Road Rage (9 page)

A heavy sigh. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Uh, oh. Why did he suddenly feel like an asshole? Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but definitely disappointed. “Should I?”

“I guess not.”

His new erection flagged. He didn’t think she meant to, but his dream girl was making him feel guilty when he hadn’t done anything wrong. She expected him to know her, remember her from somewhere, but he couldn’t call up a memory that didn’t exist. He hadn’t dated a ton before Deidre. They’d married young. There had been a few girls in high school and college, but this woman left them in the dust.

Shouldn’t his dream girl just kind of be quiet and let him–what?–use her? As soon as he thought it, he knew he wouldn’t have imagined up someone who would be no more than a source of sexual release. He’d had that once and hadn’t liked it. No, his perfect woman would be more than a pretty face and willing body. She’d be a whole person he could talk to and be friends with.

“Look,” he said, “maybe if you tell me your name, I’ll remember something. I know you’re not based on anyone I’ve ever dated. But maybe I knew someone like you at one point.”

She huffed a humorless laugh. “You still think I’m a dream.”

Why wouldn’t she just tell him her name? Wait, maybe she didn’t have one because he hadn’t given her one. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but that’s all you are. Believe me, I wish you were more.”

“Me too.” The longing in her tone ripped his heart. The urge to comfort her had him lifting their linked hands to his lips. He kissed her knuckles. Her skin smelled like his own musk and a fruit orchard on a warm summer day. He meant to soothe her with the kiss, but found his chest puffing up with contentedness.

He had to get rid of her. He didn’t deserve to feel this good after hurting Haley. “Damn, sweetheart, you have no idea how bad I wish you could stay, but you really shouldn’t be here. I should be having nightmares tonight, not sweet dreams.”

He tried thinking about the car accident. He pictured the view out the windshield of the little Honda. He could almost see the glare of sun off the other cars on the freeway, the feel of the steering wheel gripped in his too-small hands. He was almost there, stressing about merging, seconds away from disaster.

Soft lips brushed his ear. Full breasts squished against his chest, and he tried not to imagine how great they would feel naked and in his hands. “Why do you think you don’t deserve sweet dreams?”

“Because I was a jerk to my ex-wife and made my little girl cry.” No need to save face with her. She was an extension of himself, after all.

“So you think you need to be punished?” She nuzzled the hair behind his ear, and relaxing chills spread down his entire body. He was getting hard again, but he was more exhausted than horny.

“I guess.” He yawned loudly. Tiredness dragged at him, which made no sense since he’d been asleep for hours.

“And your dreams punish you?” She sounded appalled.

“Yeah.”

“What do you dream about every night? What makes you cry?”

“A car accident,”

“That sounds scary. Do you get hurt?”

“Yeah, but it’s not really me. It’s someone else. Someone I don’t know.” Some emotion he didn’t want to explore settled like a stone in his gut. For the first time since Friday afternoon, he wondered what had happened to the driver of the Honda. He hoped the guy was okay. “It should have been me,” he muttered, thinking of Haley’s tears. “I’m an asshole. I deserve to get hurt.”

Gentle fingers stroked his scalp. He hummed a contented sigh, feeling ridiculously cared for. He really should try harder to change the dream. It was selfish to take this comfort when he didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. And I don’t want to see you hurt. How about you go back to sleep and I’ll watch over you and keep the nightmares away.”

I think she was watching over you, Dad. I like her. She seems nice.

A chill snaked over his skin. “I’m asleep already,” he said, yawning again. “This is just a dream.” A spooky, wonderful dream.

“Shhh. Go back to sleep. I’ll stay as long as I can.” She curled against his side, and he drew her close.

“Okay,” he said.

A second later, it seemed, his radio alarm woke him from a dead sleep. He tried to hit
snooze
, but something pinned his arm to the mattress. Why the hell was his room so dark? He couldn’t see shit. Oh yeah. Blinds.

“I got it.” A woman spoke by his ear. The weight lifted, and a second later the alarm shut off. The lamp clicked on, and he looked up into innocently beautiful blue eyes.

His dream girl.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m glad you got some peaceful sleep for a change.”

Chapter 7

Derek groggy and with sleep-flattened hair was the best thing DG had ever seen, and since her memory encompassed only three nights, she could say that with absolute certainty. The moment he blinked up at her in adorable confusion, she lost her heart completely.

Who knew what supernatural force had thrown them together or for what purpose, but she was glad it had. She wouldn’t have picked out a serious, aggressive man with a temper for a lover, especially one prone to seeking refuge from his problems in a bottle, but she didn’t regret being here with him. Derek had a loving heart, and he wanted to do right even if he missed the mark sometimes. Staying up late last night to hang curtains for Haley proved it.

She wanted to bring laughter and fun to his serious eyes. She wanted to fill his temperamental heart with love. Giving him some pleasure last night had been just the start. For as long as she would be allowed to visit him, she vowed to offer him the comfort, love, and pleasure he seemed to crave so much, even if he didn’t know how to ask for it.

Her smile started deep inside and made its way out to greet the man who had called her his dream girl and held her through the night, the man who had given her purpose.

He scrambled away from her until he fell off the far edge of his bed, taking the new comforter with him. He bounced up like a jack-in-the box, saying “Shit!” over and over again, until his hands wrapped around a wooden baseball bat propped in the corner. Pulling the bat back, he tangled it in the blinds and cursed some more as he took his gaze off her to detangle it from the buckled aluminum.

Panting and wild-eyed, he looked back at her. A flush crept up his cheeks. He abandoned his defensive posture, letting the bat slide in his grip until he held it relaxed by his side. “Probably overkill with the bat?”

She held back her laughter. “I’m betting you could take me without it. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. I’m not interested in hurting you, only doing nice things to you.”

He gulped, a large, muscle-bound man staring at her like a horny teenager unable to believe his luck. “I’m still dreaming.”

“Nope.”

“Shit.” He wiped a hand down his face, shut his eyes for a beat and reopened them as though expecting her to be gone. Of course she didn’t go anywhere, and she wouldn’t, not for another few minutes if the pattern of the last two mornings held. The alarm had gone off at 4:50, and she’d been yanked away the last two mornings in the minute or two before 5:00. She’d never caught even the barest hint of dawn. Would this morning be the same?

Please let me stay to see sunrise this morning,
she pleaded to whatever power was responsible for this weirdness.

Derek wiped a hand down his face again. “Shit.”

She grimaced. “Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Sorry. It’s all I got.” His face grew paler. Fear replaced the sleepiness in his eyes.

Okay, the guy was freaked. Not what she’d intended, but she could deal. She just needed to explain.

She folded her legs under her so she knelt in the middle of the bed, facing him. “Look, sorry if I scared you, but I’m no threat. Honest. I’ll even disappear if you want me to. All I have to do is get out of bed and
poof
, you won’t see me anymore. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to really talk to you in three days, and, I don’t have long, only a few more minutes, and, well, maybe I’m a little lonely. I was kind of hoping we could talk–I mean I know you probably have to get ready for work and all–I’m guessing it’s Monday. I don’t want to impose or anything. I just–”

Just what? Wanted to have breakfast with him? She couldn’t go sit at the kitchen table and sip coffee. With a sinking feeling, she realized she didn’t know what exactly she wanted from him. She had no right to expect anything of him. She was completely interrupting his life. Not to mention, she was a supernatural phenomenon he probably had one heck of a time trying to wrap his brain around.

When he continued staring at her, she blew out a breath and tried not to let the disappointment crush her. “Never mind. You’ve got to get to work.” Why else would he be getting up so early after less than four hours of sleep? “Look, I don’t know why, but I always show up here in your room after dark. And I always stay until five or so. And you can only see or hear me when I’m on the bed. I can’t even open doors or move things or pick up a stupid sock. Crazy, I know. But there it is. So, I’ll go now–” She couldn’t make an exit until the fog claimed her, but she could climb out of his bed and at least become invisible to him, give the guy a chance to reboot. “I’ll be back tonight, though. Probably.” She hoped. “Maybe we can talk then?”

Good grief, she sounded desperate. She was desperate–for company, for Derek’s affection, to understand what was happening to them and why–but she didn’t want to come across as burdensome.

“Only if you want,” she added.

His expression never changed. His eyes were still wide, his eyebrows still drawn together. The firm lips she’d nibbled and kissed earlier made a stony line.

She’d messed up big time. She was supposed to be his comfort, and here she’d upset him.

“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders slumped. She felt like a complete failure. She’d let her own agenda override good sense. Before she could make things any worse, she slipped off the opposite side of the bed.

With her heart shrinking into an embarrassed prune, she watched his eyes search the rumpled covers. He wiped his hand down his face again. “Too much fucking bourbon.” He grabbed some clothes out of the dresser, left the room, and pulled the door closed behind him, barring her from following.

“That went well,” she said with a sigh.

* * * *

The sun wasn’t up yet, but morning twilight lit the sky with a mellow blue. Humidity rested heavy against Derek’s skin as he walked to Brick and Mortar to retrieve his truck. Today would be a scorcher.

He gripped his Thermos in one hand and the insulated lunch bag Haley had given him for Father’s Day in the other. Amazingly, his head was clear despite the glasses of bourbon he’d sipped one after another last night, and despite a craptastic night of bad dreams and too little sleep.

Okay, the night hadn’t been all craptastic. He’d gotten to see his dream girl again. He’d gotten to hold and kiss her and come in her hands like an overeager kid. None of it had been real, of course–except the coming; he’d noticed the tissues on the floor in the morning and marveled that he’d been able to clean himself up in his sleep. But even if his dream girl hadn’t been real, dreaming about her had saved the night for him.

I don’t think you’re a bad person,
she’d said. She believed in him, helped him resist the urge to beat himself up over upsetting Haley or drinking too much.

Which was crazy. Literally crazy. He didn’t want to think too hard about the implications of imagining his dream girl waking up beside him this morning. His subconscious was obviously trying to deal with the car crash nightmares by overreacting with too much fantasy. Getting off in a dream about the woman was one thing, but imagining her in his bed even after his alarm had gone off, frigging talking with her–that was padded-room shit.

Unless she wasn’t imaginary.

Haley had seen something in his room. No, not something. Someone.

Someone with red hair, darker than Rebecca’s. Someone she thought had been watching over him.

A few years ago, he might have believed his little girl had made it up. But now? She was eleven going on socially-responsible seventeen. When they got serious, they talked about things like recycling and overpopulation in India and baking muffins with Deidre to take to the nursing home. She was a caring girl with a big heart and an outlook on life a few years ahead of her age group. Haley had better things to talk about than imaginary stuff.