Man of My Dreams Read online

It’s not that the effort isn’t there. I try every chance I can to get a piece of my husband. Declan is gorgeous. Tall, broad, and muscular. Jet black hair that sometimes falls casually against his forehead and crystal-blue eyes to match the ones he’d given his daughters. He’s a catch and I’m reminded of that, often. I’ve even gotten used to being asked by former co-workers or PTA moms how I managed to land such a stud. Yup, I’ve been asked that. Multiple times. It doesn’t bother me anymore. But on occasion, when I don’t like the way the person is eyeing my man, I’ll tell them it’s my kinky bedroom skills that won him over.

  As if his incredible looks weren’t enough, the man has a heart of gold. Compassionate, attentive, and loving, he stole my heart on our very first date. And every day, I’m reminded of how lucky I am when I see what a good father he is to our girls. Although I hate to admit it, sometimes I get upset that those little rascals absorb a lot of the love that was once focused solely on me. I never thought I’d be jealous of my own daughters, but there are times when I secretly wish that I could have him as wrapped around my pinky as Cara and Charlie do.

  I smile at my tired reflection in the mirror, realizing that I am in desperate need of a revamping before my hottie comes home tonight. Maybe an impromptu blow-out and a mani-pedi with the girls? Of course, that’s if they feel like cooperating. As I think about my day of pampering, I’m suddenly eager to be wrapped in Declan’s arms. Tonight can’t come quick enough.

  “Moooommmmmyyyyy.”

  “I’m coming, ladies.” I grumble and whine the whole way downstairs as I am suddenly reminded of the fact that it’s not even seven in the morning. I’m not prepared. I didn’t have enough sleep for this. The breakfast mess, the midmorning snack mess, followed by the lunch mess, the after-lunch snack mess and the dinner mess. The fact that all my kids do is graze like cattle throughout the day is physically, mentally and monetarily exhausting.

  I walk into the kitchen, see the girls’ mismatched table setting and smile. And just like every other day, all the disgruntlement melts away. “You girls did such a nice job!” Then I do my best impression of a grizzly bear, “But where’s my breakfast? I’m hungry!” I lunge at them with makeshift claws, roaring and chomping in their directions.

  They run around the circular kitchen table while I chase them, their messy blond curls flying in the wind, their contagious laughter echoing throughout the house. “Stop, Mommy, stop! Don’t eat us!”

  I catch Charlie, and lift up her pajama top to reveal her squishy belly. She wriggles beneath my kisses, squealing.

  “You look yummy, little girl. Just one bite?” I growl.

  “No, no! Pwease! Stop!”

  Cara throws an arm in front of my mouth, “Wait! I bigger, bite me, not baby Charlotte. She won’t taste good—she only eats waffles and cheese!”

  I stop mid bear-bite and gawk at Cara. “Sweetie, that was so nice. You were willing to be eaten to save your baby sister?”

  Charlie takes advantage of the diversion and weasels her way off my lap, hiding behind her big sister.

  “Duh! I have to befend her.”

  Was I just duhhed by my three and a half year old? I smirk at her adorable mistake, “Defend, baby, with a D. But you’re right. You are the best big sister any girl could ask for. Right, Charlie?”

  Charlie squeezes Cara around her middle. “I wove you, Ca.”

  “I love you too. With an L, right Mommy?”

  “Right, baby. Very good.” I stick my head out from the freezer, holding the mini waffles they’ve been adamant on making their only choice for breakfast for the last three months. “Hey, you girls want to get your nails done today?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” They both shout in unison.

  “Okay, good. After breakfast and some rest time, we’ll have a special girlie day. Daddy comes home tonight so we’ll be all pretty for him.”

  I pop their waffles in the toaster and reach for a coffee mug, but I’m halted from my caffeine fix by the sound of the phone ringing. It can only be one of two people, my mother or Declan. No one else would call here this early. I run to catch it, see the caller ID and smile.

  I try my best sultry, seductive voice. “Hey, baby. Cutting the trip short to get home for a romantic night with your wife?”

  “Hi, Mia. You’re awfully chipper this morning. And you won’t believe it, but I have to stay another night. Something’s come up…the client wasn’t happy with the presentation and Robert wants another shot to impress them. I pulled an all nighter and we have another meeting in an hour.”

  You’re flipping kidding, right? “Oh, okay.” I want it to be okay, but it’s not. He’s been gone five days already. We miss him and I need a reprieve. “Is everyone staying? I mean, is there a way you can tell him you’re needed here?” Needed as in, I’m horny and I miss my husband.

  “No, babe. I’m sorry. He’s not budging on this one. I tried. Listen, I can’t talk long. Can I just say hi to the girls?”

  Dismissive much? “Yup, no problem.” I turn to the girls, handing them the phone. “Girls, Daddy wants to say hi.”

  I watch as they each take turns, laughing and smiling into the phone. I see their little eyebrows droop and the happy twinkling in their eyes vanish when he tells them he won’t be home tonight. Yeah, girls, I know. But at the end of their conversations, all is right in daddy-daughter land because they are mauling the phone with kisses and I-love-yous.

  I take back the phone, jealous of two little girls again for getting the better part of his attention. I get back to Declan, graciously, “‘kay, babe, kick ass in your meeting. I love you.”

  “Me too. I’ll call you later.”

  And then I hear the click.

  Me too? I don’t even deserve the ‘I love you’ back? He’s never done that before. I’m not happy. I grab my cell to text him, but the rational part of my brain kicks in, realizing that’s probably not a good idea. If he’s as busy as he says he is, he won’t be able to answer me back, let alone go through with an all out texting war. Because let’s face it, feeling let down and disappointed, I’m ready for a brawl.

  “Hey, aren’t you in my psychology class?”

  I glance over my shoulder to see who this unfamiliar voice belongs to only to come face to face with one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on. And there are plenty of gorgeous guys to take your pick from on campus. I would have definitely noticed if this guy was in my psychology class. Hell, he’d be more than in my psychology class, he’d be in my pants.

  My crude thoughts cause me to blush. I tuck a few errant hairs behind my ear, peering up through batting lashes. “Um, no, I don’t think so?” Not sure why it’s coming out as a question.

  “You’re Mia, right? I know you from somewhere.”

  Oh my God, those eyes. I want to agree with him just so he’ll stay put and stare at me like that a little longer. But I’m not about to start this off with lies. “Yes, I’m Mia, but I’m certain I’ve never seen you before.” I give him another once over, hoping it reads as I’ve never seen you, but I’d love to see more of you.

  “Mind if I pull up a chair, Mia?”

  “I would love that…” I trail off, hoping he’ll put a name to his flawless face.

  “Declan. Sorry, my name’s Declan.”

  Mmmm. Even his name is delicious. I’ve never heard of a Declan before, but it’s so different. So intriguing. So sexy.

  He sits next to me at our hidden table in the library, and my roommate, Whitney, eyes me knowingly. “I’m pretty much done here. I’m heading back to the dorms. Catch you later?”

  “Sure thing, Whitney.” I discreetly wink over my shoulder, promising to fill her in on all the details later.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting your studying, but when I saw you here I just couldn’t ignore you.” He’s leaning against his chair, one arm hung nonchalantly over the back. But there is nothing nonchalant about the way his eyes are roaming me.

  “You’re not interrupting, Declan.”
Wow, I really like saying his name! “And I wasn’t really studying, more like wasting time.” I’d rather be wasting time with you than with Introduction to Ethics.

  “Well then I’m glad I got up the nerve to finally come talk to you.”

  “Finally?”

  He looks down at his hands; they’re mangled together in knots. Oh my goodness, he’s nervous. How cute. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’ve wanted to talk to you since I spotted you at orientation.”

  I can’t hide my surprise at his admission. My voice goes an octave too high, “Since orientation? Last year? It took you a whole year to build up the nerve to talk to me?” I feel bad for sounding so amused, but really, a year? I’m nothing special. I can’t believe he’s been pining over me that long.

  “No,” he flashes a smile.

  I melt.

  “Not since last year. Since last month. I’m a freshman. I take it you’re not?”

  Hello stupid mouth, how do you like the taste of my foot? I should’ve known a guy as hot as this one wouldn’t have waited around a whole year to talk to someone like me! For the first time since the start of this conversation I’m the one who’s nervous. “Oh…I…I just assumed you were a sophomore too. I’m sorry.”

  He laughs, tilting his head back and brushing back a piece of his dark, wavy hair with his large hands. “Nothing to be sorry about. I get that a lot. I guess I won’t have a problem getting into the local bars then.”

  How could he have a problem getting in anywhere? “No, no…probably not.” I am practically stammering, and decide to change the subject to gain back some control. “So, Declan the freshman, what made today different than the last thirty?”

  He leans closer to me, and any prayer of being in control in such close proximity to this beautiful boy is out the damn window. “I decided I was tired of not knowing you anymore. There was this voice in my head telling me I have to get to know you.”

  Okay, either that’s his pick up line or he’s just the sweetest thing alive. And the voices in his head—kudos to them. “Oh really? Well, what is the voice in your head telling you now?” I arch an eyebrow, hoping this voice is on the same page I’m on.

  He leans back in his chair, devouring me with his eyes again. “It’s telling me to ask you out.”

  I force myself to take a mental step back. I’ve spent the last year messing around with random nobodies in the hopes of sowing my oats and enjoying my freedom. But Declan and his delicious offer have me uncharacteristically hoping for all the things I never thought I wanted at my age. A steady boyfriend to cuddle during movies with, to lounge around and study with, to hold hands with…to fall in love with.

  “Well? Are you going to leave me hanging all day? Or maybe make me wait another month?” Declan interrupts my silent fairytale imaginings with a coy grin, one corner of his delectable mouth turned upward.

  “Declan, I don’t know you from Adam, but I can’t bring myself to say no.”

  “So is that a yes?” His ice-blue eyes are wide, sparkling with excitement.

  On our first date, five days later, Declan takes me to The Alibi, an off-campus lounge-type place that hosts open mic nights and live bands. Luckily for us, they also accommodate the underage crowd. He couldn’t have known it, but this is exactly my type of scene. Tonight there’s a cover band playing their own interpretations of everything ranging from the hits of the ‘80s to Pearl Jam and Matchbox Twenty.

  Declan ushers me to a booth with a clear shot of the stage. We order drinks and fries, and I tap my foot, singing along to Rick Springfields’s Jesse’s Girl. Declan excuses himself from the table and my guess is he’s headed to the men’s room. But when I see him over at the stage, talking to one of the band members, I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to. He looks over at me with a devilish grin and a raised index finger, signaling that he’ll be a minute.

  The next thing I know, Declan’s on stage with the mic in his hand, peering down at me with a shy smile.

  Is this really happening?

  The lead singer of the band tilts the mic to his mouth to make an announcement. “I’m gonna rest my pipes for the next set while my man Declan takes over. Seems like Dec wants to make a special first impression tonight. Take it away, buddy.”

  Declan rolls his eyes and fake punches the lead singer in the gut. I guess they’re friends. The band starts to play. The drum beat is sensual, mesmerizing. After a bar or two, Declan starts to sing and all I hear are the words, I want you…you make me want you. He repeats them again, staring right at me.

  Oh. My. God.

  This is one of my favorite songs, and as sexy as the lead singer is when he sings this, Declan blows him away. And he’s singing it about me! I lose track of all reality as his raspy voice takes me away. Hearing him sing the words I want you makes my heart skip a beat. This is the best first date ever! I wouldn’t mind it being my last first date either.

  When he’s finished making me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, the mass of rowdy boys and swooning girls cheer, mobbing Declan with high-fives. He makes his way back to our table and sits down as if nothing’s happened.

  I stare at him in disbelief.

  He takes a sip of his Diet Coke and says nothing.

  “Seriously, dude? Are you kidding?” I pinch his arm, deflating back into the booth.

  “What?” he says with a wicked grin.

  “What? So that’s how we’re playing this? Okay, I’ll just come out and say it then…um, amazing. That was amazing, Declan. No one has ever done something like that for me before.”

  “Who said I was doing it for you?” he arches an eyebrow.

  I slap his arm this time, tilting my head as if to say “really?”

  “I’m kidding, Mia. But not about what I said up there. I definitely want you.”

  I motion to the waitress to get us the check.

  Declan narrows his eyes, grimacing. “Check? Is our date over?”

  I lean over the table and give Declan an inviting, pre-game peck on his soft lips. “Date’s definitely not over. But can we get out of here? I kind of want you too.”

  We escape the loudness of The Alibi in to a brisk, beautiful October night. I love the fall, the way the weather starts to cool, foreshadowing all the things that I love about the last three months of the year; winter and the holidays and the way they spark a kind of innocent magic that I’ll never outgrow.

  Declan takes my hand in his, entwining our fingers together. His touch sparks something, but it’s not innocence. The simple gesture is sweet, but after the way he just serenaded me, sweet isn’t going to cut it. I don’t want him to think I’m some slut ready to give it up to him on our first date, we hardly know each other. But God help me for not wanting to reciprocate his sweet, gentle wooing. I want him to kiss me with the same eager desire that gleamed in his penetrating eyes when he sang those words to me.

  As we walk in silence, hand in hand, to the bus stop where the shuttle back to campus picks us up, I can’t control my devilish musings. Whitney won’t be back at the dorm tonight, and I intend on asking Declan to come up and continue our date. My turn to show him how much I want him.

  “You’re awfully quiet. What’re you thinking about, huh?” Declan’s free hand tips my chin up so my eyes meet his.

  I’m almost positive that all of my secret intentions spill out through my dilated, fiery gaze, so I lower my eyes, taking in how perfectly my hand fits inside his.

  “I’m thinking about what a great time I had and how I don’t want it to end just yet. It’s still kind of early. Want to watch a movie back at the dorms?” Step one: get him in the room. Step two, and all the rest, will come later.

  “I’d love that. But I kind of want to take care of something first.” He drops my hand from his, leaving it cold and lonely without his fingers wrapped around mine.

  I look up into his eyes; the blue glistens with tiny gold specks illuminated by the street lamps. They’re not focused on min
e; they’re paying very close attention to my mouth. I lick my lips, as if to extinguish the flames that his scorching stare has ignited.

  He leans forward. This is it! But instead he takes a few strands of my hair, playing with them, flipping them through his fingers. Come on! You can’t come that close just to touch my hair, you tease. I want to move in and take matters into my own hands, but I also want Declan to possess control of our first kiss. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the way it feels to watch a guy lean in and tilt his head, the anticipation of his lips melding to mine for the very first time. The thought of watching Declan do this sends thrilling tingles fluttering through my stomach.

  But he hasn’t taken the usual stance a guy takes before going in for the kill. He’s backing away, hesitant, almost nervous even. I take a step closer. Maybe he needs help, or more proof that what I want more than anything is to be kissed. By him.

  He doesn’t lean down and tilt his head; he brings his hands up to my face, his thumbs caressing my blush burned cheeks. I close my eyes to savor the smooth, amorous touch, taking it all in, and then I finally feel the connection of his lips on mine.

  They’re soft and just moist enough to make me want more. His tongue pokes through my puckered pout, forcing a slow, delicious entrance. I part my lips to give into his sweet intrusion, and his tongue explores my mouth with slow circles and flicks. He pulls back, grazing the tip of my tongue ever so slightly with his own. That’s when I can’t control it anymore.

  My hands reach up to bury themselves in his hair and I deepen the kiss by pulling him closer. My tongue caresses his with a building hunger. I pause from the stroking to trail my tongue across his top lip. In response he nibbles my lower lip with his teeth before capturing it with a subtle suck. This is hands down the best first kiss I have ever had. Ever!

  We go on like this for what seems like hours under the ashy moonlight and shallow thumping of the music we left behind, alternating between slow, tender pecks and more intense groping. The sound of the bus pulling up at the curb is what finally breaks us away from each other.