Dream of You (7 page)

"Really?" Madison perked up. "Can I go to her
store? I think it's time to get one."

Lola glanced quickly at the girl's
still-adolescent chest. "What do your parents think?"

"Mom's busy with her social life, and Daddy
says I can't have one until I'm thirty."

Glancing at Sam, Lola tried not to smile.
"I'm sure your daddy knows what's best for you."

Madison whirled to her dad. "Sarah Michelle
says I'll get
saggy
if I don't start wearing a bra now."

The girl didn't have enough to even threaten
drooping, but Lola could see Sam didn't want to point that out, so
she said, "I didn't wear a bra until I was fifteen, and I don't
sag."

"Really?" Madison gaze went directly to
Lola's boobs. "They do look nice."

Sam cleared his throat. "Can we change the
topic?"

"Would you rather we talk about jock straps,
Daddy?"

"Hell, no." He frowned at his daughter. "You
better not know anything about them either."

The girl tossed her napkin aside. "Let's go
to a movie."

"I promised your mom I'd have you home early
to finish your homework."

"I'd rather watch a movie with you guys." She
looked at the two of them eagerly. "Unless you'd rather go alone so
you could make out."

Lola's gaze shot to Sam's. She could tell he
was remembering their kiss in the sound room. She felt herself
flush at the hungry way he looked at her now.

He was the one to recover first, saying,
"Madison, you
especially
better not know what making out
is."

"We have cable, Daddy. It's not like I live
in a hole."

"Careful, or I'll see that you do." He looked
at Lola. "I'll take this little monster home first and then drop
you off."

She covered up the odd surge of
disappointment with a bright smile. "Sounds great."

Madison sat in the back even though Lola
tried to get her to take the front seat. The Jeep was big, but Sam
was huge. He seemed to energetically spill into her space.

Sitting so close to Sam was...

Nerve-wracking.

Awful.

Exhilarating.

She ran through a thesaurus of words in her
head to keep herself from reaching over to take his hand.

He pulled over to the curb and put the car in
park. Turning to her, he said, "Excuse me a sec."

"Bye, Lola." Madison threw her arms around
Lola's neck, strangling her enthusiastically from behind. "I can't
wait to read your book, even if Daddy won't let me for five
years."

"Ten," he threatened, winking at Lola. He
opened the door and escorted his bouncy daughter to her mother's
home.

Lola exhaled deeply the second they were
gone. She tried to regroup, but it was hard. All her preconceived
notions about Sam
Touchdown
Taylor were being proven wrong.
In fact, Sam was charming her with the obvious way he loved his
daughter.

Sam came back a moment later. As he got in
and buckled up, he said, "I half expected you to have run home
after all that."

She smiled. "Madison is something."

"That's an understatement." He turned to her
and grinned like a father besotted by his child. "She's pretty
terrific, isn't she?"

Lola's heart melted, and in that moment she
decided she liked him. A lot.

"Where do you live?" he asked, pulling away
from the curb.

"Back by Grounds for Thoughts, in Laurel
Heights. On Sacramento."

"Fancy."

She shrugged. "Convenient."

She felt him looking at her, wanting to know
more. But she wasn't about to confess that she'd moved there to be
close to her mother. She didn't want to explain how her mom had
been slowly disappearing over the past ten years, her memories
slipping away, bit by bit. That, after years of experimental drugs
and trying to take care of her mom herself, Lola had finally had to
put her in a special home.

Looking out the window, she turned the
conversation back onto him. "How long have you been divorced?"

"Not long enough. Three years." He was quiet
for a moment and then said, "Chelsea became pregnant
accidentally
after I was offered a running back position on
the 49ers. But I blew out my knee soon after, and she wasn't happy
about being a has-been's wife. I stuck in there for Madison's sake,
though."

"I can't believe I read you so wrong."

"How so?" he asked, glancing at her.

"I thought you were a total bastard."

"I am."

"You're actually a nice guy." She shook her
head. "I know. I'm surprised by that, too."

They drove in silence until they reached her
building. He double-parked outside and walked her up to her
apartment.

She was conscious of him behind her every
step of the way. He watched her butt—she could feel it. And because
she could feel it, she may have added just a touch more attitude to
its sway as she walked.

At her door, she unlocked it and turned
around. Before she could thank him, he pressed her against it and
kissed her.

She gave herself up to him instantly, arching
up to meet him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt one of
his hands cradle her head and the other anchor her by the
waist.

Just like the last time, the kiss consumed
her. The passion, the heat—she'd never felt anything like it.

The first time hadn't been a fluke.

"This is crazy," he murmured against her
mouth as he slipped his hand under the layers of her clothing to
the bare skin of her back.

She sighed in pleasure and nodded. "Totally
crazy."

"I don't seem to mind that much though." He
clasped her close and rewarded her with another enthusiastic
onslaught.

She hitched her leg over his hip, rubbing
against the very prominent ridge of his erection. Frankly, she
didn't mind either. At all.

"I have an idea," he said after kissing her
so boneless she could have qualified for whatever genus earthworms
belonged to.

She nodded and said, "Yes," before she kissed
him more.

When he came up for air, he pointed out, "You
don't even know what I'm going to suggest."

"No, but I'm sure it's an excellent idea."
She lifted her lips for more.

But he just smiled down at her. "I was going
to suggest me bringing over dinner tomorrow. After my show."

"Okay." She rubbed herself against him,
focusing on the now.

"Okay. Good." He nodded and then disentangled
from her.

Lola blinked in surprise. "What are you
doing?"

"Going home to give us a chance to cool down
and reconsider the biggest mistake we've both made in a long
time."

She frowned. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't." He shook his head. "In fact, in
half an hour I'm going to beat my head against the wall for passing
up a chance to 'make out' with the hottest woman I've ever
met."

Lola perked up. "Really?"

"You know you are." He laid another wickedly
intense kiss on her before he turned and jogged down the stairs.
"Think about it, Lola. Tomorrow night."

His sexy voice promised a night of
unimaginable delights—and she had an
excellent
imagination.
She slumped against the door, fanning herself. There was nothing to
think about. She was going to be ready for him tomorrow night.

The benefits of having a boss like Eve was
that when you wanted to leave work early to stalk a man, she just
said "Good luck."

Kristin settled on the step in front of the
locked lobby to the apartments above Grounds for Thought. She had
no idea where Rob Cray lived, but she knew he walked by the café
every day on the way to and from work.

This past week, he'd taken the puppy with
him.

She'd been so surprised when she saw him walk
into the café that first morning with the dog trotting obediently
next to him on a brand-new leash. She hadn't been entirely sure
that he'd keep the bedraggled thing, but the fact that he had
reinforced her decision to ask him to father her child. He had
compassion, and she liked that.

"Excuse me."

Kristin looked up at the gravelly voice. In
front of her stood a hulk of a man: tall, muscles bulging from a
tight T-shirt, longish Johnny Depp hair. His gaze was so intense
that if she hadn't been sitting she'd have backed up a couple
steps.

She swallowed. "Yes?"

"You're in my way." He nodded at the
door.

"You live here?" Then it registered on her
who he was. "
Oh
. You're the new guy who rented Eve's
apartment."

He simply stared at her.

It'd have scared a normal person, but Kristin
had been raised with two older brothers. She could tell he was all
bark. "They say you're a serial killer."

He continued to stare at her.

"So you're not wanted in five states?"

"Move," he said.

She stood up, not getting out of his way
entirely. "Ogres usually live under bridges, not in San Francisco
flats."

He stepped up, towering over her. "Do you
have a death wish?"

Shrugging, she said, "I need a little
excitement in my life."

He stared at her, a blank look that betrayed
nothing. Then he brushed by her and let himself into the
building.

"Are you okay?"

She turned to find Rob and the puppy a few
feet away. Chanel was straining at her leash, growling after the
intense dude. Rob wasn't much better.

"I'm great. Don't worry about him. He got
jock itch at the gym and it's pissing him off." Kristin gestured
behind her. "We're besties, actually."

Rob's frown deepened.

She bent down to pet the dog, who had a
sparkly collar around its neck that read Chanel. It was silly, but
Kristin felt tingly that Rob had not only kept the name she'd given
the dog but given her a personalized collar with it, too.

She smiled brilliantly, scratching the dog
behind her ears. "How are you doing, Chanel? It looks like you've
been to the spa."

"I've never seen a dog like the groomer the
way this one did," Rob said. "She didn't want to leave."

"I like the spa too," she told the animal.
Then she stood. "Of course, I haven't been in forever. Is that
takeout in your hand?"

He looked down at the bag he was carrying.
"Yes."

She waited for him to elaborate, but when he
didn't she asked, "What kind?"

"Indian."

"I love Indian food." She beamed at him.
"Mind if I join you?"

The puppy barked once.

"Chanel thinks it's a good idea," she pointed
out with a sweet smile.

"What's your game?" he asked
suspiciously.

She froze, hearing her slowly desiccating
eggs scream to tread carefully. "What do you mean?"

"You obviously want something from me."

Your sperm, but she didn't think he'd react
well if she told him that now. So she just said, "I like you."

His jaw steeled. "I'm not an easy mark, so if
you're after money you picked the wrong guy."

The idea that she'd want money was so
ludicrous that she burst out laughing. Then she thought about it
more and doubled over.

"It's not that funny," she heard Rob say over
her laughter.

If he knew what was in her bank account—the
one in the states as well as the one she'd opened in the Grand
Caymans, just because it tickled her—he'd laugh too.

Or maybe not. Men were touchy about their
women out-earning them. Unless they were mooches, and she took care
not to attract the sort of man who'd try to take advantage of
her.

"Want to clue me in on the joke?" Rob asked,
with curiosity rather than the annoyance she'd have expected.

Wiping the tears of mirth, she shook her
head. "Not today. Or at least not until you feed me."

He sighed. "Come on."

She walked alongside him, hiccupping the
occasional last bit of laughter. "I haven't had that good a laugh
in a while."

"I'm glad I could help."

"Just to clarify, I was laughing at me, not
you."

"If you want me to believe that, you'll have
to deliver it more convincingly."

She grinned. "I'm an awful actress. I'm
pretty much an open book. I never learned feminine wiles because I
was surrounded by boys. My mom was no help, because she was a
firefighter."

"Your mom?"

She nodded. "We were a rough and tumble
household. I'm scrappy. Don't ever try to arm wrestle me. I don't
play fair."

"I could have told you that," he
muttered.

Chanel barked in agreement.

"I love this dog." She smiled at the pooch.
"I'm so happy you decided to adopt her."

"She's not so bad." He bent down and
scratched its ears.

Aw
. Robert Cray pretended like he was
a cold-ass business guy but he was mush on the inside.

Then Kristin frowned. "What
do
you do
for a living, Rob?"

"I run a hedge fund."

Successfully, based on the way he dressed and
that he lived in Laurel Heights.

They walked down the block and turned right.
Another block, a left turn, and he nodded at a house. "It's this
one."

She stood outside and looked at the building.
It was a three-story Edwardian cottage, nicely maintained with a
small but lovely front yard. "It's so cute," she exclaimed as she
hurried to follow him to the porch.

He opened the door and motioned her
inside.

She strode in and looked around. "It's a
whole house."

"Yes." He looked at her like she was insane.
Bending, he unlatched Chanel's leash.

The dog calmly trotted down the hallway,
obviously knowing where she was going.

Kristin ducked into the first doorway. There
was a large living room, decorated in shades of brown. Expensively
decorated, but monochromatic nonetheless. "How many bedrooms do you
have?"

"Four." He pulled off his tie, setting it
neatly on a table, and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his
shirt.