Chapter Fourteen
Late September – San Francisco
“I look ridiculous. This is way too much makeup. And I swear I’m going to break an ankle in these shoes. I’m warning you, Jules – you’re going to have great big ugly bunions in less than five years if you keep wearing these things.”
Julia sighed. “Can’t you just deal with it for one night? You look amazing, Lauren, and there is no way I’m letting you wear jeans and boots tonight. I want to have a fancy dinner party, and you’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t cooperate. Tell you what. We’ll ask Nathan what he thinks.”
Lauren made a rude noise. “Gee, let me guess. I’d say the way he constantly drools over your tight skirts and stilettos means that he’ll approve. And tell me again why you’re so fixated on having this be a dress-up party. Why couldn’t we just order in some good Chinese food and a few six packs of imported beer?”
Julia shuddered delicately. “First, because your idea and mine of “good” Chinese food would be worlds apart. Second, you know I don’t drink beer. Neither do Travis or Anton. And I can’t say for sure about Ian but I’d be shocked if he did. Wait until you meet him, Lauren. I swear if I hadn’t met Nathan first, I’d be making a serious move on Ian.”
“Does Nathan know about this?” teased Lauren. “How much is it worth to keep your secret? Like, maybe swapping out these heels for some flats?”
Julia shook her head. “No way. Especially since I don’t own any flats. At least none that I’d ever allow you to wear with that dress. And Nathan would never take you seriously. He knows I’m crazy about him. Now hold on. You’ve already smudged your eyeliner. Stop rubbing your eye or I’ll smack you.”
“I’d like to see you try,” challenged Lauren, but she stood obediently still while her sister grabbed an eyeliner pencil – she figured Julia had a couple of dozen of them – and went to work repairing her makeup.
She’d allowed herself to be talked into attending this dinner party at her sister’s flat during a weak moment. These past few weeks had been rough ones for her, and she was looking forward to hanging out with her sister and their best friend Angela for a few days. Not that being with Angie was going to do a damned thing to cheer her up, given the deep depression her girlhood friend had sunk into over the past few years. But maybe focusing on someone else’s sorrow, and trying to cheer them up, would help her to forget her own problems.
Problems. Lauren scoffed at the very idea. Normally, she simply did not allow herself to have problems. All her life she’d been able to bully, argue, bluff, or charm her way out of anything that could have remotely been perceived as a problem. She had a near-perfect life, should have been happy and content with the way it had all turned out.
Except that she hadn’t been truly happy for more than five years now. And any sense of contentment she might have known had disappeared the moment Ben Rafferty had unexpectedly re-entered her life almost a year ago.
After that awful scene in his office several weeks ago, she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. During the trip to Utah – which had actually been more enjoyable that she had expected – she’d relied on the other members of her temporary crew to check in with headquarters. And since her assignment in Utah had ended a full week before her regular crew’s trip to Brazil, she had flown directly to San Francisco a few days ago. She had arranged to participate in the planning session for their next assignment via video chat, and for once Ben hadn’t argued the point. Thankfully, she had a longer than normal break coming up, and wouldn’t have to see Ben the Bastard until early November. And maybe by then she’d stop hurting all over, as though she had tumbled down the side of a cliff and ripped her flesh to shreds while breaking every bone in her body at the same time.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Lauren gave herself a little shake, forcing herself out of the funk she tended to slip into all too frequently these days.
“I’m fine,” she assured Julia, squeezing her sister’s hand reassuringly. “Except that my feet already hurt in these stupid shoes, and I look like a clown with all of this makeup.”
Julia slid an arm around her twin’s waist and urged her to look at their reflections in the full length mirror mounted to the inside door of the bedroom closet. “Do I look like a clown?”
Lauren studied her sister’s gorgeous, perfectly made up face – the big green eyes expertly shadowed and lined; the high, sculpted cheekbones emphasized with a discreet application of blusher; her full lips glossed over in a bold shade of red.
“No,” replied Lauren a bit sullenly.
Julia gave her a little squeeze. “Well, considering that you and I look exactly the same – and since I’m wearing more makeup than you are – then if I don’t look like a clown you can’t possibly look that way, either.”
“Fine.” Lauren threw up her hands in surrender. “We both look hot. Maybe we should try to fool Nathan, make him think I’m you. Remember how we almost fooled Sam once?”
“It was this close to working, and then you had to ruin it all by laughing,” recalled Julia. “But you won’t be able to fool Nathan so easily. He, ah, knows me a little more intimately than Sam ever did, and, well - ”
“Yeah, yeah. TMI, sis,” warned Lauren. “Now, if you’ve finished dressing me up like a Barbie doll, I could really use a drink.”
Julia laughed. “You look much hotter than any Barbie doll I ever had. And why do my things always look better on you than they do on me?”
The sisters were the same height, and had almost identical builds, though Julia carried about five extra pounds and was softer and curvier than the leanly muscled Lauren. And while Lauren did have some nice things of her own – dresses, skirts, silk blouses, heels – she kept most of that stuff at Aunt Maddy’s apartment. Julia had wrinkled her nose in distaste when she’d seen the contents of Lauren’s duffle bag, all of it casual and far more suited to the rock climbing and white water rafting she’d done in Utah than attending a fancy dinner party.
Lauren supposed the outfit her sister had bullied her into wearing looked nice. Certainly the blush pink Alexander McQueen corset dress and nude Manolo Blahnik patent leather stiletto sandals looked expensive, classy, and sexy at the same time. She gave herself a wry smile to realize she’d pretty much described Julia’s entire wardrobe with those three words.
Nathan emitted a low whistle as the twins emerged from the bedroom. He was just uncorking a bottle of champagne, and filled three flutes before handing two of them to the girls.
“To the two loveliest ladies in San Francisco,” he toasted gallantly. “And before you ask, Lauren – yes, I can definitely tell you apart so don’t try and prank me.”
Lauren smirked at him. “Aw. Spoilsport. But no worries. I don’t think Julia would have been too happy if you’d really mixed us up. She was never thrilled about sharing her toys with me, were you, sis?”
Julia scowled. “Maybe that’s because my dolls and stuffed animals usually wound up being beheaded, dismembered, or otherwise maimed. And Nathan isn’t a toy.”
Nathan slid an arm around her waist and nuzzled the side of her neck. “Ah, but you do like to play with me, don’t you?”
“Ugh.” Lauren grimaced as the two of them began to canoodle right in front of her. “I hope you two don’t plan on making out all night, especially since you’re expecting company any minute now. Ah, saved by the bell.”
The first guests to arrive were Julia’s boss – and Nathan’s business partner – Travis Headley and his significant other Anton Nguyen. Lauren had met Travis back in June during a lunch out with Julia. That momentous lunch had also been the first time she had met Nathan, and she had quite deliberately baited him with the announcement that she was taking Julia out clubbing to troll for hot guys. Nathan had been almost seething with barely suppressed rage, had tracked them down at a club the following evening, and then basically claimed Julia as his own. He’d promptly broken off his engagement to his former fiancée, and had wasted little time in letting everyone know that he and Julia were now together.
It had occurred to Lauren more than once that perhaps she should have employed similar tactics with Ben. Oh, he had certainly witnessed her playful flirting with any number of other men, but everyone knew that she didn’t have anyone serious in her life. What would his reaction had been if he’d been led to believe she actually did have a new, steady boyfriend?
But she hadn’t wanted to resort to tricks or innuendoes to get Ben back. He’d made his choice, and had chosen to stay with Elle. She was probably good for him, reasoned Lauren, provided him with stability and calm, things that Lauren wouldn’t be able to offer. She was admittedly wild and impulsive, had trouble sitting still or staying in one place for very long. And while Ben had told her very little about his childhood, she knew he had been a loner most of his life. Perhaps with Elle he’d finally found what he had been missing all these years – a stable home, a regular routine, the promise of a family one day.
And then, because the very thought of Ben one day marrying Elle and having children together filled her with unbearable sadness, she bolted down her flute of champagne, refilled it, and breezed over to greet Travis and Anton.
Travis, like Nathan, had worn a suit and tie, his wheat blond hair giving him a very youthful appearance. He gave Lauren an exuberant kiss on the cheek before introducing her to his partner.
The dark haired, half-Vietnamese Anton was far more flamboyant in both his dress and mannerisms than the more subdued Travis, and he greeted Lauren as if they were old friends.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he enthused. “Wow, look at the two of you! When Julia told me you were identical twins, I didn’t think you’d look – well, identical. Except for the outfits, of course. Though it’s a bit of a fashion role reversal, don’t you think? I mean, I was told that Lauren is the naughty twin, but it’s Julia who looks positively devilish tonight.”
Lauren had thought rather the same thing earlier when Julia had set their outfits out. It was admittedly ironic that Lauren was wearing the blush pink dress – even though her boobs were pushed up to a rather amazing display in the tight fitting corset styled bodice. Her makeup was also in soft tones – silver gray eye shadow, pale pink cheeks, rose glossed lips.
Whereas Julia was wearing screaming, sultry, lipstick red – a lacy, strapless Dolce & Gabbana number paired with bejeweled bronze stiletto sandals from the same designer. Her makeup was bolder, darker, more dramatic, capped off with the vivid carmine lipstick.
Lauren grinned at Anton, sensing a kindred spirit. “Well, I wanted to wear jeans and boots like I usually do, but someone can be very pushy when she sets her mind to it. Though I swear these shoes will not be remaining on my feet for the entire evening. I’ve got a pair of flip flops stashed nearby.”
Anton laughed. “Oooh, you are a feisty one, aren’t you? But, sweetie, where’s your date? Don’t you dare try and tell me a gorgeous thing like you doesn’t have a dozen different guys on the hook at a time.”
She shook her head. “Nah. Men are too much trouble. I’m here solo tonight.”
“Maybe for now,” said Julia slyly. “We’ll see how the evening pans out.”
Lauren gave her sister a warning look. “Jules, don’t start, okay? You are not going to fix me up with – what’s his name again? Evan? Ira?”
“Ian,” corrected Julia. “Ian Gregson. And he’s Nathan’s best client, so please do not embarrass us tonight.”
Anton gasped. “Omigod! Ian Gregson – the Ian Gregson – is going to be here tonight? Travis, you bad boy, why didn’t you tell me? I would have worn something more befitting a visit from royalty. And smoking hot royalty to boot.”
Travis shook his head. “Ian is not royalty. He’s just – very British. And a little stuffy. But he’s also a hunk, Lauren. And single. And very, very rich.”
Lauren rolled her eyes heavenward. “Yeah, so I’ve been told. Multiple times. I will try very, very hard not to embarrass you, Jules. Or drool.”
But the latter promise proved extremely difficult to abide by when the man himself walked into Julia’s living room a few minutes later, presenting his hostess with an expensive bottle of wine and a beautiful bouquet of fall flowers.
Julia had tried to warn her – “he’s got this aura about him, this charisma, and when he walks into a room everyone sits up and takes notice. He’s just – overwhelming. Powerful. Trust me, you won’t be immune either.”
Lauren could count on one hand the number of people who had intimidated her over the years – two of her martial arts teachers; her father, at least on those rare occasions when he’d really set his foot down; and now this tall, broad-shouldered, and spectacularly handsome man. With his dark hair, tanned skin, and rugged but refined features, Ian Gregson looked like a movie star or a diplomat. And even though she wasn’t normally attracted to a man who wore a suit, she also wasn’t blind or half-dead, and had to admit that he wore the dark blue pinstriped suit very, very well. He was, as Julia had said, overwhelming.
Ian Gregson also possessed a dazzling smile, a firm handshake, and a deep, cultured British accent that would be more than enough to get ninety-nine percent of the world’s female population to fall into his bed at the blink of an eye. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lauren. And quite uncanny how much you look like your sister, even for identical twins.”
She returned his handshake with a grip that took him by surprise, and gave him her very best flirty smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Ian. And you certainly live up to all the hype. Between my sister, Travis, and Anton, you’ve got quite a fan club here.”
He looked both startled and more than a little embarrassed, and Lauren guessed a man as suave and confident as Ian was rarely if ever at a loss for words as he was now.
Nathan tactfully stepped in and offered Ian a crystal tumbler of scotch, while Julia urged everyone to partake of the extravagant array of hors d’oeuvres she had set out. The last guests of the evening – Eric Chiang, one of the architects employed at the firm, and his wife Karen – arrived a short time later.
Lauren quickly discovered that Ian was not in the least bit put off or intimidated by her outspokenness, and actually seemed to find her quite amusing. At his encouragement, she told him about her various travels and some of the stories she’d covered for the magazine. He, too, was very well traveled, small wonder considering his family owned a worldwide chain of luxury hotels and resorts.
Julia had none too discreetly sat them next to each other at dinner, and Lauren found it truly flattering for a change to have such a charming and attentive dining companion. She’d spent far too much time in recent years sharing pizza and beer with her crew, being treated very much like one of the guys, and had nearly forgotten what it was like to be around a true gentleman. Not counting, of course, her disastrous blind date with Daniel. The very same blind date she found herself recounting for everyone at the table, blaming all the champagne and wine she’d consumed for loosening her tongue.
Ian found the tale hilarious, and laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear or two from his eyes. “My God, you are truly a force to be reckoned with, aren’t you?” he chuckled. “Ah, I’m very glad I came here this evening, Lauren. I can’t recall the last time I’ve laughed this much.”
Lauren grinned. “Happy to oblige. Though why a man who’s got as much going for him as you obviously do doesn’t laugh very often is beyond me. Or why you don’t have a date along this evening. “
Ian sobered instantly, masking his obvious discomfiture by reaching for his wine glass. “There’s a very good reason for both of those circumstances,” he told her quietly.
“You’re in love with someone and she doesn’t return your feelings,” Lauren observed matter-of-factly. “Is she an idiot?”
He gave her a faint smile but didn’t deny what had actually been a lucky guess on her part. “No, not in the least. And she has no idea of how I feel about her because I’ve never once even given her a hint.”
“Ah.” Lauren nodded, scooping up another bite of Julia’s heavenly peach cobbler with fresh cream. “She’s married, then. Or otherwise spoken for.”
Ian glanced around the table warily, as if to ascertain that no one else could hear their conversation. “You’re very observant, Ms. McKinnon,” he replied with an unwilling smile. “Perhaps too much for your own good. And I trust that you can also be discreet? I, ah, would not want what I just told you to be shared with anyone else at this table.”
“Hmm.” Lauren licked cream off her fork in a very unladylike manner. “I take that to mean the woman in question is known to someone else here at the table. I’d guess then that she either works for you or for Nathan.”
“The former,” he admitted reluctantly. “So I would appreciate your discretion, Lauren. Especially with your sister, since I fear she already suspects.”
Lauren pretended to draw a zipper across her mouth. “Not a word. Scout’s honor. Not that I was ever a girl scout, of course. Too many rules and regulations, not to mention the truly hideous uniform.”
Ian’s amusement returned. “I can just imagine the havoc you would have created in a group like that. But I do appreciate your keeping this information to yourself.”
“Yeah, no big deal,” she shrugged. “Though that still doesn’t explain why a hunky guy like you is here without a date tonight. I mean, I understand about your forbidden love and all that, but why are you pining away for her this way?”
He smiled thoughtfully. “It’s very simple, actually. If I can’t have her, then I don’t want anyone else. I have a few female friends who attend social events with me from time to time, but those are all strictly platonic relationships. The thought of being romantically involved with anyone besides T – besides my forbidden love, as you so succinctly put it – holds no appeal whatsoever.”
Lauren gave a low whistle. “Well, damn. All I can say is that this girl must be one smoking hot babe for a guy like you to live like a monk because you can’t have her. How long has it been for you anyway? You know, since you, uh, shagged anyone? That is how you Brits phrase it, right?”
He gave her a look of disbelief. “I would say that I can’t believe you just asked me a question like that, but then I’ve also just spent the last two hours hearing about all your wild adventures and, ah, questionable blind dates. And I’ve determined that there’s very little that intimidates you, including asking virtual strangers about their lack of, er, shagging.”
She gave him a cheeky wink. “I’ll tell you if you tell me. I’ve had a dry spell going now for eighteen months.”
Ian laughed in spite of himself. “I believe I can one up you there. By several months, in fact.”
She shook her head. “What a waste. I hope this chick wakes up and smells the roses one day soon, appreciates just what she could have.”
“I’m flattered,” remarked Ian dryly. “And might I return the compliment? Whoever the man is that you’re in love with, he’s a fool not to appreciate you.”
Lauren was speechless, a very rare occurrence for her. “How – I mean, that’s not – it’s not like your situation. Not exactly, anyway.”
He shrugged. “I don’t need to know the details to determine that you find yourself in a similar set of circumstances. You’re not the only one with excellent observational skills, Lauren. I was taught those same skills at a very early age. And they tell me now that your heart has been badly broken.”
She reached for a bottle of red wine only to have Ian pick it up first and smoothly refill her glass. She took a long swallow before lifting the glass to him in a toast. “Here’s what we should do,” she told him half-jokingly as she ran a teasing hand up and down the sleeve of what she guessed was a custom made suit jacket. “We should say to hell with broken hearts and unrequited love and break our dry spells with each other. What do you say, handsome?”
Ian’s hazel eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’d say that you’re a very beautiful and enchanting woman, and that I’m incredibly flattered at your, er, offer. But - ” he gave a regretful shake of his dark head, “the heart wants what the heart wants, Lauren. And my heart belongs to someone else, even if she’ll never know.”
“I get that.” She sighed. “But the heart doesn’t always have to be involved when it comes to, ah, shagging. In fact, mine has only ever been truly involved once. No reason we couldn’t commiserate over our mutually foolish infatuations by having a bit of fun.”
Ian refilled his own wine glass. “Well, now. That brings up quite a different dilemma,” he teased. “You see, I rather like to be the one in charge of all aspects of my life including the, ah, bedroom. And I sense that you and I would have a bit of a – let’s call it a power struggle – in that regard.”
Lauren tried very hard not to think about how it had always been an equal give and take between her and Ben, though she had admittedly liked topping him as often as possible. Almost as much as she’d enjoyed being dominated by him.
Belatedly aware that Ian was politely waiting for her reply, she merely gave him a little wink. “That, I’m afraid, is a deal breaker,” she teased. “Especially since I’d have to leave my handcuffs and floggers at home.”
As Ian’s laugh rang out, Lauren caught Julia’s eye and groaned when she noted the hopeful expression on her twin’s face. She would definitely have to set her sister straight after dinner – to let her know that even though Ian was undeniably a catch, there was nothing happening there. Not as long as his heart belonged to another woman, and hers – well, there had only ever been one man who’d been able to lay claim to hers.
***
October –Big Sur
“There. That ought to do it. What do you think?”
Lauren carefully inspected the section of deck railing that her father had just finished repairing. Living so close to the ocean came with a higher than average occurrence of wood rot and rust, and one of the consequences was a continual need to perform preventive maintenance and make regular repairs.
“It looks great, Daddy,” she replied. “Thanks for coming down to help me.”
Robert shrugged. “A labor of love, darlin’. This cabin is a testament to that theory. And if I didn’t have my workshop and your mother her studio at our place up the road, I’d be sorely tempted to switch places with you. The years I lived here were magical, special. Not that the Carmel house isn’t equally as special to me, but, well – you know.”
Lauren nodded, knowing it wasn’t necessary to put into words the unique affinity she and her father had always shared for this place. And while her mother and sister also had fond memories of the cabin, they had never felt quite the same attachment that she and Robert had always enjoyed.
“Well, it’s a very good thing that you aren’t planning to move back here,” teased Lauren. “Because I would chain myself to the deck before I would ever willingly leave this place.”
Robert chuckled as he began to put away his tools. “Not to worry, Laurie. Your mother and I aren’t going anywhere. And I wouldn’t dream of asking you to leave this place. I know how important it’s always been to you.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” She knelt down to help him pick up his tools and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I hope I didn’t take you away from anything important today.”
He gave a brief shake of his head. “Nothing that won’t keep for a bit. When I left, your mother was cooking up a storm to get ready for your birthday party this weekend. And when Natalie is occupied in her kitchen, I know better than to interfere.”
“Julia’s the same. When I offered to help out at that dinner party she gave a couple of weeks ago, I thought she was going to stab me with her paring knife. And I really wish Mom wasn’t going to so much trouble for a little birthday dinner. It’s not like Jules and I are little girls anymore.”
Robert stood and hooked an arm around his daughter’s neck, hugging her in close to his side. “Ah, but you know what your mother is like when it comes to giving a party. She’s not one for bringing out the good china and crystal, or cooking up a lot of fancy dishes. But she does insist on making enough food for a small army. And she loves nothing better than to be surrounded by her family and friends as often as possible. Especially her girls. When Julia moved out here from New York last year, your mother was over the moon at the thought of having both her babies close by. So let her spoil the two of you a bit, hmm?”
“Okay.” She giggled like a little girl as her father ruffled her hair, causing even more strands to tumble from her untidy braid. Only for her father would she ever do something as girly as giggle. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee before you head back? And I have half of a lemon meringue pie from the bakery.”
“What happened to the other half?” asked Robert with a knowing wink.
Lauren grinned and rubbed her washboard flat stomach. “You know I burn up calories faster than I can consume them. You’re lucky there’s still half left. Come on. I’ll even let you brew the coffee.”
Robert shuddered. “An excellent idea, darlin’, given that yours is thick enough to lay bricks with. No wonder you cream and sugar it to death.”
“Well, that way I get both my caffeine and sugar kicks at the same time,” joked Lauren, looping her arm through her father’s as they walked inside the cabin.
He looked at her reproachfully. “And you know that you shouldn’t be having either of those substances. I realize you’ve learned to control your condition over the years but too much stimulation is playing with fire, darlin’.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, Daddy. And trust me, I’ve got it all under control.”
Robert stopped short as he spied an object on the kitchen counter. “And you know my feelings about that quite well, young lady. Every time I see it, I want to throttle your Uncle Malcolm for giving it to you.”
“Oops.” Lauren hastily swept up her switchblade and stashed it in a kitchen drawer. “Sorry. I was using it to open a box this morning.”
Robert shook his head even as he began to scoop coffee into a paper filter. “You should be keeping that lethal weapon locked up. I’m still not sure it’s legal to possess in this country. Not to mention all of the many and varied places you travel to.”
“But I don’t take - ” Lauren’s protest died on her lips as her father glared at her.
“You never could lie to me, Laurie,” stated Robert as he flicked the ON switch to the coffeemaker. “I may be the one person in the entire world who can truthfully say that. So don’t even try telling me that you don’t pack that knife with you everywhere you go. And while I understand why you take it along when you go to some of these godforsaken places the magazine sends you to, you do not need to hide it in your boot when you go into town for groceries or drive up to San Francisco to see your sister. So do your poor old father a favor and leave it safely at home, hmm?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she murmured obediently, even though both of them knew she’d break her vow the very next time she left the house.
Over pie and coffee, Robert told her about several projects he was working on. He rarely did any architectural design these days, save for the occasional room addition or remodel. Nowadays he preferred to work with his hands designing and building furniture, decks, and cabinets.
Robert took a sip of his coffee. “And what about you, darlin’? Are you still loving life traveling all around the globe?”
“Of course.” She gave him a puzzled look. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because something’s been troubling you for a while now, Laurie.” He was the only person in the world who could get away with using that particular nickname. “You seem sad sometimes. Maybe even a little depressed. And that, my girl, is not like you at all. So tell your old dad what the matter is.”
Lauren hesitated, sorely tempted to cry it all out on her father’s broad, comforting shoulder, knowing that somehow he would make it all okay. But she was too old now, and far too proud, to go crying to her daddy when she needed soothing. It had been a long, long time since she had done something like that, having been fiercely independent from the time she could walk.
“It’s nothing really, Daddy,” she fudged. “Just, well, I guess I’m still mad at my boss for not sending me to Brazil. And I don’t care what excuses he gave me. I still say he held me back on purpose.”
Robert guffawed. “You do hold a grudge, don’t you, darlin’? Well, in my opinion, your boss is both very wise and very brave. In fact, the next time I’m in New York I’m going to buy him a drink to thank him. And if he had let you go to Brazil knowing the danger involved, I would have either insisted he got fired or had his head examined.”
“Daddy, you aren’t serious are you” asked Lauren, trying to disguise the panic his words had initiated. “You’re not really going to ask Ben out for a drink, are you?”
He winked. “What’s the matter, Laurie? Afraid your boss will tell me tales about some of your adventures? Trust me, darlin’, there’s really nothing I’d be shocked to hear about you at this point.”
‘Oh, yeah?’ she asked herself wildly. ‘How about the fact that my boss and I had a wild fling five years ago right here in this very cabin. In fact, I think one of the many places we, uh, flung was right about where you’re having pie and coffee.’
But of course she said nothing about her ill-fated affair with Ben, keeping it to herself as she had done for such a long time. She quickly changed the subject, asking her father about his favorite soccer team, knowing that he’d happily converse on that topic for endless minutes.
When Robert headed back home to Carmel a short while later, however, it was all Lauren could do to stop the tears from tracking down her cheeks unheeded. Over the years she’d gotten real good at blocking out all the memories, and the pain that accompanied them, but then there were times like today when nothing kept them at bay for very long.
Everywhere she went in this cabin, the surrounding grounds, the nearby bluffs and beach, brought back bittersweet memories of Ben. At one time she’d considered replacing nearly every stick of furniture in the house – the bed, both sofas, chairs, even the kitchen table – because they had made love on all of those surfaces and more. But to do so would have surely raised her parents’ eyebrows – and suspicions – and thus nothing had changed.
She did some work enhancing and cropping a series of photos she’d taken during her most recent visit to San Francisco, thinking that they might be something her mother would like for the gallery. She poured herself a glass of wine and watched the sunset out on the deck, unwillingly remembering each time she had done exactly the same thing with Ben. Dinner was a tamale plate she’d picked up in Monterey earlier today, and while she normally savored each delicious bite tonight everything tasted like sawdust.
She eyed a bottle of tequila and a shot glass longingly, but wound up putting them away, knowing that no amount of alcohol was going to cure her broken heart tonight. Instead she made herself a giant mug of hot chocolate, wrapped herself up in the ratty old flannel bathrobe, and padded barefoot back out to the deck to watch the stars come out, trying not to think about the times Ben had patiently pointed all the constellations out to her.
It took her a long time to fall asleep that night, and when she finally did it was to toss and turn fitfully, and dream of Ben.
He was laying on his back, his eyes shut, groaning as she kissed a path down his chest, her tongue flicking over each of his nipples in turn.
“You like that, Blue Eyes?” she whispered. Her hand slipped down his rock hard abs until she was grasping his erection. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“You’re a witch,” he murmured hoarsely. “A green eyed, sexy little witch. And you’ve got the most incredible mouth, the – oh, fuck!”
Ben grabbed handfuls of the sheets, his pelvis thrusting up in sync with the long, arousing pulls of her mouth. His cock seemed to feel a bit harder and grow a bit longer with each stroke of her hand, each swipe of her tongue, until he was almost too much for her to take.
And then he surprised her, maneuvering their bodies until she was on all fours and he was thrusting into her from behind, taking control. He fucked her with long, deep strokes, until she could feel the head of his cock butting against the very tip of her womb. She gripped the wrought iron headboard, holding on for dear life as he took her with an almost savage hunger. She was gasping for breath, sweat covering both of their bodies in a fine mist, and she could feel her orgasm building with each hard thrust of his cock.
“Oh, God, Ben. That’s so good,” she cried. “Yes, keep it up! I’m so close, baby, so close. Just don’t stop.”
“Never,” he breathed, his arm banded around her waist as his lips brushed her throat. “I’ll never stop wanting you, Lauren, never stop being with you this way. I’ll always want to - ”
She came awake with a rude start, vaulting up into a sitting position as she struggled to catch her breath. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she was alarmed to discover how full and swollen her breasts felt, how the nipples were hard and almost painful. She closed her eyes and squirmed a little in embarrassment as she realized how wet she was, and how her body was begging for release. She knew from past experiences, past dreams, just like this one that all she would have to do was touch herself once and she’d orgasm instantly.
But perhaps the most disturbing reaction to the erotic dream she’d just had about Ben were the wet tracks of her tears. She brushed them away impatiently, furious at this betrayal of her weakness. But it was no use, because moments later her slender shoulders were shaking with the force of her renewed weeping. And it was then she finally realized that the only way she would ever be with Ben again would be in dreams much like this one.