Welcome to the Dream (A Celeste Cross Book, #1) (4 page)

Celeste hung back, just
outside the doors, ignoring the fact the group had already pushed
on before her.

Miss Redhead grabbed her
phone from her pocket. Her fingers fumbled with it, but Celeste was
too far away to see what she was doing. Perhaps she was taking a
photo, or perhaps she'd just got the sudden urge to text somebody.
But in another moment Miss Redhead was done, and she snapped to her
feet. She locked eyes on Celeste instantly. It was entirely obvious
that Celeste had been staring at her.

Celeste turned on her foot,
her comfortable but far too worn sand shoes crunching on the gravel
before she slipped through the door following the others into the
main hall. It was probably the worst thing to do, and no doubt Miss
Redhead now thought that Celeste had been totally spying on her,
but that didn't stop Celeste from speeding up and half jogging to
find the rest of the group.

My imagination
is getting the better of me.
She thought as she skidded to a halt, the tour guide
glancing her way.

‘
Hurry up, we're just about to
look at the collection of Solomon's own possessions that were left
to the church when he died,’ the tour guide was mopping his brow
with the rolled up edge of his sleeve.

The rest of the talk was
about as boring as the first half had been, and by the time it was
over, Celeste practically ran to her car. So much for getting out
of the heat. Apart from that single stone in the center of the
church that had supposedly depicted a demon, the place was entirely
boring. Then again, what had she been expecting? A circus, a
joyride, an adventure? It was an historical tour of an old
sandstone building, not an action movie.

Celeste ran a sweaty palm
over the thigh of her jeans, trying to dry her fingers so she could
grab the steering wheel properly. For about the
30
^th
time that day, she rued the
fact that she'd put on jeans this morning. But to be fair, it had
been a chilly dawn when she’d set out.

She started the ignition,
flicked the air con onto full, twisting the vents until they blew
right in her face.
Time to go and get lost trying to find Susie's
house.
She thought as
she pulled out from the curb. The other people who had been on the
tour were now making their lazy and languorous way across the grass
outside the church towards an inviting-looking café on the other
side. Celeste had to slow down to be careful not to knock anyone
over. That didn't stop her from darting her gaze to the side and
noting that Miss Redhead was walking back around the flank of the
church in the direction of the graveyard. She was tugging her
mobile phone from her pocket as she walked.

Weird.
Celeste licked her lips, turned
on the radio, grabbed the map that was tucked into the back of the
passenger seat, and pulled it open on her lap.

If she was lucky she
wouldn't get lost, but Celeste was never that lucky. She had a head
for logic and analysis; she was a programmer. But for some sodding
reason she couldn't read maps. Actually, she could read maps, it
was just that she didn't often bother to. She was the kind of girl
who would ignore a tutorial in any game, preferring to use the
trial and error principle of finding her own way. The kind of girl
that hated to be given advice, and preferred to sort it out solo.
And of course, that meant she was the kind of girl who often got
lost, who gave up on nearly every game she tried, and who made more
mistakes than she cared to admit.

But Celeste Cross was
comfortable in her own skin, which was all that really
mattered.

Chapter 3

Celeste Cross

It had taken her two hours
to find the house, even though the drive from Gresham City to the
beautiful three-story building was probably only 15 minutes in
total. She'd gotten lost on every single side road she'd found. At
one point she'd accidentally taken a wrong turn and had come across
a military base. Fortunately she'd had the good sense to turn
around the second she'd seen the massive, gated off area over the
crest of the hill.

According to the research
she'd done, Gresham City had several military bases, one army and
one Navy. Apparently it was a sweet spot strategically, or
something like that. The rocky spruce-covered slopes of the
mountains around the City were used for training, and she'd come
across more than a couple of roads that had sodding great big signs
and boom gates telling her to turn back before she entered
restricted military zones.

Eventually Celeste had found
Susie's house though, and what a relief it had been. The day seemed
to be getting hotter and hotter, and by the time she thrust the
keys into the lock and pushed open the door, she was ready to conk
out on the couch. Instead she dumped her bags in the foyer, kicked
off her shoes, and walked to the kitchen, her sweaty feet slapping
across the polished floorboards. She sucked down two glasses of
water, then splashed her face until her hot pink skin finally
started to cool down.

‘
It's too bloody hot,’ she
groaned as she leaned heavily against the bench before her, her
long hair flicking across her face.

Celeste let out a sigh as
she pushed herself off the bench, latching a hand to her shoulder
as she stretched out her neck. Then, finally fed up with how sweaty
her singlet was, she whipped it off. There was no one else in this
house, and it was on a large section of its own property, a good
100 meters away from the road below, and protected on both sides by
trees.

So it didn't matter if she
walked around in nothing but her bra and jeans. Even if the
particular bra she wore had one strap that kept on coming loose,
making her generous bust jiggle far too much as she
walked.

She placed her hand onto her
brow, and massaged her temples as she wandered from the kitchen,
intending to head to the doors and pick up her luggage.

She froze.

There was a man standing in
her doorway.

She swore, grabbing the
singlet she still held in her hand, and plastering it over her
chest.

‘
Sorry,’ he said quickly,
diverting his gaze to the ground. ‘Suzie asked me to come and check
on you. She said you'd need a hand with the hot water cylinder;
it's got a trick turning it on.’

‘
You're alright,’ Celeste mumbled
as she ducked around the corner back into the kitchen, cramming the
singlet back on.

‘
I can come back,’ the guy called
from the doorway.

When her singlet was firmly
on, Celeste popped her head around the corner. She was absolutely
burning up. If she'd thought she was hot before, it wasn't a touch
on how flushed she was now. Still, at least with her sunburn, the
guy wouldn't be able to tell.

He finally brought his gaze up
from the ground, and not once did he look at her chest. ‘I'm really
sorry, ma'am.’

Celeste let out a very awkward
laugh. ‘Not your fault. I was just . . . ’ She
started to move her hands about, as she always did when she was
nervous. ‘It was just hot so I was . . . I
was . . . getting changed.’

He nodded. ‘I'm Jack West.’ He
leaned forward, offering his hand.

Celeste grabbed it, and let
him do all the shaking. He had a firm, stiff grip, and his hands
were pleasantly dry considering how hot and sweaty hers
were.

‘
Suzie mentioned you,’ Celeste
acknowledged. ‘You're her nephew, right?’

Jack nodded. Then he glanced
down at her luggage. ‘You need a hand getting those up the
stairs?’

‘
Stairs?’ Celeste said
blankly.

He shrugged his head in the
direction of the corridor behind her.

Stairs. Of course, it was a
three-story building, of course there were stairs. Celeste brought
a hand up to her hair, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder.
‘Right, the stairs, sorry. It's a really hot day and I'm out of
it.’

‘
It's been a sweltering summer,
but tomorrow is meant to be even hotter.’ Jack leant down and
grabbed her luggage, hefting it easily. In fact, the very taught,
nicely rounded biceps that were popping out of his green-brown
t-shirt, hardly looked as if they were under any strain at all. But
Celeste knew just how heavy those bags were; she'd packed them
herself. And considering she was meant to be staying here for the
next six months, she'd packed them good. As her mum had said, they
had everything but the kitchen sink in them, and then
some.

Jack carried the bags
through the corridor, and then up the stairs, his heavy-looking
black boots squeaking over the polished wood. He powered up them,
and Celeste found a smile tugging at her lips as she watched him.
He had an incredible build, certainly not what she was used to. The
kind of guys she hung around with were of your average nerd
variety. Nothing wrong with them, but certainly they had their
priority set on the intellectual and not the physical. But this
guy, Jack West – which was a fantastically hot name, now she came
to think about it – he obviously looked after his
physique.

He was clearly in the army;
that green-brown shirt, those heavy black boots, and, of course,
the camouflage pants. So maybe it wasn't so special that he had
such a chiseled body. Still, that didn't stop Celeste from tilting
back and peering at him until he was out of sight.

He had one hell of a
muscular back. Not too muscular though, just right on his tall
form.

He bumped around upstairs,
no doubt hefting her heavy bags into her bedroom, and then just as
quickly as he'd raced up them, he thundered down the stairs, steps
even and quick.

‘
Is that it?’ He nodded towards
the door.

Hah,
no.
She thought as she
gave an awkward smile. After all, her mother had been right; she
really had packed everything she could get her hands on. Hell,
she'd even brought her white telescope, hoping to do some
stargazing from the attic bedroom.

‘
The car is kind of packed,’ she
admitted as she again readjusted her singlet, trying to hide the
sweat marks she knew were there.

‘
Lead the way.’ He turned on his
foot and walked off to the door in front of her, clearly not
expecting her, in fact, to lead the way.

Wow, he is one
attractive man.
Celeste
thought as she pulled at her ponytail, trying to give it a quick
brush through her fingers. It wasn't just his body, it was
everything. He exuded this kind of strong, capable presence. Just
one look in his eyes, and you got the impression he was the kind of
guy who would tackle every problem head on, and would chase down
whatever he wanted with determination and speed.

He had dark, short, hair,
cropped in the universal military style. He had a faint tinge of
stubble over his chin and cheeks. In fact he looked like the kind
of guy who would have a five o'clock shadow about an hour after he
shaved every morning. But it didn't make him look unkempt, it just
made him look well – rugged.

He headed over to her blue
sedan. Suddenly she remembered how messy it was. Celeste was the
kind of girl who would finish off a burger, crumple the paper, and
chuck it into the back seat without a second thought. Her car was
littered with packets, serviettes, pens, notebooks, half-read
novels, and a stash of USB sticks and assorted computer
cables.

Before she could reach her
car though, Jack had pulled open the back door and started yanking
out her luggage. Fortunately he didn't drop her bags, straighten
up, and shake his head at how messy everything was. He just hefted
them and powered back to the house.

This guy is a
machine.
Celeste
thought, as she walked over to the car, pulled open the boot, and
started to wrestle out more of her bags. By the time she'd arranged
them on the gravel by her feet, Jack was already
back.

‘
It's okay; I've got these,’ he
grabbed them before she could, and then half jogged back to the
house.

This time, while he was
gone, Celeste made the effort to peer into one of the wing mirrors,
flicking her sweaty fringe off her face and patting down on her
jeans until they sat right across her legs.

So this was
nephew Jack then.
She
tugged open the driver's side door, pulling her handbag off the
passenger seat.
Susie, you didn't tell me he was so hot.

By the time she wrestled her
way out again, Jack was back, and once again, even though her
singlet had pushed its way up her side, and was probably showing a
little bit too much cleavage, he didn't look anywhere but at her
eyes.

‘
Is this the last of it?’ he
grabbed up the final bag, coming close to her as he did, but once
again, keeping his gaze very even and very respectful.

That just made her think he
was all that much hotter.

‘
I can do the rest. Just little
things, but thank you so much.’ She waved a hand at him as she
talked. She always waved hands at people when she talked. Her
ex-boyfriend used to complain she shouldn't speak in bed, lest she
smack him in the face with the back of her fingers whilst
illustrating some point.