Man of My Dreams Read online

  She runs over to us and pulls me down to her little mouth. She cups my ear in her tiny palm and whispers, “Daddy said ass.”

  I should probably reprimand her, but I can’t do anything but laugh. “Yes he did, baby. What do you think about that?”

  Declan looks at the both of us for a clue. “What? What did I do now?”

  Cara jumps on his lap and scratches her bitty nails against her daddy’s overgrown stubble. “Daddy, you’re an ass.”

  Declan’s eyes burst wide open and then dart to me.

  I shrug my shoulders, stifling a laugh. “Came straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  “Cara, baby, you’re right. Anyone who could stay away from you three gorgeous, wonderful girls this long is a big, ugly...butt!”

  Cara wrinkles her nose, leaning back to squint at Declan. “A butt is the same as a ass?” Great, she’s absorbed the new knowledge. She jumps down and runs over to a preoccupied Charlie, who has now taken over Cara’s favorite seat. “Charlie, get your ass off that chair it’s mine.”

  Wonderful...life is back to normal.

  My dad is awake when we get to the hospital. Declan wouldn’t hear of me handling this alone. And it was his idea to stop at the store on the way for a few of the daily newspapers and a couple of sports magazines. My mom must have grabbed some of his things from home because he’s wearing his dingy old Yankees cap that’s older than Derek Jeter. I sigh in relief at the sight of him. What a difference a day makes—his color is back and he looks much better.

  “Hi, Daddy.” I choke out, gulping back tears. As good as he looks, my father doesn’t belong in a hospital bed. He’s always been invincible to me. Seeing him here is the equivalent to witnessing kryptonite doing its evil magic on Superman.

  “Hey, sweet pea. I’m so happy to see you. Both of you.” My dad sends a wink in Declan’s direction. He truly is the son he never had. And even during the separation, my dad remained one of Declan’s biggest fans. Sure he wanted to rip his head off for hurting his little girl, but I guess they shared some kind of guy code thing. Maybe he understood what Declan was going through too and wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know. But I’m glad he didn’t decide to beat the crap out of him the way he had offered when he first found out. It was inevitable that we would find our way back to each other and an altercation between the two most important men in my life would have made things awkward going forward.

  “Hey, Dad. How you feeling today?” I still loved hearing Declan him call him that. My dad insisted on it on our wedding day. “No more of this Mr. P. crap. I’m Dad from now on, son.”

  My mom jumps in to give us the itinerary. Being in charge is how she handles these things. “The doctors say he’s doing much better than they had expected. They still have to do the carotid artery surgery. But they’re hopeful that can be done in a few more days. Until then all he can do is rest and it’s already killing him to sit put. The man’s going to put me in an early grave.”

  Dad may look almost back to himself, but Mom has seen better days. She has dark circles under her usually flawlessly, made-up eyes. She’s in a velour sweat suit and sneakers. She never leaves the house in sneakers unless it’s to go to the gym.

  Declan must notice the atypical appearance of my mother too. “Ma, why don’t you take a break? Get some rest. We can babysit for a while.”

  I get my stubbornness from my mother. There is no way she’s taking him up on the offer. But it was cute of Declan to try.

  “Nonsense. Sleep is for the weak. Besides, he won’t admit it but he needs me here. He’s a big baby, the nurses know it too.” She tucks my father’s blanket in now, coddling him the way she always has. Dad’s lips jerk up in a content smile. He does love this. These two are notorious for making their little jabs at each other, but you couldn’t find a couple more in love.

  When she leans over to kiss him on one of his dimples, dad frames her face with his rough, aging hands. “Lucy, I love you, but you look like hell. Let the kids take a shift. I’ll be okay without you for a little while.”

  She perks up like a soldier at attention looking a little miffed. “I do not look like hell and I’m not leaving this hospital! I’ll just go in the visitors’ lounge for a bit, make a few calls. Declan, your mom and dad called late last night but the nurses were taking his vitals. I’m sure you’ve spoken to them, but I’ll call back now. So sweet of them to worry.”

  Declan hands my mom her phone from the bedside table. “When this guy’s feeling better the four of you should make plans for dinner. Mom’s been meaning to mention it. I think she’s just been too busy obsessing over Connor’s new girlfriend. He thinks he loves her but mom’s nervous she won’t measure up to Mia. I told her she was crazy to think anyone could.”

  Dad interrupts, “Damn straight. She hit the daughter-in-law jackpot with my little girl. Maybe Mia could give Connor’s lady a few lessons.”

  What the hell is happening here? If I hadn’t known better, I would think my dad and Declan had planned this whole charade. Butter me up to erase all my worry about dad’s health and my husband’s departure. These two were sly sometimes. I wouldn’t put it past them.

  “Okay, you two. Enough! We’re here to ogle over dad, not me. Mom, on your way out can you have one of the nurses come in to go over everything with me. I want to know firsthand what’s ahead. I can’t trust anyone to tell me the truth. You’re too busy protecting me all the time.”

  Sure, I had a habit of pointing out how I didn’t need protecting or how in control I was. But I hadn’t felt in control of anything since Declan dropped the bomb. And now, dealing with the news of dad’s not-so-perfect health—is there anything I can control these days?

  I don’t like to let fate handle things. I want total power over everything in my life. But as I get older, I’ve come to the realization that sometimes, no matter how much you plot and strategize, life has other plans. There is no way to manipulate the actions of others, the coincidences of chance. The only thing I can control is me and knowing this makes me want to smother Declan, the kids, my parents with all the love I have to give. Life is too damn short for all the other nonsense.

  I stop my mom before she leaves to make her calls, “Mom?”

  “What’s up, honey?” she answers from the door.

  I suddenly feel silly, but I shouldn’t be embarrassed to let them know what I feel. “I love you, Mom. You too, Dad.” I focus my attention on the stunning man to my left, reaching for his hand. “And you.”

  There’s an unmistakable glisten in Declan’s eyes. Could those be tears? “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. I love you too, babe. Always have, always will.”

  Who would’ve thought that making out with your husband could get this heated?

  “Shh, babe. The kids.”

  Usually I’m the one worried about waking the kids, but tonight I shock myself by throwing caution out the second story window. I get up from the already rumpled bed and lock the door. That’ll buy us a few minutes in case one of them decides to wander down the hall.

  I tip toe, back to the bed, stripping along the way. Declan sits up, leaning against the powder blue upholstered headboard, bare-chested. Oh my. I’ve missed this visual. His muscles flex in anticipation, making the view that much more enticing. Stupid me—I’d fallen victim to not realizing what I’d had until it was gone.

  Declan stares at me the way he used to when he was still a virgin, practically drooling. “Mia, you look amazing. Have you been working out?”

  Ha! That’s hilarious. Doesn’t he know me better? I should tell him I have been, but that would be a blatant lie. I guess I’d finally lost those last few extra pounds I couldn’t shed since Charlie was born. Seems running myself ragged and grieving over the marriage I thought was over has that kind of effect.

  I don’t want to think about why I look like this. It will lead to conversation and ruin the mood. I decide to play the modesty card. “Would you stop it, Dec?
You’re making me blush.”

  He inches to the foot of the bed on his knees, never taking his eyes off my body. When he reaches me, he pulls me against his firm chest—beautiful proof that he does work out. His warm hands travel slowly from my neck, following the curve of my back like they are savoring every inch of what he’s missed. His fingers linger at the waistline of my panties. “I love that I can still make you blush. Let’s see what else I can still do to you.”

  Now he’s talking.

  I don’t even try to resist. I knew we’d end up in our bed the minute I asked him to come back and part of me hates myself for being so eager. So willing to forget the pain he caused. The doubt he planted in my brain. But feeling his hands on my needy body, his lips against my deprived skin, it’s too late to listen to my hesitant subconscious.

  Declan’s sweet kisses come to a halt; his hands pause on their journey into my panties. “Mia, baby, is this okay?”

  Maybe my subconscious is louder than I thought.

  This is my chance to stop him, but goddamn me if it feels right to be almost making love to my husband. I’ve missed him, he’s obviously missed me. Is that enough? I want to believe it is.

  So I do.

  “Yes, Declan. It’s okay. I want you to make love to me.”

  He pulls me down on top of him, claiming my mouth with his. “Good, because there was no way I was going to be able to stop.”

  We fall into a familiar rhythm but, so help me God, there is something incredibly different about the way we move together tonight. In his mind I’m sure he’s trying to make up for everything by being extra attentive, but all I can think about is how perfect we fit together. I know he feels it too. Something this strong cannot be denied.

  “Oh, Mia. I love you so much.” He whispers in my ear as I encourage his hips to move with mine.

  It feels good to hear him say this, it’s the sweet reminder I need. I bring my mouth to his, complimenting the ravenous rocking of our joined bodies with a hungry kiss.

  Declan groans against my mouth, “Fuck! I’ve missed this, baby. You’re driving me insane.”

  And that is just the extra push I need to really set things in motion.

  My back is against the headboard, our bodies connected in a sitting position. I push him down onto the mattress, suspended over him, finally in control. He clutches my hips, guiding me up and down over him. His hands make a sensual voyage up to my breasts, groping handfuls, then focusing on my hardened nipples. I arch my back at the familiar touch of his fingers, grinding my hips more intensely to try and relieve the ache of the throbbing between my legs.

  He’s brought me to orgasm multiple times just by using his hands and my breasts, but tonight I want to come apart together. And a few more seconds of this delicious torture will not allow that to happen. I pivot myself, still managing to keep him inside me, so that he has a full view of my naked back as I ride him. He’s always loved this position and I am more than happy to oblige. Tonight is about reconnecting, reiterating the things that make each other happy. And from the sounds of Declan’s throaty growls I’ve done my job of reminding him that this stay-at-home wife and mother can still drive him wild.

  A spiraling build-up burns deep in my belly as I feel him tense up inside of me, readying for the release we both need. He finds the strength to sit up behind me, wrapping his arms around my pulsating body as the climax washes away any inkling of doubt. “I love you, baby. Thank you for letting me show you. I love you and I never want to let you go.”

  But he has to let me go because he has to leave again. I can’t help but wonder if his words are fueled by the heated passion we just shared or if this is actually his heart talking, reassuring me that I am all he needs. I don’t want to ruin our night by asking, so instead I remain quiet, basking in this moment as husband and wife.

  I’ll have a month to mull over what this reunion means. My heart believes this is the end of all the worry and the beginning of where we were supposed to be all along.

  Organized Chaos is finishing up their set with a killer rendition of Kryptonite and Declan is nowhere to be found. My eyes scan the Alibi for him, but I’m blinded by pulsing strobe lights and pumping fists.

  Tonight marks the two-year anniversary of our very first date and my boyfriend has left me sitting here with a beer and a buzz. Where the hell are you, Declan? I’m starting to get annoyed.

  The beer buzz gets the better of me and I make my way into the crowd to dance to the head-bopping sound. I close my eyes and sing along to the chorus.

  The rest of the song, complete with a screech of the title, is shouted in my ear by a very familiar voice. My eyes flash open and I’m floored by what, or rather who, I see. “Grace? What the hell are you doing here?”

  She sways her hips and moves her head from side to side, answering me with more lyrics about picking me up and putting me back on solid ground.

  She’s right, but still, what the hell is she doing here?

  “Hello to you too, chicky!” She pulls me in for a tight hug and I melt into my best friend’s embrace.

  I back away, still reeling from her out-of-the-blue appearance. “Seriously, Grace. What…”

  She interrupts me repeating the million dollar question. “Monday’s class was cancelled. Professor went into labor last night. Three day weekend. I missed you!” She speaks her explanation while bopping up and down to the music. This is one of her favorite songs.

  I drag her off the dance floor, into the booth I was sharing with Declan—still no sight of him—and push her down into the dulling, cracked vinyl. “You drove all this way? Unannounced? How did you know I’d be here?”

  She glares at me with one eye-brow arched, giving me her best what-you-talkin’-bout-Willis face. “It’s your two year anniversary with Mr. Wonderful. I knew where you’d be. Give me some credit, Mia.”

  So she left campus, alone, to intrude on my supposed romantic evening. Something is not adding up. “This smells fishy, Grace. In fact it reeks, so what’s up?” Again I inspect the bathroom exits, the sweaty crowd, the bar for my boyfriend. “And where the hell is Declan?”

  Grace takes my chin between her two manicured fingers and turns my head to the direction of the stage.

  At the sight of Declan in the spotlight, wearing a white v-neck t-shirt, navy blue corduroy blazer, and faded ripped denim, my jaw drops wide open. Two years ago he shocked me by gracing this stage. Tonight he takes my breath away.

  He shades his eyes from the glare of the spotlight to peer out over the crowd, looking for me. His free hand remains in his pocket.

  Oh my God, how did he manage to get sexier from the time he excused himself from the booth until now? I reluctantly remove my eyes from him to look at Grace. Her audacious smirk is wiped clean off her face, replaced by a nervous gnawing of her bottom lip.

  I block her out and focus my attention on Declan again. What is he doing up there this time? And why do I have the haunting suspicion that there is no coincidence between Grace being here and whatever is about to unfold?

  “The two of you planned this, you sneaky witch?”

  She doesn’t say a word. She only winks before she plops down in her seat, chugging down the rest of my beer.

  There is a test tap and the piercing sound of feedback before Declan brings the mic to his mouth. “Um…hi, everyone. Hope you’re enjoying your evening.”

  The crowd doesn’t hesitate to reply with deep hoots and deafening whistles. One of Declan’s friends bellows out, “Yeah, Romeo!” Laughter takes over the mob and as I search the faces, a few familiar ones pop out at me.

  Declan’s roommate, Carl, is arm and arm with his girlfriend, Stephanie. Stephanie waves in my direction. The four of us have become semi-close through what started out as forced double dates.

  Behind them are two of our study partners from the history class we took together last semester. Our study groups turned into late night chill-outs and soon turned us into good friends. Ray and Jade catch me in
a confused stare and wink, knowingly.

  But the dead give-away that something is most definitely not kosher is the attendance of my introvert of a roommate, Whitney, and her anti-social boyfriend. Michael hides his head in a pilsner at the bar, as Whitney leans up against the stool beside him. She flips me the bird and I laugh. I know she’s not happy about being dragged out to a place like this, but the trace of a smile on her dark red lips lets me know she’s here to support whatever the hell is about to take place.

  Declan’s voice comes booming over the sound system, breaking me of my silent wonderings. “I’m sure most of you are wondering why the music’s stopped and what I’m doing up here.” He fiddles with whatever is in his pocket, concentrating on me and me alone.

  “I’ll get to the point so everyone can get on with their night.” He looks down at his feet, rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes. Why is he so nervous? He’s been up there before.

  “Two years ago tonight, I stood up here and sang to that stunning girl over there.” He points to me as the crowd draws out an awwww in unison and miraculously, or deliberately, the spotlight is pointed on me. Thank God it’s only for a second. I think I just died a little of embarrassment.

  Declan becomes the center of attention again and continues, “That night I told her how much I wanted her. But now that she’s fulfilled every want I’ve ever had, it’s time for me to tell her just how much I need her.”

  My heart is drumming so loudly I can barely make out what Declan is saying, but when I see him get down on one knee, removing his hand from his pocket to produce something very shiny, I don’t need to hear any words.

  “Mia Page, I’ve spent the last two years getting to know you and falling in love with everything about you. Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you…as your husband?”

  All of my breath is trapped in my throat. I feel lightheaded and my brain won’t let my body do anything.