Dream of You (19 page)

Unable to sleep, Kristin went for a vigorous
walk. Not where she'd walked with Rob—she wasn't a masochist—but a
brisk trek up and down the hills of her neighborhood, hoping she'd
exhaust herself into slumber.

It was a vain hope.

And the walk reminded her of Rob anyway. She
missed him, which was crazy because she'd never had him.

"Stupid," she muttered at herself, huddling
in her sweatshirt. She should have kept her eye on the ball and
just asked him to have sex with her a couple times. By thinking
they could have more, she'd lost out on everything.

The sad thing: she was more upset about
losing Rob than she was about not having a baby. Only she hadn't
lost Rob, because her relationship with Rob had been only in her
head.

The sadder thing: if she'd had to choose
between Rob and a baby, she'd have picked him.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and
apologized to her potential child. Obviously, her hormones had
gotten the best of her, and she was going crazy. What other excuse
did she have for picking a random man to father her baby and then
falling in love with him instead?

Because that was the craziest part of the
whole situation: she'd fallen in love with Robert Cray.

"Stupid, stupid,
stupid
," she cursed
herself as she marched back uphill toward her flat. She barely knew
the man.

Except she did know him. She knew that he
worked hard and was responsible. She knew he had a big enough heart
to take in a stray mutt and hire someone to give her a hand up in
the world. She knew he liked her. She knew he kissed like the world
was ending, and that when he focused on a woman, for that moment
she was the sum total of his world.

She wished she could have been that woman
forever.

As she neared her place, she realized there
was something blocking the gate.

Not something—some
one
. She squinted,
trying to see in the darkness. She really needed to have a porch
light installed.

Then she realized it was Rob. He sat on the
top step of the path, in front of the gate, hands steepled in front
of him. He was dressed more casually than she'd ever seen him, in a
windbreaker and jeans. Chanel sat primly at his feet.

She stopped in place, startled out of motion.
Swallowing the resurgence of regret and sudden hope, she slowly
went up the walkway and stopped in front of him.

He stood as she approached. "I haven't seen
you at the café in a while."

Not what she expected, but she went along
with it. "I've been working in the afternoons."

"Because of me?" he asked solemnly.

Of course, because of him. But she snorted.
"Don't flatter yourself."

Chanel barked once.

She reached down to pat the dog's back. God,
she'd even missed the mutt.

Rob studied her. Then he surprised her by
saying, "You couldn't sleep, either?"

"I was just getting exercise," she lied as
she straightened. He didn't need to know how crazy she was, mooning
over a man who'd never promised her anything beyond a paycheck.
"What are you doing here?"

"We didn't finish our conversation. You ran
out on me."

"It took you this long to act on it?"

"It took me this long to get over feeling
like I'd been played for a fool."

She pretended not to understand what he was
saying. "Don't blame this on me. I removed myself from a situation
that was harmful to me."

"I'm harmful?" he asked with a frown.

To her heart, he was. "The potential is
definitely there."

"You're the one who lied."

"
What
?"

He nodded. "You misrepresented yourself to
me. I thought you were a starving woman, down on her luck. Why do
you think I wanted to give you work?"

"I know you want me to think you have a
bleeding heart, and the destitute woman appreciates your kindness,
but she didn't need it." She crossed her arms to keep from throwing
them around him and begging him to be hers.

"
You
led me to believe you were
destitute. I don't think you can fault me for wanting to see your
situation improved." He stepped right up to her. "I care about you.
I wanted to be your knight-in-shining-armor."

"I will
not
let you melt me," she
practically yelled at him.

"Is that a possibility?"

"Not any more. You lost your chance."

He shook his head. "I won't accept that
answer."

"Too bad, because I—"

He took her by the arms and drew her in for a
kiss.

She whimpered from the painful pleasure
filling her chest. Her heart hammered, a staccato drumming of both
optimism and desolation. She clutched the collar of his jacket,
trying to ground herself.

It was pointless. The moment his lips touched
hers she was lost.

He slowly brought the kiss in for a landing,
nuzzling her cheek and neck before saying, "In the past, I've been
with women who were princesses, women who sat back and expected me
to save them. I put myself in the same situation with you, but the
difference was I
wanted
to save you. Only you don't need
saving, and I realize I'd rather have a partner, someone who'll
hold her equal footing in the relationship."

"That's what I was offering you."

"I know that now."

"And you offered me a job." It still
stung.

"You seemed to really like the database work
you did. I wanted to give you something that'd make you happy."

"A baby would make me happy."

"Okay."

She glared at him. "That's not funny. Don't
joke with me. It's cruel."

"I'm not joking."

She stared him in the eye. He gazed back
solemnly, levelly, letting her see he was serious. Letting her see
everything he was offering.

Hope began to overtake the regret. "A baby
isn't all I want," she said carefully.

"I'll give you the moon."

Chanel barked, as if reinforcing the
offer.

Kristin smiled at the dog before returning
her attention to the man. "I just want you."

He kissed her again. "That's what I've been
trying to tell you. You already have me."

The doorbell buzzed at dawn.

Sam glanced at the time. Fine—it wasn't dawn,
but it was damn early, especially after a sleepless night.

He rolled out of bed, bleary-eyed with a
hollow feeling in his chest. None of that was new, at least not
since Lola had stopped seeing him.

He missed her. Bad.

She wasn't returning his calls. He'd even
gone and tried to see her, but she'd been out and she hadn't
answered the note he'd left her. She was all he thought about,
every minute of every day.

He loved her.

It was so obvious now. But he'd screwed up,
and she'd written him off. Which, frankly, annoyed the hell out of
him. If she was going to storm off every time he did something
stupid, they were going to have a rocky road ahead of them.

The buzzer sounded again, long and
insistent.

"I'm coming," he yelled as he scrounged for a
T-shirt.

"I got it, Daddy," Madison yelled back from
down the hall.

He heard her racing down the stairs. A
garbled conversation. The door slamming. The surprisingly loud
stomping of her feet on the stairs. "You've got a package,
Daddy."

He found her in the living room, hovering
over a box, Dirty Dancing playing in the background. "You're
watching that movie again?"

"I
love
it." She pointed at the
package. "That's for you."

"Who is it from?" he asked, picking up the
box. Heavy. He shook it, and something large shifted from one side
to the other. On the label, there was only his name and address—no
sender name or information.

Madison jumped up and down. "Just open
it."

He picked a corner of the packing tape and
ripped it all off. He opened the flaps and frowned at the
contents.

"Let me see." She moved the box so she could
peer inside. "That's from Lola!"

"One of her books." The book she'd been
working on, he'd bet. It was a thick stack of paper bound by a
rubber band. The cover sheet read:

Now and Forever:

Louise and Sawyer

By

Lola Carmichael

Was it done? He flipped through the first few
pages. Why had she sent it to him?

As if reading his mind, Madison said,
"Remember when I asked you if you could do something to get Lola
back, and you said that you'd tried but she wasn't meeting you
halfway?"

"Yeah."

"I think she's meeting you halfway."

"Maybe," he said, staring at the manuscript.
"I need coffee."

"I'll make it, Daddy. You sit here and read."
His daughter ran into the kitchen.

He could hear her pour beans and grind them.
Madison's coffee was better than his own. Whenever he asked her how
she made it so good, she just shrugged and said it must be because
she made it with love.

He adored that kid.

Pushing the throw blanket she'd been using
aside, he sat, propped his feet on the coffee table, and began to
read.

He barely noticed when Madison set a mug on
the table and sat down next to him to resume watching
Dirty
Dancing
. His coffee went cold. His back got stiff from not
moving. Madison drifted in and out of the living room without
disturbing him. His stomach grumbled with hunger. But he read
straight through, getting up once to go to the bathroom.

Louise and Sawyer were obviously he and Lola.
Sam recognized the fictionalized versions of some of their
conversations. He laughed at the banter, and he got hot at the sexy
parts.

Mostly, he remembered how great it was with
Lola. He
missed
her.
So bad
.

He read until he got to the last chapter,
which was blank—except for a handwritten note:

I don't know how the story ends. Do Louise
and Sawyer get together? I want them to, but I'm not sure how to
write the scene. Maybe you have ideas...

Actually he had no ideas, but he'd figure
something out—something worthy of a romance hero. He set the book
aside and hurried to shower. He had a heroine to woo. ASAP, because
their forever was on the line.

Sam and Madison stood in front of the mirror,
staring at his outfit. "I look gay," he said finally.

"No you don't." She frowned.

He tugged at the tight, short-sleeved black
shirt. It'd have looked okay if it hadn't been unbuttoned to his
navel. Add the tight black pants and leather jacket and he looked
like a gigolo. "Are you sure?"

"She totally loves
Dirty Dancing
, and
you look just like Johnny." She squinted at him. "Or maybe Johnny's
dad."

He scrubbed her head. "Gee. Thanks."

She giggled, ducking away from his reach.
Then she sobered, worrying her lip. "This is going to work, isn't
it?"

He lifted her chin. "You like Lola that
much?"

"I love her," she said with a child's
simplicity.

He nodded. He did too. "I'll win her
back."

"Don't forget the music, Daddy." She handed
him her iPod and the portable speaker setup from her room.

"Right." He grinned. "This is going to be
good. You ready to do this?"

"Let go get her back!" Madison high-fived him
as she marched out ahead of him.

On the way to Lola's, Madison pantomimed
Lola's part as Sam went over the plan again. They cheered each
other, high-fived some more, and generally whooped it up.

Until they arrived.

A worried silence settled in the car as they
stared up at her apartment building. The sign on the ground-level
store seemed to mock him:
Outta My Gourd
.

Damn straight, he was. He tugged at the shirt
again.

"Put on your sunglasses, Daddy." Madison
opened the door and got out.

"Right," he muttered, slipping them on. It
was foggy in Laurel Heights, and with the sunglasses it was like
night.

At Madison's urging, he set up the iPod and
speaker on the trunk of the car. He tested it to make sure it
worked and then gave Madison a thumbs-up.

Lifting her little chin and squaring her thin
shoulders, she marched to the building's intercom. He smiled at the
way she took her part in this so seriously. He remembered the way
she said she loved Lola, and his heart did a funny flop.

Madison pressed the button. There was a pause
and then the hiss of Lola answering. "Yes?"

His daughter inched close to the speaker and
yelled. "Lola!"

"Madison? Is that you?"

"Yes. I'm downstairs."

"I kind of guessed that since you're calling
me on my intercom."

Sam grinned at Lola's subtle sarcasm.

"What I don't understand," she continued, "is
why you're here."

"I need you," his daughter said, just like
they'd practiced.

"I'll be right down," Lola answered without
hesitation.

Madison turned around and pumped two fists in
the air. She ran over to him. "
Go
, Daddy."

When Lola rushed out of the building a moment
later, he was standing on the sidewalk, hand outstretched, waiting
for her.

She stumbled to a stop. "Sam? If you're here,
then why—"

Madison hit play, and "Time of My Life"
poured onto Sacramento Street.

Lola blinked at Madison, and then turned her
beautiful blue eyes onto him.

Sam stepped forward, his hand still out. "I
have an idea about how your story ends."

"Do you?"

He heard the hope and longing and love in her
voice, and a knot inside his chest unraveled. He nodded, walking
toward her, waiting for her to accept his invitation. "It's
brilliant, even if it's slightly plagiarized."