Dream of You (10 page)

"I never lose control," he said as he cupped
the back of her head and pressed closer.

Then he kissed her.

She mewled in pleasure the moment his lips
touched hers. It was deliberate and in charge so all she could do
was wrap her arms around him and hold on.

When he finally let her go, she propped her
hands on the counter so she wouldn't ooze to the ground. "That was
nice," she said. "We'll have to try it again."

"No."

"No?" She wrinkled her nose.

"No." He straightened his tie.

She waited for more, but it became apparent
he wasn't going to say more, so she said, "Why not? Didn't you just
say you think of me like I think of you?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean getting involved
with each other is a good idea."

She wanted to say she didn't want to get
involved, that she just wanted to have sex, but it felt like a lie.
So she just said, "It's a great idea."

He smoothed her hair back in place. "We'd be
a train wreck."

"We'd be fireworks."

"More like the explosion from two trains
colliding." He caressed her face. "We live in different worlds. It
wouldn't work. I've tried it before."

They weren't from different worlds, but it
seemed important for him to accept her as she was, not because he
found out she had a gazillion dollars and used to head one of the
largest tech firms in the world. "Lady and the Tramp made it
work."

The corner of his lips quirked. "You're using
Disney as an example for us?"

"It works." She looked behind him. "Speaking
of Lady, where's Chanel?"

"At the vet, getting her check up. That's why
I'm late to work." He glanced at his watch. "I had to wait to drop
her off."

Her heart melted. He'd be such a good
dad.

"I have to get to work," he said.

She grasped his tie before he could get away.
"Where you'll think about me and my sassy mouth?"

His gaze fell to said mouth. "I won't think
about you, Kristin."

She gave him a gentle kiss and whispered
against his lips. "Liar."

Sam huddled on the living room couch, feeling
like he was a kid hiding from his parents. Except in reality, he
was the parent and the person he was hiding from was his
daughter.

The text came through in an optimistic
ping.

Lola Carmichael:
I got the flowers
today
.

He'd never sent flowers to a woman after he'd
spent the night—or rather, two nights. It wasn't his style, but
he'd been passing the flower stand and they looked like her, bright
and sunny. So he'd acted on impulse.

Before he could reply, she texted him
again.

Lola Carmichael:
You don't need to butter
me up to get into my pants again. Make me come like that again and
you can come over anytime.

"I'll be right over," he murmured as he
pecked at his phone.

Sam Taylor:
That assumes you're wearing
pants.

Lola Carmichael:
You wish, big
boy.

"Whatchya doing, Daddy?"

Like he was going to tell her. "Did you
finish your homework?"

She rolled her eyes as she bounced down next
to him. "A way long time ago. I told you."

"Oh. Right." He'd been distracted. Actually,
he'd been distracted constantly since he'd left Lola Sunday
morning. The two nights with her had shifted the axis of his
world.

"Who were you texting?" His daughter tried to
dodge around him to look at his screen.

"No one." He turned off his screen. The last
thing he needed was for his daughter to see him sexting a
woman.

Madison made a face at him and then grabbed
the remote. She turned the TV off.

"Hey." He pointed at the blank screen.
"That's Monday Night Football."

"We have important things to discuss, and I
want you to pay attention," she said in her attempt of a grown up
voice. "If the TV's on you won't listen."

Important things? He imagined all the things
it could be—all the female related things—and started to sweat.
"Maybe we should call your Mom."

Madison's face wrinkled adorably. "To talk
about Lola?"

"Lola?" He frowned. "This is about Lola?"

"What did you think it was about?
Sex
?" she shrieked in a purposeful taunt.

He pointed at her. "It's not nice to tease
your father."

She giggled.

"So what do you want to talk about?"

"I think you should take her to your party
thing on Friday."

"I told you about that?"

"Duh." She rolled her eyes. "Ask her."

He pictured Lola in a cocktail dress and he
started to sweat again. "Madison, I don't think she'll want to
go."

"Sure she will. All girls like a reason to
wear fancy dresses. And she likes you."

"How do you know?"

She shrugged with eleven-year-old wisdom.
"It's totally obvious. So are you going to ask her?"

"I'll think about it." Actually, it was
brilliant. Jennifer was going to be there, of course, since it was
a station-sponsored fundraiser. If she thought that he and Lola
cared about each other, maybe she'd put him back into his normal
spot.

Truthfully,
Ladies' Night
wasn't as
bad as he thought it'd be. Once he got over his initial negative
headspace, he'd been surprised to realize he enjoyed the program.
People cared about his opinions on their love lives, and his guest
were entertaining.

Not that he wanted to be stuck dishing out
advice to lovesick women for the rest of his life. He loved
sports.

And Lola was the answer to the situation with
Jennifer.

However, he had a feeling Lola wouldn't like
it if she knew what he was considering doing.

But she wouldn't have to know, and he
actually did like her. It surprised him. He felt awake with her in
a way he hadn't been since he'd played football. So, technically,
this was win-win.

"Don't think about it." Madison grabbed his
phone and shoved it in his face. "Do it."

He scowled at her but took the phone from her
hand. "When did you get so pushy?"

"You're the one who always tells me to go
after what I want." She leaned forward, chin on her knees with her
arms wrapped around her legs.

"Are you just going to sit there?"

"Yeah."

He recognized the stubborn set to her chin—he
saw it in the mirror himself. He had to remember to apologize to
his parents. Knowing Madison wouldn't budge until he made the call,
he pulled up Lola's number and pressed call.

She answered on the third ring. "If this is
for a booty call, it's not a good time. I'm right in the middle of
sex."

"I bet he's not as good as me."

She sighed. "He's really not."

He couldn't help grinning like a loon.

Madison nudged his foot. "Ask," she
mouthed.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I have an
annoying prepubescent girl here who's insisting that I ask you to a
thing I have to go to on Friday."

"It's a dance," Madison yelled.

Lola laughed. "She wants you to take me to a
dance?"

"It's a benefit the station is sponsoring for
a homeless charity. Madison insists you'd love to put on a party
dress and attend with me."

There was a pause, then Lola said in her sexy
low voice, "What do you want, Sam?"

You
. He glanced at his daughter, who
waited eagerly. "Out, Madison."

Sighing, she flounced up. "Bye, Lola," she
yelled, leaving the room.

Sam waited until Madison was out of hearing
range. Then, because he knew Lola would catch his meaning, he
softly said, "I'd very much like you to come."

Her breath caught. "Naughty."

"Will you go with me?"

"Yes. And then you'll come with me," she
promised.

"I can't wait," he said fervently.

She laughed and hung up.

He dropped the phone on the couch and went to
tell his daughter.

Madison ran out of her bedroom the moment she
heard his footsteps. "She said yes?"

"Yes."

"Yay!" She hopped up and down and grabbed his
hand. "We have to figure out what you're going to wear."

"I'll wear clothes." He let her drag him down
the hall to his bedroom. "Besides, it's days away."

"Like only four." She shook her head like he
was impossible and led him to the closet. Throwing the door open,
she looked around, shoving things aside dismissively until she
found a sports coat she liked. "This, with a white shirt. You look
good in white. And jeans. But with nice shoes."

He watched as she got onto her hands and
knees, crawling on the floor. She held up a pair triumphantly.
"These."

They were the most expensive shoes he owned,
a pair he'd splurged on before he blew his knee out. "Okay."

"Promise."

"I promise."

She pointed at him. "You'll text me a
picture?"

"When did you become so militant?"

"This is important, Daddy."

"Okay, fine." He drew her out of the closet.
"But now it's time for bed."

"Okay." She skipped to her bedroom,
completely complacent now that she'd gotten what she wanted.

Shaking his head, he followed. He tucked her
into her bed and turned off the light. Like every night he'd been
with her since she'd been born, he rubbed her back lightly to help
her calm down. He loved this part of their ritual. He felt her
heart beat under her thin ribs and he swore his beat in tune.

"I'm happy you asked Lola, Daddy," his
daughter murmured.

"Why do you like her so much?" he asked. He'd
wondered. Madison had never pushed him toward a woman before. In
fact, she'd been bratty to a couple of his ex-girlfriends in the
past.

"You like her," she said now. "I could tell
on the radio. You talked to her like you talk to me, and you never
do that."

Madison wiggled, hugging her pillow, falling
asleep a moment later.

Sam sat there in the echo of her words. From
the mouths of babes.

Lola burst into The Sunrise Care Home, eager
to share her story with her mom. She'd started over after all. She
only had three weeks, but the new plotline hit her suddenly and the
story was finally pouring out of her.

She thought it was good.

But her mom was the real litmus test. Lola
couldn't wait to run it by her. She jogged up the stairs and to the
nurses' station. "Hi, Letty. How are things?"

"Great." Letty beamed. "The inhaler did its
job and the congestion in your mom's chest is clearing up. The
doctor was really pleased. And today is a good day."

"How good?"

"She even recognized me."

Lola wilted against the station, joy filling
her chest. Good days were few and far between—fewer and further
than ever before. The last time her mother recognized her was a
year ago, and it'd been so fleeting. "I'm afraid to even hope."

"I know." The nurse patted her hand. "It
really sucks, doesn't it?"

"That pretty much sums it up." Lola smiled
and continued down the hall. She knocked on the door and then
popped her head in. "Mom?"

Sally looked up from her usual seat in the
window, where she was knitting. Then she brightened. "Lola. It's
been such a long time. Come in, honey."

The tightness in Lola's chest loosened, and
she rushed forward to hug her mom. "Mom, it's so
nice
to see
you."

Her mom held her at arm's length. "I feel
like it's been a long time since I've seen you. You look
different."

"How?"

"A little wiser around the edges." She
frowned. "It's been a while since I've been lucid, hasn't it?"

"A little while," she conceded, not wanting
to lie to her mom.

Sally cupped Lola's face, sorrow etched in
every line. "I'm so sorry to be a burden, my love. You should leave
me here and forget about me."

"I'd never leave you, Mom." She kissed her
mom's forehead, breathing in her scent. She closed her eyes and
gave a prayer of thanks for this one moment. She was very conscious
of the fact that it could very well be the last lucid moment her
mother ever had.

She'd cherish every second.

Swallowing back the sadness, she
straightened, smiling brightly. "I have a new story to read you,
Mom."

"Is it one of your books?" she said, setting
aside her knitting.

"Yes. The heroine's name if Louise."

"Which bears a great resemblance to Lola."
Her mother smiled fondly. "Your first story was about your father
and me, so can I assume this one is about you?"

Mom remembered. Lola couldn't speak for a
moment, she was so overcome. Finally, she managed to nod. "Yes,
this one's about me."

"Read it to me then."

She took out the pages she'd printed and
began reading the new story.

The first time she saw Sawyer, she thought
he was a cretin—a cretin who kissed like he wanted to burrow deep
into her and never leave. It wasn't long before Louise realized she
was wrong about the cretin part, but not about him wanting her,
body and soul.

She read the story about a writer and a
cantankerous TV personality who was bitter about the cards dealt to
him but who had a heart of gold. Whenever her mom laughed, she felt
such a sense of pride that she'd willingly go through Kevin all
over again just so she could appreciate her courtship with Sam that
much more.

"Is that all you have?" her mother asked when
she finally stopped.

"That's all I've written so far. I had to
scrap the story I was writing and start over."

"I like Sawyer." Her mother nodded once to
reinforce her declaration. "What's his real name?"

"Sam."

"That's a nice, solid name. He's good to
you?"