A Glimpse of the Dream by L. A. Fiore
I didn’t like thinking about it, but I remembered her coming right out and saying she wanted Kane when we were younger; she hadn’t hedged at all. And the tires. “She slashed his tires when we were kids.”
“What?”
“Right after he told her it was never going happen with them.”
“What the fuck?”
“Maybe you’re right, maybe she’s got a warped attraction thing going on for Kane. That’s unnerving. I’d rather it be that she was only looking to steal from us.”
“Agreed, a thief is far easier to deal with than a loon. Anyway, after I saw Sleazy off and the others came home, I walked into town. I think this could be a great place to open a second store.”
“I think so too.”
“The Boston shop is firmly established—speaking of which, don’t forget the party is approaching. I think we need to branch out, and here seems just as good as anywhere.”
The party. I wondered if Kane remembered and was still willing to travel to Boston with me. I’d have to remind him. Moving past that, I focused on Simon’s suggestion. It was true, Blue Hill had seen significant growth during the years I’d been away, many high-end boutiques now had storefronts along Main Street. Antiques would do very well. “I like the idea of opening a shop here. We should call a realtor and see what’s available.”
Kane never did join us for dinner, so I found my way to the island. Zeus greeted me as soon as I stepped off the little boat. Walking around back with him, I found Kane, but he wasn’t working out with his bar. Instead he was sitting on one of the Adirondack chairs, a beer in his hand, seemingly lost in thought. Not wishing to disturb him, I stopped walking, debating if I should stay or go.
“You don’t have to leave.”
Uncanny how he did that. He answered my unasked question. “Your scent, not just your perfume but your natural scent, is unique and it drives me crazy. I can always tell when you’re near.”
Moving around to face him, I saw that his eyes were closed, his head resting back. He looked really comfortable. I had feared he was brooding again.
“You missed dinner,” I said.
“More for Simon. That guy eats.”
“I know. You okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“About?”
He placed his bottle on the table next to him and reached for me. Climbing into his lap, he wrapped me in his arms. I sighed. I couldn’t help it, since this was my very favorite way to sit.
“I was thinking about you,” he said.
Tingles moved down my body, like fans in the stands doing the wave. “Me?”
“Seeing my mom, knowing it was because of her illness that I found a permanent home at Raven’s Peak and met you . . . how one small change can have such drastic effects. I don’t know if things would have been different if my mom hadn’t left. Would I have volunteered for the fire department and ended up in that burning building? Would I have stayed here after graduating high school? I honestly don’t know, but what I do know, even with everything that’s happened to me, is that I’d go through it all again if it meant I could be with you.”
An involuntary sob ripped from my throat; as horrible a thought as that was—him going through it all again—the sentiment was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.
“I mean it, Tea. Being with you these past few weeks has made me realize how wrong I was to push you away. How life, my life, is so sweet with you, and so empty without you.” He reached into his pocket, my ring appearing. “Marry me, Tea.”
Tears were falling now; there was just no stopping them. “Yes.”
Reaching for my hand, he slipped his ring on and, like he had done before, he kissed it. “I won’t fuck it up this time.”
Crying, I buried my face in his neck, but the tears were happy ones.
I woke up in the middle of the night, Kane over me, his mouth trailing kisses down my neck and collarbone, down the valley between my breasts to my stomach. My hands moved over him, up his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. He tensed when I reached his scars but only for a second; he was getting used to my touch. I still felt the sting of tears when my fingertips moved over his scarred skin, thinking of the pain he had endured, and hearing that he’d endure it again to be with me, there just weren’t words.
His tongue dipped into my navel, licking down my stomach to the apex of my thighs. His fingers curled at my waist a second before he pulled the silk of my panties down my legs. His hands found my legs, moved up to my calves, and draped my legs over his shoulders. Spread for him, I watched as his head lowered and he kissed me right where I was aching. His fingers tightened on my ass as he lifted me higher, his tongue running down along my wet heat, tracing me and dipping in only slightly. Returning to the nub, he sucked on it, and I felt the start of the orgasm tightening in my belly, and then he was pushing into me, hard with his tongue, as he rubbed and squeezed the pleasure point with his fingers. Stealing my breath, the orgasm seemed to just keep coming as he continued to feast, working me until another orgasm followed the first. As I came down from the second one, he moved up my body and slid into me. He moved slowly, in and out, almost leisurely. His mouth found mine, and I tasted him and myself. He rolled so I was astride him, my hips taking up the motion, riding him as I slowly brought him to climax. Sitting up, he held me close, his body flexing with his orgasm, his seed pumping into me. Neither of us were willing to break the beauty of the moment, so we stayed like that for a good long time.
Kane
Tea had fallen back asleep after we’d made love, but I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts were on our lovemaking. It had been different, more profound. We hadn’t used protection since she returned, and I hoped that I had planted my baby in her. I wanted that, wanted to have a family with her. Even though we had taken the long way to get where we were, she was in my bed and wearing my ring. She had told me once that all of her happiest memories were with me, and I understood the sentiment completely, since I felt the same way. We had a lifetime to make more memories. I wasn’t going to let her go, wasn’t going to lose the best thing in my life again.
I wished I could see her, really see her. In my head, she was still that eighteen-year-old, her thick copper hair falling past her shoulders, her eyes the color of summer grass, with a smile that took my breath away. Her body was different, her breasts larger, her hips rounder, and her waist thinner. There was muscle under her soft skin, defined from working out. She had been gorgeous at eighteen, at twenty-seven, she was stunning.
The party in Boston was next month. I was nervous. It was a big city. I didn’t know it at all, but it meant everything to Tea that I come. I could hear that so clearly when I’d agreed to join her. I’d go and do my damnedest to not embarrass her.
She had accomplished so much in the years we were apart. Even knowing how much I had hurt her, she hadn’t let it get the better of her. She’d pushed on and made something of herself. I had yet to do that. I needed to set up and run the inn—needed to know I could. The librarian, the same woman who’d worked at the library when Tea and I were younger, gave me my own room so I could listen to my classes and take notes on my recorder and not disturb anyone. I was churning through the online classes and even had a few interviews with owners of inns in neighboring towns that Mr. O’Malley offered to drive me to. There was much to learn, but I found I was thirsty to learn more. For the first time since the accident, I felt anticipation, a real belief that not all of my dreams were lost.
We would visit Mrs. Marks in the morning. She was awake and speaking more clearly. Luckily the stroke had been mild, so mild that the effects were all but gone. It was scary how close she had come. Mrs. T was already working up a new menu that was lower in fat, but she wasn’t going to forgo taste. Simon, as her taster, was very honest. So there was no doubt the end result was going to be a winner.
Mrs. Marks was scheduled to come home at the end of the week. I wanted to tell her about the visit with my mom. Needed to th
Mr. O’Malley hadn’t been home when I’d called, but his wife had promised she’d have him call me in the morning. I believed Camille was working with Sleazy. She always had been a schemer, even with something as simple as going to the movies. She would try to get in without paying. Never did she just do something the right way; there was always an angle. I wasn’t surprised she hadn’t changed, but I’d be damned if I let her steal things from Mrs. Marks.
Tea stirred, and I pulled her closer. Zeus, rolling in his sleep, settled against my other side. For the first time in a really long time, I was happy.
“Mrs. Marks, you look wonderful.” Tea sounded relieved; I knew she’d feared that Mrs. Marks was worse than the doctors were saying.
“I feel wonderful. Simon, I’m sorry I wasn’t up for a visit the last time you were here.”
“Nonsense. It’s wonderful seeing you looking so well.”
I sensed when Simon moved. I heard Mrs. Marks’s breathing speed up.
“Lovely to officially meet you,” Simon said. I wasn’t surprised to hear a giggle from Mrs. Marks.
Tea chuckled. “We need to bottle that, Simon, and sell it. We’d make a fortune.”
“Bottle what?”
“Your charm.”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. Tea was right. Simon could charm the panties off a nun, I’d bet. Not that he’d want to.
Tea’s hand squeezed mine. “Would you like a few minutes with Mrs. Marks?”
My chest felt tight, but not in a bad way. I hadn’t mentioned my wish to talk with Mrs. Marks alone, and yet my Tea knew me, knew without me having to say anything. Bringing her hand to my lips, I brushed my lips over her fingertips. She moved into me, just slightly, seeking a closer connection. I could feel her pulse pounding in her wrist, felt her breath coming out faster: excitement, lust, desire. Her eyes would be a darker green and her full lips slightly open. Beautiful, even in my head, she was fucking beautiful.
“Just a few minutes.”
It took her a minute to respond. She was still lost in the moment and, I couldn’t lie, I liked that her desire for me left her off-balance, aroused. “Ah, okay. Simon and I will get some coffee.”
Her breasts pressed into my chest when her soft lips brushed lightly over mine. My dick stirred to life. I could tell when she’d left, and not just because her scent wasn’t as strong—my body just knew. Another connection.
“I’m so happy you two have found your way back to each other.” Mrs. Marks pulled me from my thoughts of Tea.
“There’s a chair here, about three feet in front of you,” Mrs. Marks directed.
Zeus moved and I followed, until my toe touched the leg. Reaching out, I felt the back of the chair, then felt the seat on the back of my legs before I sat down.
“What did you want to talk with me about?” she asked.
“I saw my mom.”
“I hate that I kept that from you. A pattern seems to be forming in my behavior.”
Mrs. Marks meant it as a joke, but I could hear disgust for herself in her tone.
“She asked you to keep the secret and so did I. We shouldn’t have. That’s on us, not you.”
She didn’t reply, but I suspected there was a part of her that agreed with me. I continued. “Thank you for taking me in as a kid, for giving me a home and family, for indirectly giving me Tea.”
Tension stilled the air, and I could feel her stiffening. After a moment of silence, her words were soft, tormented. “I lost my son—having your child die before you is the hardest thing there is for a parent. It isn’t right. I was there when that beautiful soul was brought into the world, and yet when he died, he did so alone. I had thought we were managing his illness, thought he was finally happy and getting some control. For years, I blamed myself. Had I done something differently, taken him to different doctors, watched him more closely, would he still have taken his own life? Later, I realized he wouldn’t have wanted that. Playing his nurse and not his mom would have put his illness between us.
“Seeing the parallel of my own life and your mom’s, seeing the similar patterns of my son in her, knowing she had you to care for, I couldn’t not get involved. I wished it could have turned out differently, wished you didn’t lose all that time with your mom, but I was glad that I could be there to help both her and you.”
My throat hurt, and unshed tears burned the back of my eyes. I could hear the pain in her voice, the regret. “You saved both of us.”
She was crying softly. I could hear the tears in her voice. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I’d offer you a tissue, but I don’t see any,” I said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Hearing her chuckle eased the knot in my stomach.
“Making light of your blindness is a good sign.”
“I’m coming to terms with it, but I wish I could see Tea now that she’s older.”
“She looks the same, her hair is the same, her face, her smile. And she still looks at you like you hung the moon. From the very beginning, you and she . . . ‘two peas in a pod’ is how Mrs. T and I described you. You’re stronger together.”
I grinned at Mrs. Marks’s description.
“She’s wearing your ring.”
“It never should have been off her finger. Fuc—Messed that up. Won’t again.”
“Good catch.” Mrs. Marks didn’t like swearing. “Makes an old woman’s heart light to see the righting of a wrong. Kane,” she said almost urgently. “You hurt her. I know why. I understand, but for a long time I wasn’t sure we would get her back. You can’t do that to her again. You can’t yank yourself from her life. Teagan’s a strong woman, but I don’t think she’d survive that again.”
Pain stabbed through me. I didn’t like thinking about what I had put Tea through. I knew she had lived in her own hell during the years we were apart. I really believed she was over it now, had dealt with it and put it all in the past. I liked to think we both had. But doubt nagged at me.
Tea entered then, and my body jerked, and then I smelled her, sweet and spicy. Her voice was deeper, a little hoarse, so I knew she had heard the tail end of our conversation.
“We brought coffee.” Her hip brushed my shoulder, her soft hand reached for mine to wrap my fingers around the cup. Her lips pressed against my ear, and her breath fanned out over my skin. “Miss me?”
“Hell yeah.” I wanted to pull her into my lap, wanted my mouth on her and my hands all over her, but now wasn’t the time. She moved. I felt her behind me, her hand on my shoulder almost absently, like she needed the connection. Since I, too, sought that connection to her, I understood her reciprocal need.
“Simon, tell me about this skill of yours in finding treasures,” Mrs. Marks asked.
“I can sense them or almost smell them out. It’s like they call to me,” said Simon.
“Oh God, here we go,” Tea said. Clearly she’d been through this conversation before.
“She’s jealous, since she doesn’t have my gift.”
“Tell me about this rolltop desk. I might have a need for one.”
I knew Simon had settled on the edge of the bed. I heard the springs give. “So glad you asked.”
Tea leaned over me. “This could be a while.”
I wanted to pull her from the room, to find a closet so we could use the time in a far more enjoyable pursuit. If I could see, we’d already be halfway down the hall.
“Maybe we should find a closet,” she whispered in my ear. My dick pressed into my jeans.
“I was just thinking that.”
“I know you were.”
“Later, Tea.”
Goose bumps rose on her skin as her arms wrapped around my shoulders. “Can’t wait.”
Tea straightened, because Simon and Mrs. Marks were done with their powwow. “Let’s talk about your lawyer,” Tea said. She never was one to pull a punch.
“You want to know why I asked him to inventory the house.”
“You were hoping to catch him trying to steal from you.”
I heard surprise in Mrs. Marks voice. “Yes, how did you know that?”
“Just made sense based on what we’ve learned about him. But if you suspected he was up to no good, why didn’t you just fire him?”
“I was going to, but I was asked not to.”
It was Tea who sounded surprised now. “By who?”
“Richard Bowen.”
Now I was surprised. “Camille’s dad asked you not to fire him?”
“He was the one who suggested I tell him I wanted to sell, that I needed him to catalog the contents of the house.”
“He’s looking for his own leverage.” It was Simon’s voice this time, full of admiration.
“What do you mean by that?” Mrs. Marks asked.
Tea leaned into me, probably cocking her hip. She did that when she ranted. “We believe that Mr. Sleazy, your lawyer—”
Mrs. Marks interrupted Tea. “You call him Sleazy?”
“Mr. Sleazy. I’m respectful,” Tea said. There was silence for a beat, which was followed by a genuine belly laugh from Mrs. Marks.
“Well thank goodness you’re being respectful.”
A touch of humor laced Tea’s voice when she continued. “We think Mr. Sleazy has something on Bowen, which is why he hired the man despite his shady past. Mr. Sleazy and Camille went to Yale together. We think she told him about Raven’s Peak. He has a penchant for stealing. He used whatever he has on Bowen to get into his firm, so he could represent you and get into Raven’s Peak. He’s never allowed in the house unaccompanied, and he doesn’t like that.”
“Interesting. So my lawyer is trying to steal from me.”
“You don’t sound all that surprised,” I said.