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Authors: Louise Behiel

BOOK: Family Ties
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So last night’s conversation was unusual, the sex incredible and he’d finished one of the best meals of his life. Life couldn’t get much better.

“Gray?”

He looked up at Andie standing at the end of the hall. “Would you listen for Jamie for me? I want to have a shower before ... uhm, a shower before bed.”

Sounded like the lady had some plans for tonight. Maybe the evening was going to get better.

“Sure. Should I go down the hall?”

“How likely is it I’ll be able to shower without interruption if you’re there with me?”

He had to smile. No putting anything past this woman. “Good point. I’ll listen from here.”

“Smart man. Once I’m sure Jamie’s sound asleep, I’ll make it worth your while.” She turned and took a few steps then came back. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

Gray rose, crossed the room and took her into his arms. He held her against him, so she could feel his arousal. “See what happens to me when I think about you in the shower?”

She nodded, eyes twinkling with mischief and desire.

“More to the point, are you inviting me?”

She rubbed herself against him for a second. “Try to leave.”

He broke out laughing until she shushed him. “Don’t wake Jamie or we might never get to bed.”

He rolled his lips and pressed down, hard, to be sure she realized how important her invitation was to him. He liked the kid a lot but wanted her more.

“My lips are sealed.”

She placed a quick hard kiss on his mouth. “I won’t be long.”

He watched her saunter down the hall to her room, sure half of her movements were for his enjoyment only. What a woman. And she was all his.

He couldn’t wait for her to get out of the shower.

His heart might stop before he had her in bed. No doubt about it, one particular part of him was going to explode.

He flicked through the remote, catching glimpses of TV while keeping one ear tuned to the kid. He heard her turn the shower on. Heard her turn it off. Heard the soft sigh of her bathroom door.

Not wanting to appear like a rutting animal, he’d given her some time to get organized, but apparently she wasn’t a patient woman. She’d softly called his name from the hall.

When he glanced up, it felt like he’d been drop-kicked in the gut. Or like someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

She stood there wearing a semi-see-through red nightie-thing which provided tantalizing glimpses of her bare skin while leaving everything to the imagination.

He was hot on her heels faster than a sizzle from bacon. Until he got to her bedroom.

The lights had been turned down. Low. Her bed had been turned back. Low.

Making the contrast of the shiny black sheets against the white blanket seem like the only thing in the room. Except for her. In a red negligee.

He swallowed hard, needing moisture to keep from sounding like a doofus teenager. “If you’re trying to give me a heart attack, you might succeed.”

“You don’t like?” Her brows arched in apparent surprise as she held out one side of the veil she pretended was sleep apparel but was intended to drive a man crazy.

“You know better than that.” He crossed the room and swept her into his arms.

“I didn’t think I could ever want you more than I did last night, but you’ve proven me wrong.” He gently laid her on the bed then arranged her negligee around her. “No man could resist you. Or this.” He ran his hands over the silky material, wishing they were smooth for her. He hated risking a scratch or a mark on her skin from his big rough paws.

Then he noticed her hair. Loose. Unbound. Free. He had definitely died and gone to heaven. Tonight he was taking her with him. Every time.

***


It’s okay, tell me where you hurt.”


My knee.”

She bent down and looked at his knee, rubbed away some of the dirt, then picked him up and carried him to the bathroom. She sat him gently on the counter and ran water in the sink. A soft cloth wiped his face. “My poor little man. Having a hard time keeping up with your brothers, aren’t you?”

He hiccupped and agreed with her, trying to hold back his tears. “They ran away from me.”

She swabbed his knee, making him jerk away. “Mommy’s sorry, sweetie pie. I have to clean it so you don’t get infection.”

He was scared it would hurt but determined not to cry. “Okay.” He bit his lip and pinched his eyes closed.

Then she said, “All done.”

He looked down. Neat. His knee was oozing and bleeding. But when he moved his leg, it hurt. Tears welled up. He couldn’t hold them inside like his brothers did. Maybe you learned that when you got older. Must be, since his dad never cried either.

His mommy put something on his knee then a white pad and covered it with tape. Then she put on another couple of tapes covered by his favorite cartoon characters.


Feel better?” she asked.


Uh huh.” He poked at his knee with one finger. “Still hurts a bit.”


It will for a little while, yet.” She helped him off the vanity. “Do you feel well enough to go and play or do you want to stay inside with me?”

He didn’t answer, considering his options.

His brothers called him a baby when he stayed inside with mommy. They didn’t understand he liked being with her. Felt safe with her.


Greg, you know it’s okay to play inside if your knee hurts, don’t you?”

Looking up at her, he knew she could tell what he was thinking. She always could.

She squatted down in front of him. “Don’t let your brothers convince you it’s more important to be with your friends than somebody who loves you, Greg. Friends and family matter – a lot. But love is more important than anything else.


I love you mommy.” He gave her a hug then went outside to play. Otherwise his brothers would call him a baby.

***

“I love you.”

Gray’s words woke Andie and brought her to complete consciousness.

Not sure what to expect, she turned to him, then swallowed her surprise. He lay on his side, back to her, arms wrapped around his middle as if he had a tummy ache.

Because he mumbled something she couldn’t make out, she leaned in closer. About to lay her cheek against his, she noticed the tracks of tears.

“Mommy? Where are you mommy? I don’t like it here,” he whimpered. His big body rocked, locked in the pain of his dream.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t a good boy, mommy. Please don’t send me away.”

His sobs were heart-breaking.

Wanting to wake him gently, without startling him, Andie placed her hand on his warm shoulder. So much strength. So much passion. But so much pain.

What was he keeping bottled up inside? And why?

She nudged him.

“Leave me alone. I want my mom.” His arm slashed back. Good thing she’d learned how to wake people who were caught in violent dreams.

“Gray, come on honey. Time to wake up. It’s only a dream.”

“No.” The single word broke her heart. “I want my mommy.”

Again she rocked his shoulder slightly. “Come on Gray, wake up.”

Immediately he stopped rocking. His shoulder turned to concrete beneath her hand.

“Ah shit. I had another one, didn’t I?” he asked without moving a muscle.

“’Fraid so.”

He turned over, swiping his arm across his eyes and face. “Sorry hon. It can’t be much fun to sleep with a weirdo who cries in his sleep.” He sniffed then wiped his hand across his face again.

Leaning over him, perched on one elbow, she searched his face. “Don’t ever call yourself that again. To anyone, and especially me.” She wanted to wag her finger in his face, but wasn’t in a position to do so gracefully, so she settled for a hard glare.

“Now tell me what happened in your dream.”

Chapter Twelve
 

He started to shake his head.

“Don’t go all manly on me now. I know enough to ask the kind of questions which will help you interpret the information in your dreams.”

He wasn’t sliding away on this one. For some reason, she knew holding on to him, having a future, depended on him working through his dreams. Her heart made that very clear. So he was going to talk. Now.

“Can we talk about it later?”

“Gray....”

“Let me check the yard. Just because it’s been quiet for the last few days is no reason for me to get sloppy.”

His gaze held her eyes for a moment. Intensity burned deep. “Then we’ll talk, I promise.”

“Fair enough.” She rolled over so he could get up. “Don’t be long, though.”

She watched him slide his long legs into his cut off jeans. Who’d have thought she’d find a man going commando style to be so sexy? Not her. But she did. There was something erotic in the matter of fact way he tucked himself into place. Her senses feasted on the view as he pulled the zipper over curly black hair.

As he walked down the hall, Andie relaxed against her pillow. He’d called for his mommy. At least once, but since he’d been mumbling, she couldn’t be sure if it hadn’t happened more than once.

But he didn’t seem close to his parents, especially his mother. Confused, Andie considered earlier conversations and recalled he’d said his mother was a guilt master.

It didn’t seem reasonable he’d be calling for her although she knew stranger things happened. People often regress in dreams and need or want the things of our childhood.

The intensity of his dreams bothered her. And the tears. He’d mentioned the terrifying nightmares. Then the dreams seemed to have morphed into sadness. But she’d bet everything she had the two were connected. It seemed like a stream of information coming from his subconscious. First the scary parts had been experienced and now he seemed to be coming closer to the roots of his fears. At least usually, it was the pattern for the kids she’d worked with.

Lying there, she crossed her arms in determination, as he unzipped his cutoffs. She would help him get through this, regardless. Maybe once his demons were laid to rest he’d be ready to put down roots and stay with her. Love her.

Like she loved him.

***

“You can’t expect a man to talk sensibly about anything if you’re going to offer yourself like that.”

Andie gazed down then uncrossed her arms. A light flush stained her cheeks. “I wasn’t...uhm not really.”

“Sure looked like it from here.” He shucked his shorts and slid between the sheets with her. “As appetizing as you are, I think we should talk first.” He rubbed his thumb over the red silk, beading her nipple. “But I won’t forget.”

He pushed a pillow behind his back and sat against the headboard, then settled her beside him. It would be easier to talk if he couldn’t see her – couldn’t judge her reaction.

“This one had a little boy who’d skinned his knee. His mom cleaned it and put bandages on the scrape.” Then he remembered. “Actually she put a gauze pad on his knee then added some Flintstone band aids.” He smiled, remembering how much he’d liked Barney and Fred and the gang.

“What’s the smile for?” She turned on her side and faced him.

“I remember the show and how much I liked it as a little kid. I’d sit in the family room with a big old pillow and watch it every day. Mom would have to drag me upstairs for supper. Yubba, dubba doo.” He smiled at his memories.

His smile melted into a frown and he shook his head. Those memories didn’t make any sense.

“What?”

“For a minute I had these...I don’t know what to call them. They felt like memories but since they can’t be true, I don’t know what to call them.”

“How do you know they’re not true?”

“Our television always sat in the living room and Ma never allowed anyone to sit on the floor. Including and especially me.

“Interesting.”

“What do you think it means?”

“On its own, nothing. It’s simply another piece of the puzzle, Gray. When we get enough of them we’ll start to see a pattern and soon after, we’ll have the whole picture.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am. So tell me what else you remember.”

“With the nightmares, I’d wake up tense, my heart pounding. Usually I could go back to sleep.”

“And now?”

“They’ve changed into these family stories. Almost like a movie. Except they’re not about my family.” His mind wandered back over the last few dreams.

“Do you sleep through them?”

“I think I remember them, if they wake me. At least, I can’t recall any others.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

“Why?” He turned to lean over her, needing to see how she reacted to his story. He could only guess what she thought of him. After all, he was lying in a bed with a beautiful woman, talking about his dreams, instead of a lot of other things they could be doing.

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