bloggers that have been so generous with their reading and reviews and sharing my books on their websites and Facebook pages. Literally hundreds to list, and the list grows daily. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My cover artist, Kari Ayasha from Cover to Cover Designs. I love that you see the abstract vision for the series and make it shine.

Paul Salvette and his quick formatting and style.

And last but SO not least…Thank you, Marcus, Ian, and Taylor (and my dog Coco). So patient with me (and getting around to cleaning those bathrooms and cooking dinners), so proud of me, and so encouraging for my books. (I feel I should note, that Marcus, my husband of nearly 21 years is the only one that reads my books. My teens have not ;) )

Warmest Regards,

XO-Isabelle Peterson-XO

The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status and trademark owners of the following word-marks mentioned in this work of fiction and my no means claims any ownership:

ABC; AMC Theaters; Atlanta Braves; Atlantic Grill; Avenue Q; Belvedere Vodka; Benny and Joon; Bergdorf-Goodman’s; Better Than Me (by Emme Burton); Betty Crocker; Bugs Bunny; Catching Fire; CBS; Chrysler Building; Darius Rucker (This); Delta Airlines; Doc Martins; Dolce & Gabana, The One; Ed Sheeran; Ellen Degeneres; Facebook; FiFi LaFume; (Ford) Thunderbird; George Clooney; Grand Central Terminal; Grease; Good & Plenty; Good Morning America; Goose Island Beer; Gossip Girl; The Great Gatsby; Hootie and the Blowfish; Hunger Games; iPad Mini; iPhone; James Dean; James Franco; Jeep Wrangler; Jennifer Lawrence; Jimmy Fallon; Jimmy Kimmel; Kindle; Late Night with Jimmy Fallon; Law and Order: SVU; Lincoln Town Car; Live! With Kelly and Michael; Loeb Boat House; Mario Lopez; Martin Scorcese; Metropolitan Museum of Art (The Met); Michelangelo’s David; Michael Clayton; Midas; NBC; Nickelodeon; Oliver Stone; P.F. Chang’s; The Proclaimers (I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)); Rockefeller Center; Rolling Rock Beer; The Roots; Sandra Dee; Serena Vander Woodsen; Slumdog Millionaire; San Francisco Giants; Stan’s; TBS; TGI Friday’s; (Toyota) Prius; TSA; The Tonight Show with Jay Leno; Twitter; Union Square; Vanilla Flower by Henri Bendel; Vine Video; Walk the Line (by Johnny Cash); Woody Allen; Yankees

Isabelle Peterson lives near New York City with her husband of 21 years, two teens and one dog. She loves to travel, and her favorite way to vacation is on a cruise ship. She loves new country music, coffee, wine, and a good book.

Isabelle has always been a creative person. She loves to read good stories and write them, too. Novels are new to her as she’s been writing for film and TV for the past 8 years. She loves to come up with stories about people she’s met, and those she hasn’t. It seems that there are a hundred or so people running around inside of her head with stories to tell. Her husband asked her one day when she was telling him about another story that popped into her mind, “When do you turn it off?” to which she replied, “Never.”

You can find Isabelle at:

www.isabellepeterson.com

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