Not In My Wildest Dreams (Dream Series)

by Isabelle Peterson

  I asked what her plans were now that she’d come back to California. Silently, I prayed that she wasn’t sure she was going to stay, or that she’d made a mistake and would say that she was packing her things and coming back to New York with me. I wanted to tell her that I’d already made flight arrangements for her to come home with me on Saturday, but as she talked about the opportunities she was looking into here in Napa, I felt about two inches tall.

  “I really think I’d be good at the charity fundraising. I’ve done my fair share with the kids and their schools. It would be nice to work for a larger organization. With a far reaching purpose, you know? I’m going to look into the hospitals and local organizations this coming week.”

  “I think you would be marvelous at whatever you put your efforts to. You know, JSS has many charitable functions throughout the year. You could work for me.” She looked at me, eyes-wide and stopped chewing. “On the West coast here, of course,” I added.

  She nodded nervously, and finished her bite.

  “I’m sorry to have overstepped,” I apologized.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I’m just—” she took a sip of wine. I watched her think. What I wouldn’t give to know what was going through her mind.

  “How’s Phoebe?” I asked, swiftly changing topics. Helping Beth’s daughter get the interview for a network internship, and greasing the wheels for her transfer to NYU cost me a few favors, but if it made Beth happy, it was worth it. Beth relaxed and launched into telling me about the internship Phoebe landed at the network where I’d set up her interview.

  “You didn’t have a hand in her getting that internship, did you?”

  “She got the internship?” I hadn’t heard that she’d gotten the spot. I was so proud of her. She really was a terrific gal. I only hoped that the studio didn’t chew her up and spit her out. “I swear, I only got her the interview.”

  This is what a dinner should be like. Pleasant chatting. Humorous banter.

  Since I’ve gotten home, dinners with Greg have been awkward. I wasn’t sure if it was that way because of my “stunt” as he’d called it, or if that’s how Greg and I just are. Before my trip to New York, he was texting or working on a file during dinner, or wolfing his dinner down so he could get back to work. Since I’ve returned, he just sits there and makes small talk like we’re strangers. The kids, our day, the weather. I know I’ve only been back for five days, and half of those days were at a hotel, but even at the hotel…

  “Can I tell you something?” Jack asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Anything,” I replied, sipping the wine.

  “I’ve been in love with you since the day I saw you at Ed Scott’s eating your salad.”

  “Jack, I—”

  “Let me finish,” he said, quieting me immediately. “Most of my life I’ve dominated women. When I told you that I was a Dominant, it was only part true. I’m actually a ‘switch.’ Sometimes I’m the Dom, sometimes I’m the submissive. But you are the first woman who has dominated my heart. You are the first woman that let those urges subside. I love being with you, and listening to you, and being happy for the things that make you happy. But most of all, I love being with you for how you make me feel about me. I’ve told you before that I’m a selfish man. I want you. Nothing more.”

  I swallowed and let all of that roll over me. The Dom/submissive bit, the love… the happiness. If this were a movie, I had no doubt that he’d be producing an engagement ring.

  Dinner was then set before us, thankfully breaking the tension a bit. When Marcus left, I looked at Jack. I didn’t know what to say.

  “We don’t have to talk about this. Let it sink in, Beth. But I mean every word of it.” He searched my eyes. “Now eat. That’s the Dom in me speaking.” He winked, making me laugh a bit, and blasted me with a huge smile, a smile that radiated from his whole body. Like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, even if that burden was now, in part, dumped on mine.

  “Now, tell me about Phoebe’s internship,” he said, and like that, he moved the conversation into shallower waters.

  CHAPTER 28

  The rest of our dinner was easy going as Beth spoke about Phoebe’s upcoming internship and that Phoebe was going to stay in her old apartment, while Kevin agreed to keep an eye out for her. She asked me if I would, too, which of course I promised I would, and I meant it. Then she dove into talking about Bradley and Carter. Before long, we were sipping espresso and a chill had settled in the valley.

  As we drove home, Beth continued talking about the charity work she was looking into in the area. Suddenly, I couldn’t take it. The nearly full moon sent an impossible glow on her features and I needed to kiss her.

  Quickly, I pulled the car over and threw it in park. I leaned over and kissed her. She tensed momentarily, then moaned and leaned in. Her soft pink tongue licked at the seam of my lips and my cock, already semi-hard all night long from sitting across from her at a hopelessly romantic table for two, was now as hard as steel. My fingers sought the delicate curves of her jawline and neck. I felt a calm rush through me, immediately followed by a consuming need for more. I wanted more, so much more, but not in a rented convertible. Then she sucked in my bottom lip in her super cute and seductive way. Our lips separated and our tongues slipped together. So comfortable and perfect.

  Her arms came up and around my back, her nails raking at my shoulders, driving our passion further. I slid my hand down her front until I found her gorgeous breast, my hand forming around it. I could feel the delicate lace through the salmon silk that separated my hand from its prize. Her nipple was already pebbled.

  I wanted her so badly, but not in a rented convertible. “I’m at the Hilton Sonoma. Come with me,” I urged, my lips not leaving hers.

  I felt her hands at my chest, but they weren’t reaching for the buttons of my shirt. No, she was pushing back. Reluctantly, I let her. Shit. I saw it before she said it. I went too fast. I’d overstepped.

  “Jack, this was a mistake. I came back to Napa to do the right thing. I’m trying to water the grass.”

  “Beth, what we have is no mistake. I know you feel it. Right now you’re listening to your head. But what does your heart say?” I searched her eyes. I could see her heart. She was never very good at disguising her feelings from me.

  “Please, take me home.” She fell silent and melancholy. My heart ached for her. Her struggle was clear on her face, even if it was as plain as day in her heart.

  I drove those last five minutes to her house, with only radio breaking the silence. Part of me was at peace. I had Beth back at my side. But a piece of me was still ripped up inside. She’d pushed me away. I wanted to ask her if she was happy that she’d come home. I wanted to ask her if her husband was treating her right. However, I only wanted to ask those questions if the answers were ‘No’ to both questions, and then I’d drive us straight to the airport and we’d fly back to where she belonged—in New York, with me.

  In her driveway, I turned the car off.

  “Dinner was lovely. It was good seeing you again,” she said, not looking at me. She reached for the handle.

  I hit the button for the lock, stopping her from leaving. “Why did you say yes?” I asked. “Why did you agree to have dinner with me?”

  It wasn’t like Beth to be a tease. She ruled with her heart. She’d said yes because she wanted to be with me. That’s where her heart was safe, and she knew it. I picked up her hand and rubbed my thumb over the back of her knuckles.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m trying to do the right thing. Twenty years—I can’t explain it to someone who’s never been married. I came home to water the grass, but—And then I saw you this afternoon. And I was going to text you and say no—And then he called and needed to work late…” She blabbered, her voice quaking. She bit her lip to stop herself from going on. She was struggling. I hated to see her like this. I sat quietly, letting her talk.

  “What, Jack? What are you thinking
?” she asked.

  She was so strong. I envied her. I was a mess, yet she was strong.

  “Are you happy?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer, her eyes fixed out the window. I searched her profile for the answer, and I could see it. Her jaw slightly tensing. Or maybe I was convincing myself of what I wanted to see.

  “Is Greg taking care of you?”

  Her lip started to quiver. My heart broke. She wasn’t happy. That ass wasn’t treating her right. I pulled her into my arms, kissing the side of her head, when I really wanted those lips again. But now wasn’t the time.

  “It will take time,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t force your heart, Beth. What does your heart say? Because mine is saying that you complete me. Without you, I’m half a man.”

  A tear leapt from her eye and flowed down her cheek. I started to well up as well. Think, Jack! Think! Fight!

  “I have to go see a few more locations tomorrow—for business. Would you like to come? You mentioned you knew the vintners near the restaurant. You could help me get in and scout the place.”

  She turned to look at me wide eyed. “Which vineyard?”

  “I think you said the names were Don and Rebecca??”

  “Dan and Rachel?”

  “That’s it! Yeah. Do you think they would be open to a shoot?”

  “I can call her in the morning. You probably won’t be able to get in until after the lunch hour.”

  “Perfect. Call me when you have our appointment.”

  She laughed softly. “Is this what it’s like to work for you?”

  Her laugh. That’s so much better than her tears. I reached up and dried her cheek with my thumb. “Are you applying?” She laughed again and shook her head again. “Stay put,” I commanded.

  I unlocked the doors and got out, racing around to open her door for her. I helped her out and gave her one last look. I searched for a cue from her that I could kiss her, but her eyes flicked to the front of the house, and I decided against it, in case he was looking out the window at us.

  “Call me tomorrow?”

  She smiled and nodded. With a gentle squeeze of my hand, she then let go and walked to her front door. I waited until she was inside and a couple lights were turned on.

  Unwilling to stand around and see if he was inside and came to her, I returned to my car and pulled out of the drive.

  The moment I stepped inside, and flicked on the lights, I missed Jack’s presence. He made me so comfortable, even with the hard stuff. Telling him that I was home to water the stupid grass. Was Jack right? Was my heart the one I should listen to? Or was it my head? Truth was that my heart did feel complete with Jack.

  I looked at the entry table. Greg’s keys weren’t there, where he’d always left them. I looked at my watch. It was a quarter after ten. Was he still at the office? I looked around the house, ending up in the bedroom, thinking maybe he’d come home so tired and just brought his keys to the room and left them on his dresser.

  Nope. Greg wasn’t home.

  This was wrong. It was all wrong. That I had left three weeks ago was wrong. That I had come home last week was wrong. How had I started down this slippery slope of stupid choices?

  With a heavy heart and not knowing what to do, I slipped into my pajamas and into bed. What was supposed to be a second honeymoon was definitely over. Shit. Who was I kidding? It never began.

  It had been an emotionally exhausting day. Jessica’s doctor’s appointment. Seeing Jack. Greg canceling dinner. Going out to dinner with Jack. I let the exhaustion of the busy day wash over me and put me to sleep, with a small joy in my heart. Tomorrow I would see Jack again.

  Slipping into the house quietly, well after midnight, I checked the bedroom. Elizabeth was tucked into bed and sleeping quietly. Thank goodness. I wasn’t in the mood for her throwing herself at me like a common slut. The wounds were still too fresh, especially when my liver was soaked.

  Whenever she came home from dinners with her girlfriends, she was usually tipsy. And when her new personality, little-miss-I-like-sex, was tipsy, she was aggressive in bed. I should have liked it, but I didn’t. I didn’t like her in control. But the control she wanted me to take, I wasn’t willing to exercise. And all this came from either Jack or Kevin…

  What a bitch!

  CHAPTER 29

  I drove back to the Hilton Sonoma filled with hope. I’d get another day with Beth. But what in the heck was the “watering the grass” shit she was talking about? I felt it was pretty obvious that things hadn’t gone as planned with Beth coming back, and that her ass of a husband wasn’t “trying” as Beth had said back in New York. She was home less than a week and he was letting her go out, not aiming to spend every minute with her? For her to give him that leeway that “it will take time.” Did she really feel that way? Did she really think so little of herself?

  I knew I was an ass for pursuing her, but I couldn’t help myself. She was my breath. But she wasn’t even home a week and he was already bailing on dinner? I felt somewhat guilty for fighting for a married woman, but so much of Beth screamed ‘not-married.’ And there was so much comfort in the two of us. Conversation flowed, we laughed easily, there was no apology when we were together.

  Tomorrow, lunch with Beth in a vineyard. I fired up my laptop and looked for places to supply a picnic lunch. Brittany’s Baskets Catering had great reviews and terrific looking menus, so I ordered a nice French themed basket of cheeses, fresh fruits and bread, with a bottle of Napa Chardonnay. I hoped that a pick up time of eleven would work.

  I could see the whole thing play out in my head. We’d look over her friend’s vineyard for the photo shoot—that wasn’t on the books—I’d deem it perfect, and then I’d pull out the picnic basket, spread a blanket and it would be impossibly romantic. I couldn’t wait.

  The next morning, I was up before the sun. But for my internal clock, which was still on East Coast time, it was already seven in the morning and I was usually working out at this hour. Not one to break with certain routines, I hit the gym, even though it was four a.m. After all, keeping this body in top shape at my age required just as much work as it did when I was twenty.

  Following my workout, I made a couple of business calls to New York, checking in with Becca and Peter. Things were going as scheduled—or rescheduled, as it was, and I could rest easy. Around nine, I put in a call to the Napa Valley Women’s Medical Center for Jessica’s results to be addressed sooner than later, and made a more-than-generous donation to the facility.

  Finally, Beth called around ten and said that Mark and Ana had the more incredible vineyard, that we could visit at noon, and that she’d meet me there. As much as it irked me to let her drive herself to the vineyard, I knew that if I was going to win her back, it was going to be on her terms. So, I agreed to let her drive herself. Besides, it allowed me more time to find this Brittany’s Baskets place and pick up our lunch. She gave me the address for my GPS and made a quick goodbye.

  Not wanting to seem over eager, I took my time and got to the vineyard shortly after twelve. I pulled up into the parking lot and nearly crashed the rental when I got a glimpse of Beth. She was chatting with another couple, but looked up when she heard my car and the smile that burst across her face seized me. She wore a long, white, flowey, hippie skirt with a silk, turquoise tank top. As perfect as the salmon color was on her skin with her hair, the turquoise was equally stunning. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of panties she was wearing, or if she was wearing any at all.

  I got out of the car and fought the urge to run to her, pull her into my arms, and kiss her deeply. Something about this whole region was making me a soft romantic, but I didn’t care. I locked the car and strode up to Beth and her friends.

  “Jack. I was starting to worry that you’d gotten lost,” she smiled. “I’d like you to meet Mark and Ana Lawson. They’ve owned this vineyard for twenty-three years already. Wait until you see the gazebos they have at th
e back of the field by the lake.” I shook hands with Mark and Ana and instantly liked them.

  We toured a few places on the ranch that would make for nice backdrops for a photo shoot. When Ana pressed me for details about the photo shoot, I made up a story about wanting to feature some of the new faces our agency had brought on. I took notes in my iPhone, including my bullshit story, so I could send them to the PR department and pray that they could set something up.

  Around one-thirty, I thanked the gracious couple, and asked if Elizabeth and I could use one of their gazebos by the lake for a light lunch. They said it would be perfectly fine and we parted company.

  “Lunch?” Beth asked, turning to me after she hugged and kissed our hosts.

  I shrugged. “I picked up a little picnic. I hope I wasn’t too presumptive.”

  She looked at her watch. “I guess I have time. What did you bring?”

  I ran back to the car, pulled out the perfectly packed lunch, and returned. She was surprised with the basket and we made our way to the quiet gazebo tucked back off the lake. I unpacked the spread on the floor of the gazebo and watched Beth as she took it all in.

  “I’ve said it before, but you’re amazing,” she said.

  “You are inspiring,” I replied. I reached out and took her ankle, the one that had the temporary tattoo Kevin had given her for her birthday. I rubbed my thumb over where the offending—albeit temporary—ink sat. Then again, I should have her branded as my own. I could just imagine the name Jack Stevens penned permanently around her delicate joint. The thought made me chuckle. I extended my hand and helped her down to the blanket.

  I was opening the wine, which had stayed nicely chilled in a space aged bag when Beth’s phone rang. The ring tone made me laugh. Where she’d assigned her sister an old time car horn, this ring tone was Cindy Lauper’s eighties hit Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.