I’m a Dreamer
Johnny
IT TOOK A lot out of Johnny to watch the man walk into the room in his shoelace-less sneakers and orange jumpsuit.
And bile raced up Johnny’s throat at seeing the excitement in his face as his eyes darted back and forth between Johnny and the woman standing beside him.
He sat in the seat on the opposite side of the glass and swiftly yanked the telephone that was there out of its cradle.
Slowly, Johnny sat in the chair in front of him and lifted the phone at his side.
He put it to his ear, and Stu said instantly, “Are you guys back together?”
Christ, it was like the guy didn’t remember he’d kidnapped Brooks just a week and a half ago and just how insanely messed up that was.
Johnny didn’t get into that.
“Do the right thing,” he stated.
Stu blinked at him.
Then his face got shifty. “Johnny, I was in a bind. You know me. I get that was extreme. But I had no choice. If there was another way, I’da—”
He wasn’t going to listen to this shit.
“Do the right thing,” Johnny repeated.
Stu leaned into the glass and whispered desperately into the phone, “I’m dyin’ in here, brother.”
“Do the right thing, Stu.”
“Been trapped all my life, my parents, their shit. I can’t be trapped, man.”
“Stu, fucking do the right thing.”
Suddenly, as it was with Stu when he wasn’t getting what he wanted, his demeanor changed.
He sat back and started sneering.
“You don’t get it,” he spat. “Johnny Gamble of Gamble Garages. Hot shot. Big man. Money to burn. Dad that thought his shit doesn’t stink. You never felt trapped. You’ve never been fucked over in your whole life.”
“Let her be free.”
Stu fell silent.
“She’s the principal witness in your case,” Johnny told him something he knew. “She can’t leave town. She can’t get clear. She can’t be free. And you’re forcing her into a situation where she has to testify against her own brother.”
He was.
Stu had pled not guilty to all charges.
He’d done it even though there were witnesses everywhere. The lady across the street at the daycare center. A female clerk in a Gamble Garage, of all fucking places, where he bought a jar of baby food, holding a crying Brooks to him, this caught on security film.
There were also his fingerprints at the shack. And getting in a high-speed chase in a car he’d stolen. Not to mention, striking up a relationship with a bank teller in a town where he didn’t live, but he did have enough good in him (and stupidity) to write her a fucking note that said, I’m sorry, baby, before he fucked her and her kid over, robbed her bank and skipped town.
Last, there was his sister who he forced to be a material witness to all of that . . . and more than likely a lot more Johnny and the cops didn’t know about.
Shandra stood at Johnny’s back for one purpose.
To put the heat on her brother to do the right thing.
For once.
“You fight this, I talked to Cary. They’re pissed at your plea, Stu,” Johnny told him. “You take county resources to try you, you’re gonna lose and the judge is gonna throw your ass in the joint for a sentence that’ll mean you’re trapped for a long fucking time.”
“I’m comin’ out of my skin in here, Johnny,” Stu whined.
“Then you shouldn’t have robbed a bank, stolen a car and kidnapped a baby, Stu,” Johnny pointed out the obvious.
Stu did the darting of the eyes thing again between Johnny and Shandra standing behind him then said, “I screwed you over. You and her. But she’s the only thing I got.”
“She was the only thing you had but just like you made it for me, you lost her.”
Stu read the wrong thing in that and leaned in again, eager, fierce. “She loves you,” he whispered in the phone. “She never quit.”
“We’re not talking about that.”
“At least I can go down knowin’ I fixed one thing I broke.”
Johnny felt his jaw tighten, he gave it a beat, and only when he had it together did he speak again.
“This world, Stu, does not revolve around you and your hurts and your bullshit and your anger and your fuckups. This is not about you. This is about your sister. She has to get out of this town. She has to get out from under your shit and your history and your anger. She has to get away from those two predators who call themselves your parents. For once in your miserable life, think about someone other than you. Think about someone who laid it all on the line for you.”
Stu sat back. “So you want me to think all this,” he swept his hand in front of him to indicate Johnny with Shandra, “isn’t about that new piece you’re tagging.”
Johnny fought his jaw tightening and bit out, “No. You’re in there and you’re going down whether you fight it or not and the nightmare you forced them to endure is done. Yours is just beginning, and as usual you’re dragging your sister right along with you. Now you got a choice and I’ll put this in terms you’ll understand. Cary says if you change your plea, they’re still open to bargain with you. It’ll mean a reduced sentence. You got an hour to make that call. That hour’s up, you go on trial and the cops and the DA are so pissed, Stu, they’re gonna come at you with everything they’ve got and they’ve got a lot. They’ve shared with me that the kidnapping charge will get you twenty years. The robbery charge, since you used a gun, will get you twenty-five. And the DA is gonna push for those being served non-concurrently, which, not taking into account the car you stole, means you’ll get out when you’re seventy-seven years old.”
Dread filled Stu’s face but Johnny wasn’t done with him.
“And not that you give a shit, but they’re so pissed, they’ll consider Shandra going on the run with you as her not only receiving but concealing money taken from that bank, and she’ll go on trial and face ten years.”
Stu jerked forward in his seat so violently, the cop at the door watching him went on alert, putting his hand to the baton on his belt.
“They can’t do that!” he shouted.
“An hour,” Johnny said. “Your call.”
He started to put down the receiver but heard Stu shouting agitatedly, “Johnny! Johnny! Johnny!”
He put the phone back to his ear.
“Let me talk to my sister,” he demanded.
“She’s done with you.”
“Please, brother, let me talk to my sister.”
Johnny stared into his eyes. “You’re wasting time.”
Stu stared back, he did it almost desperately, like looking at Johnny could make all he’d done disappear.
Then he said, “I’ll change my plea.”
Thank Christ.
Johnny nodded.
He put down the phone.
He got out of his chair.
He turned to Shandra, put a hand to her elbow and guided her out of that room and the jail.
They stopped at the front steps and turned to each other.
“He’s gonna change his plea,” he told her.
Her shoulders sagged and he had a feeling they sagged not because she was now free, but because Stu would suffer less.
He got that. He loved Toby that much, if Toby had turned like Stu had done he’d feel the same way.
Those desperate hours not knowing where Brooks was, he also didn’t get it at all.
“I gotta go,” he told her.
She tensed and seemed to lean toward him.
“Johnny.”
“This gets sorted, Shandra, get outta town. Find your happy.”
She shook her head and said solemnly, “You have to know how sorry I am for everything. Really everything, Johnny.” Her face started to crumble but she was Shandra. She’d lived through a lot, too much. She didn’t crumble easy. So she sniffed through her nose, pulled it together, and whispered, “Everything.”
“I know that, Shandra,” he said quietly.
“I really did love you,” she told him.
“I know that too,” he replied.
“Not to . . . I mean, I know you’ve moved on, so not to make this anymore awkward than it already is, which seems impossible, but here it is. I always will. I’ll always love you, Johnny Gamble.”
He dipped his chin and whispered, “You get out from under all of this, start somewhere fresh, find your happy, you’ll find someone else to love.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely. Just . . .” he drew in breath and put his face closer to her, “use what we had and do it better next time.”
She rubbed her lips together and nodded, and he remembered he used to think that was cute. If he had his shot, he would always kiss her after she was done doing that.
It was still cute.
And he hoped the guy that came next would think that too.
“Stay safe and be happy, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“You too, baby,” she murmured back.
He looked into beautiful eyes, what seemed a very long time ago he thought he’d be looking into until his dying day.
Then he smiled at her and walked away.
Twenty minutes later, he drove up Izzy’s lane to see her rocking in her wicker chair on her front porch with three dogs lazing around at her feet.
She had a chilled glass of something on the table next to her, her colored pencils out and a book on the knees she had lifted up with her heels in the seat.
He knew that book.
His Izzy was coloring.
That was Izzy. She didn’t rock away the time, anxious for his return, worried about him knowing what he had to do, waiting for him in quiet reflection, wasting time where she could be using it, even if she was using it to color in the lines.
She had to be doing something.
The dogs raced to him, Ranger in the lead, as he stopped his truck beside her dusty Murano.
He got out, handed out pets, and walked slowly to her with his eyes on her.
She didn’t move from her chair and she also didn’t move her gaze from him.
When he was standing on her porch two feet away, looking down at her, she asked, “How’d that go?”
“He’s changing his plea.”
She grinned up at him.
Now that . . .
That was kissably cute.
“Can you do anything, Johnny Gamble?” she asked.
He just shook his head and hitched his lips.
Her face got serious. “How’s Shandra?”
“If she’s smart, finally free.”
She nodded gravely.
Then her head tipped to the side. “We had rather a drama fifteen minutes ago when Brooks decided he would prefer Kelly’s fur yanked out of her furry kitty body and Kelly decided she liked her fur where it was, so she swatted at him and caught him with a claw. The scratch is about half an inch long so not bad but she drew blood. Brooks wasn’t a big fan. Addie bathed it and shared with him that some lessons need to be learned the hard way. I have a feeling Brooks can’t understand English, but he understood that. Kelly’s still miffed.”
“Addie’s right,” Johnny declared.
“Yes,” Izzy agreed.
“Iz?”
“Yes?”
“It gonna take until we’re eighty for you to get with the program?”
She looked confused for a second before she set her book aside, pushed out of her chair, moved her body into his and slid her arms around his neck.
“Sometimes you can kiss me when you get home, you know,” she whispered, eyes to his lips.
“You’re right,” he replied.
And then he did just that.
Izzy
“That is absolutely, one hundred percent not going to work,” I said decisively.
“Are you serious?” Johnny replied, not hiding he was getting angry.
I threw up both my hands. “Yes, I’m serious.” I leaned toward him where he was standing five feet away from me in front of his couch in his living room/bedroom/dining room/kitchen (part of the point!) and reminded him, “I have horses, Johnny.”
“That isn’t lost on me, Izzy,” he retorted.
“And I kinda like them,” I went on. “I also like having them outside my back door, not fifteen miles away.”
“Iz, you got three acres. I got twenty-seven.”
I felt my eyes get big at this news. “You have twenty-seven acres?”
“Baby,” he growled, “you have got to get over me being loaded.”
I felt my eyes narrow. “I had no problem with you being loaded last week when I came home and you handed me that box with brand-new, nude Louboutin pumps in it.”
His head twitched and his brows came together. “You call that beige color nude?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beige,” he replied.
“It’s nude, Johnny.”
“Christ!” he exploded. “We’re not gonna fight about the color of your shoes when we’re fighting about where we’re gonna live when we move in together.”
That was what we were doing.
I’d barely walked through the door after work and we were fighting over where we were going to live when we moved in together.
I didn’t know when that would be, we hadn’t made that decision.
But we were fighting over it anyway.
It was October. We’d now officially been seeing each other for five months (I was starting from the day we hooked up, which I considered our beginning).
Some might think this was too soon to be discussing moving in.
Though my mom wouldn’t.
And Addie just plain didn’t because she told me so.
Neither did Deanna (she’d told me so too).
And Margot, just the other night at dinner at The Star said chidingly, “You two children and this back and forth, and packing and repacking bags and extra expense on toiletries. It’s ridiculous. You need to settle, for goodness sakes.”
So I had a feeling she didn’t either.
But Johnny had just declared no way in hell he was moving into the acres.
My response, as noted, was decisive.
“I need stables, Johnny,” I pointed out, deciding to save the fact that I also might need rooms and use that if I needed to turn to another weapon in my arsenal for our argument.
“I got twenty-seven acres, Iz. I can build you stables and you got a lot more space to ride. When we were riding last weekend it felt like we barely left before we were home. We’ll need them and an outbuilding to put the ATVs, snow mobiles and bikes in, as well as a garage since you’re not parking your vehicle outside when it gets cold or rains. When that’s all cleared out, we can finish the downstairs with bedrooms for the kids we’re gonna have, and a family room so they can have their own space and do it all being far away so I can fuck you like you like it. We’ll redo up here so we got common area for the family and a master with a killer closet you can fill with your dresses and shoes and we got plenty of space for me to do you on the floor if I happen to see you get dressed, or undressed, however it happens.”
I was standing frozen, staring at the perfection of Johnny Gamble.
Johnny was not frozen.
Johnny was on a roll.
“You got three bedrooms and you want fifteen kids. I want two. I’m willing to compromise to bring that up to four, but four kids and two adults at the acres means we’ll be living on top of each other and that’s not what I wanna give my family. Plenty of room to put four bedrooms with two Jack and Jill baths downstairs and a family room. And just to say, spätzchen, it comes that time I start planting my babies in you, my sperm count cannot be eradicated by living in a place that has pink walls, flowered pillows and a fucking birdhouse with a pink roof on the coffee table in the family room.”
“Are we . . . are we . . . moving in together or getting married?” I asked breathlessly.
His heavy brows shot together in that ominous way he had.
“We’re moving in together then we’re getting married.”
I stopped breathing entirely.
“And, babe,” he stated warningly, “I already picked the ring. It’s kickass. Guy said cushion cut and called it a halo. I have no clue what that means but it fucking rocks. It’s also four carats. If you balk at that because someone could buy a truck with the cost of it, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
Four carats.
An engagement ring that cost the same as a truck.
“And while we’re fighting,” Johnny carried on, “might as well share now that Margot’s already planning our wedding. When I went over there the other day because Dave needed a hand putting in that new farm sink Margot ordered off some website, she had bride magazines with about seven hundred Post-it notes sticking out of them on her kitchen table. She told me you were either gonna have the wedding she’d always wanted or the wedding she was determined you were gonna have. With Margot, my guess is it’s the last but they’d both be the same. So strap in, spätzchen, because it’s a guarantee any wedding Margot plans is gonna get outta hand.”
“You’re okay with four kids?” I whispered.
He flipped out a hand. “You wanna push that to five, I’ll consider it. But let’s make sure there are no Tobys in the bunch with the first four.”
“Your brother is wonderful, Johnny,” I said.
“Pretty much all women think that, Izzy, so you thinking it doesn’t surprise me.”
I really had nothing to say to that so I said nothing.
At this point, Johnny seemed to note my mood had changed and the irate way he was looking at me changed too.
“Iz?” he called.
“I like my birdhouse.”
“Iz,” he whispered, lips hitching at one side.
God, I loved the way he grinned.
“But if you don’t, I’ll put it in the yard sale it seems I’ll be having.”
“Your sister and Brooks can live there. They love it there,” Johnny told me.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“And this place was my dad’s.”
“I know, häschen.”
His face grew soft, and God, oh God, just that much more beautiful.
“You got a dream wedding you want, baby, I’ll intervene with Margot,” he told me gently.
“I have a feeling my dream wedding would be whatever Margot wants for me.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Mom would love your water wheel,” I shared.
“Good,” he replied.
“She’d love you more.”
And his face grew even softer, and God, oh God, so much more beautiful.
“Good,” he whispered.
“Can I tackle you now?” I asked.
He smiled.
“Hit me, baby,” he invited.
I lunged.
And Johnny went down without a fight.
“Iz.”
I pulled him out of my mouth, wrapped my hand around him and stroked hard as I lifted up between his legs and looked at him laid out diagonal on his bed, his muscles flexing, his knees up, feet off the bed, long, powerful legs falling to the sides, his rock-hard cock flushed and distended, the veining I felt pulsing in my mouth I could feel doing that now in my hand.
“I wanna watch,” I whispered.
He lifted his head from the mattress, his hands moving, one shoving mine aside, his other going low to cup his balls, and he growled, “Then settle in for the show, baby.”
I settled in for the show, panting, restless, my palms sweaty and itching, wanting to touch him as I watched him jack off for me, massaging his balls, pulling at his cock, noises rolling up his chest, his hips lifting to thrust in his hand.
I gave a small cry right along with his low groan as he dug his dark head into the mattress, exposing the strong line of his jaw through his beard, the cords of his throat taut, and the creamy stream jetted from his cock up his chest.
He was milking himself when I could take no more.
I crawled up him and plastered myself to him, taking his head in my hands and driving my tongue in his mouth even through his labored breathing.
He recovered enough to kiss me back and force his arms out from where I’d trapped them between us. He latched onto me around my hips with one, holding me steady as his other hand dove between my legs, two fingers thrusting right in.
I moaned into his mouth as he gathered my wet, pulled his fingers out and circled my clit hard.
It took perhaps ten seconds before I sank my teeth in his lower lip, heard him grunt, felt his arm around my hips tighten, slide, his hand going down, in. He again coated his fingers with my wet and slid them up, gliding one into my ass.
I released him as my head shot back and I cried out as I came.
He worked my clit through my climax and kept stroking me tenderly, fucking my ass the same, as the jolts turned to shudders then to trembles and I collapsed on top of him, my face in the side of his neck.
Johnny slid his finger out, gliding that arm up my back and his hand between my legs traced around so he could wrap that arm around my waist.
I caught my breath against his skin.
After I was sated and settled on top of my man, he started trailing his fingers down and up the back of my thigh.
“When we get down to making babies, spätzchen, I’m thinking I’ll need my cum to find its way inside you, and I don’t mean you absorbing it through your skin,” he teased.
“You come inside me plenty,” I muttered, and he absolutely did.
One could say five months of togetherness had not affected the intensity of our attraction to each other.
In fact, one could say the exact opposite.
“When we get down to making babies, Iz, we’re gonna be serious about that and step up our game.”
That comment forced my face out of his neck so I could look down at him.
“More sex?” I asked, astonished.
He grinned. “Definitely. A lot more.”
“We have a lot of sex now.”
“I’m a guy who’s thorough when he does a job, Iz, but I’m thinkin’ with that job, I’ll be meticulous.”
I rolled my eyes and let my head plop down again.
Johnny chuckled under me and kept stroking the back of my thigh.
We lay together for a lovely while before he said quietly, “Now we got that sorted, when you wanna move in?”
“Tomorrow?”
His arm around me went tight and his hand at my thigh quit stroking and gripped hard.
Johnny’s way of saying he liked my answer.
“Though I probably should talk to Addie,” I continued, “and sort some things out. So how about the weekend after next?”
He curled his hand around the inside of my upper thigh and held on as he replied, “Works for me. I’ll start making calls. Get some plans for stables drawn up.”
I lifted my head, looked into his eyes and began, “The cost of that, Johnny—”
His hand left my thigh and cupped my face, his thumb pressing against my lips.
“Never again,” he growled. “Don’t ever mention that again, Izzy. I’m not stupid with money and God knows you aren’t. I wouldn’t do it if I couldn’t do it or I didn’t want to do it, even if me wanting to do it is doing something that’s for you. But I like horses and you have horses that I like and I’ll want our kids raised around animals, including horses, so now’s the time. We get stables. And I’ll buy you shoes and give you a huge-ass diamond ring and build this mill into a house you love and you’ll know I’m doing it smart. You’ll know I’m doing it because I can afford it and because I want to. And I’ll know the days you had to make do, you had to eat shit, ended the night you met me. It’s not gonna be about four-dollar dining room chairs and taking someone else’s castoffs and making it into something that works anymore. And if you got trouble swallowing that, right now, know to your soul that I know to mine I was put on this earth to do exactly that for you. So I’m gonna do it and you, Izzy, you’re gonna let me.”
“I’ll want a garden,” I whispered, my voice thick with the emotion that was welling inside, put there with all Johnny just said to me, and he moved his thumb from my lips.
“We’ll pick the spot this weekend and I’ll turn over the dirt in spring.”
Of course he would.
“And I’m gonna be buying new wineglasses before I move in,” I shared. “Yours are nice and all, but they’re kinda . . . utilitarian.”
He grinned at me. “Go crazy.”
“I’d bring mine but they’re a little too . . . girlie for the mill.”
“I think the mill might shatter those glasses through angry vibes if you tried,” he joked.
I was not joking when I asked, “If you were put on this earth to take care of me, what was I put on this earth to do for you?”
His brows knit.
“To make me happy,” he said, like I wasn’t quite all there.
“Johnny—”
“To make me laugh.”
I shut my mouth.
“To help me make babies.”
I started to draw circles on his neck with my thumb and I did this in an effort to distract me from needing to cry.
“To give them a good mother because you learned from the best,” he went on.
Okay, now he was totally going to make me cry.
And yet, he wasn’t done.
“To give me a wife made of iron and steel and everything strong all bound up in feathers and kitten fur and everything soft. One I’ll always know loves me. One I’ll always know will never leave me. The going will get tough, and you’ll stick. We’ll fight, and you’ll stick. Our world could rock, Eliza, and there’s one thing I’m certain about, you’ll stick.”
The tear that fell from my eye dropped into his beard.
Johnny moved his thumb to my cheek to sweep the trail of wet it left behind away.
“Have I mentioned the sex kitten who lets me do what I want with her and doesn’t mind lying on me, covered in my cum?” he asked quietly.
I swallowed and replied huskily, “No, you hadn’t mentioned that yet.”
He gave me a gentle smile. “Well, there’s also that.” The smile ran away and he whispered, “He didn’t come back for you because he’s a mammoth asshole, not because you weren’t worth coming back for. And if it takes until you die, baby, and if it takes every dime I have, I’ll do everything I can so you die knowing just how fucking amazing you are and that’s worth anything and everything.”
I could take no more so I shoved my face in his neck.
Johnny slid his fingers in my hair and cupped the back of my head.
It took me some time, but when all he said had settled deep, I asked, “Did you buy the ring?”
“Oh no, spätzchen, doing that up big. You don’t get to know when and you don’t get to know how. It could be dinner and candlelight and champagne, and I might even be moved to get down on a knee. It could be we’re at the shack right after I come back from fishing, bringing up dinner you’re not gonna eat. It could be after I make you come and you’re all soft and wet and sweet for me. It could be over the eggs I make for your breakfast. It could be anytime, but you won’t know the time. I can just promise it’ll be the perfect time. A time I can be sure I’ll remember the look on your face so I can tell our kids the story of when their daddy gave their momma her ring. So right now you know you’re my world and I’m holding on to that for always, but you aren’t gonna know when I’m gonna ask you to marry me.”
“I’m all right with that,” I muttered.
His voice sounded amused when he replied, “Well, that’s good. Now you think we should hit the shower and then maybe eat some dinner?”
I lifted my head. “Can we take a bath instead?”
He looked in my eyes and continued to be the only thing he could be.
All that was Johnny.
“We can do whatever you want, Izzy.”
I smiled at him.
And he smiled back at me.
Then we got out of bed and took a bath.
I moved in with Johnny a week and two days later.
Addie and Brooks stayed at my place rent free for the next month, and the month after that, when her attorney that Johnny paid trounced Perry, she started paying the mortgage.
Perry was awarded one weekend a month of visitation.
He came and got Brooks twice and then never came again.
He also paid child support twice and never paid it again.
During this time, Addie very poorly hid she was falling in love with Toby.
For his part, Toby very poorly hid that he was falling in love with Addie.
Brooks, however, didn’t bother hiding he’d gone head over heels for both the Gamble men.
And just to say, all that was very fun to watch play out.
Deanna and Margot thought so too.
Though Johnny didn’t agree with us.
Johnny didn’t get down on a knee.
But there was champagne and roses on his dining room table and the steaks he made with the garlic and herb cheese I loved so much.
He’d duped me.
First, he cooked all the time. He cooked because he was home first and said he was hungry.
But I knew he did it for me.
Steaks were special but he was a good cook so everything he made was fantastic.
Also, when I moved in, he found out I hit Macy’s Flower Shop every Friday. So he started to have flowers delivered every Thursday.
That was Johnny Gamble.
Yes.
That was my Johnny.
They’d broken ground on the stables that day. The day he proposed. We’d approved plans within a week of him finding a contractor he wanted to go with. They didn’t have a lot of time before there was a danger the ground might freeze so Johnny was paying for double the manpower so I could have Serengeti and Amaretto with me.
I didn’t say a word.
I should have known when I came home and there was a pink shoebox sitting on the island that contained the pair of tie-strap, suede Alexandre Birman sandals I’d been rhapsodizing about on the laptop when Deanna was over the week before.
He was trying to throw me off the scent by being doubly generous.
It worked.
After I put my new wineglass down and was about to pick up my fork and knife to resume eating my steak, he’d murmured, “Give me your hand, spätzchen.”
I’d looked at him and reached out my right hand.
“Other one, Izzy.”
My breath caught and I gave him my left.
He was right.
The ring was extraordinary.
I loved it.
So much, we didn’t finish dinner.
That night, the night of the ring, I didn’t know what woke me.
But I woke.
I realized I was alone in the bed instantly.
I turned.
Johnny was outside, bathed in moonlight, wearing sweatpants and a half-zip sweatshirt with a high collar.
He was standing at the railing, staring through the dark at the creek.
I pulled back the covers and walked down the hall to the bathroom and into the closet with three dogs trailing me (Toby had given Addie and Brooks a rescue, half ridgeback, half we didn’t know. See? Poorly hiding the falling-in-love thing).
I yanked on a pair of Johnny’s thick socks, moved to a different drawer and tugged another of his sweatshirts over my head to cover his tee I was already wearing.
Then me and our dogs headed back out, down the hall, to the door.
We also headed out of it to see Johnny looking our way, frowning.
“Eliza, your legs.”
It was cold, for certain.
I assumed.
I didn’t feel it.
It was then I discovered his ring held magical powers.
It warmed me through and through.
I just walked up to him, fit myself to him and wrapped my arms around him, feeling the alien feeling of my ring shifting on my finger due to the weight of the stone.
I liked that feeling.
He just did the wrapping his arms around me part.
“Why can’t you sleep?” I mumbled into his chest.
“I’m too happy.”
I didn’t know what his answer would be but that was not an answer I’d ever expect.
My head tipped back. “What?”
“I’ll get used to it,” he said to the creek.
“You can’t sleep because you’re too happy?” I demanded his confirmation.
He looked down at me and shook his head. “You’re still not with the program.”
“I always wanna kiss you, Johnny, but right now I wanna know more why you’re standing out in the cold instead of in bed with me.”
“That’s not the program I’m talking about.”
I closed my mouth.
“Never know whether to clue you in,” he muttered.
“It’s always the right thing to clue me in.” I did not mutter.
“I’m a dreamer.”
I stared up at him.
“Always been a dreamer. Always.” He paused then socked it to me. “Since she left. That she being Mom.”
I kept staring up at him but now I was doing it with my chest feeling tight.
“You wanna know what I dreamed, Izzy?”
Unable to speak, I nodded my head.
“I dreamed of winning a pretty woman and making her love only me. I dreamed of living with her at this mill and filling it with babies. I dreamed of keeping those garages strong for my sons to take over when it was their time. I dreamed of living my life knowing things would come and go. My children would be born, my woman and I would raise them and love them, and then they’d move on to live their own lives and be happy. But that pretty woman, my pretty woman, would always be with me. Now tell me, spätzchen, how does a man sleep when he’s living his dreams?”
“I . . . I honestly don’t know,” I replied.
“Obviously, me either,” he said.
“I seem to be able to do it,” I shared.
He stared down at me.
Then he made that noise, his muted roar.
After that, Johnny was kissing me.
I didn’t know how we made it back to the bed.
I did know how I was able to fall back to sleep almost instantly after Johnny was finished with me.
So I obviously didn’t know he didn’t fall back to sleep.
He also didn’t go stand under the stars and stare at the creek.
He lay in bed, holding me.
And he stared at the dark ceiling.
Smiling.
~ THE END ~
Dive into more from Kristen Ashley.
Discover Complicated now!
When small town Nebraska sheriff Hixon Drake meets Greta Dare, the connection couldn’t be stronger, but the timing couldn’t be worse.
Dealing with the fallout of a divorce he never wanted and setting up a new home for his kids, Hix becomes that guy, that one he never wanted to be, and puts a stop to things before they can even start. Protecting his kids, and himself, is his only priority.
Greta, on the other hand, has found the place for her and the brother she adores that’s perfect for them—a sleepy little town in Nebraska. She’s learned from life that there are no hopes and dreams. The only thing to look forward to is peace. And that’s what she works hard to build for herself and her brother. Right up until Hix walks into her life.
Hix can’t fight the pull and stay away from Greta for long. And Greta’s finding it hard not to hope for something more with all the promise that is Hix.
But when the first murder that’s happened in over five decades rocks his small, sleepy county, Hix has got to learn to trust again, convince Greta to take a shot with him, and at the same time catch a killer.
In other words, things are definitely…Complicated.
Turn the page to read the first chapter now!