Sweet Dream Lover

by Karen Sandler

  He loved Kat. Thoroughly, completely, overwhelmingly. He loved his ex-wife, no doubt never stopped loving her. It just took these moments in bed, when everything had been wrenched away except his and Kat’s essence, when only souls remained, that he let himself recognize the truth. He loved her.

  And damned if he knew what he was going to do about it.

  * * * * *

  As dawn crept in through the plantation shutters in Mark’s bedroom, Kat lay there with a goofy grin on her face, her body in a state of post-ecstatic bliss. Mark snored softly beside her, one arm covering her breasts, a leg pinning her to the bed. She felt sore in places she’d forgotten got sore after a bout of sex and scrumptiously sensitive in just about every square inch of her body.

  During their marriage, she and Mark had pulled some all- nighters in the bedroom, but none of them compared to the last several hours. The weeks of temptation, her heightened awareness of him, the unavoidable proximity, all conspired to turn her into a sex-mad lovin’ machine. She’d never come so often in such a compressed period of time, even in the heady first days of their marriage. She’d definitely achieved a personal best.

  Would it be too pushy to wake him up for another go-round? She took a peek at the clock. Nearly six-thirty. She dimly recalled an eight o’clock meeting with the CFO, but she could just blow it off. After all, she had a couple of years of restraint to compensate for. Surely, her chief financial officer would understand.

  Before she did any ravishing, though, she’d better visit the bathroom and take care of the usual morning routine. She struck gold when she rifled through Mark’s medicine cabinet, finding a toothbrush still in its packaging and a stash of condoms. They’d exhausted the supply from the nightstand drawer and would need reinforcements if they were to continue their bedroom activities.

  It crossed her mind to wonder who else Mark might have bought the condoms for, but imagining him with another woman hurt so badly, she pushed aside the image. She’d rather play ostrich and hide her head in the sand than contemplate something so painful.

  Too nosy for her own good, she poked around in the cupboard under the sink and unearthed a dim memory. Hidden back in the corner was a jar of chocolate fudge sauce, its lid a bit dusty. She pulled it out and tried to unscrew it, but time and congealed fudge had glued the lid tight. This had been a honeymoon favorite, and she and Mark had found some imaginative places to smear it. She was tempted to bring it into the bedroom, but after two years of disuse, even chocolate turned. She shoved the jar back under the sink.

  He was still asleep when she stepped from the bathroom. The light filtering in through the shutters turned him into a slumbering god, and she understood how Psyche must have felt seeing Cupid for the first time. An ache settled in her chest and for a moment she felt desolate. She wanted something, something she couldn’t articulate, couldn’t quite grasp. The closest she could come was an emotion she didn’t want to let into her mind, not even for a heartbeat.

  This had nothing to do with love. This was sex and heat and passion. Love was a damned slippery thing, fragile and insubstantial and impossible to trust. Her own parents had claimed to love each other once and look where they were now. She and Mark had thought they’d been in love, but it had only been a mistake.

  She returned to the bathroom and replaced the condoms in the medicine chest. Then she quietly gathered her clothes, snagging Mark’s T-shirt to cover the front of her buttonless dress. It smelled divine when she pulled it on over her head and she felt embraced by him. Plucking up the tiny purse with its house key and credit card, she hurried into the living room and made a quick call for a cab. With any luck, the Denhams wouldn’t be up yet in the main house and she could escape unnoticed.

  She couldn’t resist. She took one last look at Mark before she left. Still deeply asleep, his subconscious seemed to notice she was gone because he groped for her, his hand moving across the sheet. Kat jumped back out of sight before he woke.

  Barefoot and bare-legged, she ran up the Denhams’ driveway and out to the street. It must have been a slow morning because the cab came quickly and she was gone before Ian or Mary Denham came out for their paper. The cabbie didn’t comment on her eclectic attire, just asked for the address and drove on without comment.

  The throbbing in her chest persisted as they crossed Mercer Island’s floating bridge toward Seattle. Inexplicably, she felt close to tears. Maybe she should have just stayed until Mark woke, faced him, faced her feelings.

  But then she might have found out something she didn’t want to know. And damn her cowardly heart, she just couldn’t bring herself to face the truth.

  * * * * *

  As full morning beamed through her lacy bedroom curtains, Norma stretched in her bed, wiggling her toes against the warm sheets. Next to her, Fritz was a one-man heat source, his slender body giving off waves of toasty comfort. He had his back to her, but she sensed he was awake and worry niggled at her that he had a mean case of the morning-after regrets.

  Then he rolled over to face her, his face serious, his blue gaze shuttered. Now her heart really squeezed tight and for a moment Norma couldn’t breathe. When he raised his hand to rest on her cheek, she thought she’d scream from the tension.

  “Norma...” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “This isn’t just one night for me.”

  The hold on her heart eased. “Not for me, either.”

  “I...” He took a breath, and his shoulders rose and fell. “I...” He shook his head, shut his eyes. When he opened them again, they were clear as a sweet summer sky. “I love you.”

  “Oh...” English might as well have been a foreign tongue because she couldn’t frame a sentence to save her life. “Oh...”

  “You don’t have to say it back.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “You don’t even have to feel the same.”

  “I love you, too, Fritz.”

  Now he lay there in stunned silence. She would have laughed at his startled expression if she wasn’t afraid he’d take it the wrong way.

  Instead she smiled and rubbed her palm across his cheek, rough with a morning beard. “It’s crazy and nutty and probably entirely inappropriate. I’m more than twenty years older.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” she told him, making sure she saw understanding in his eyes. “It matters because I’m not having any more children and you might want them. Because when you’re my age, I’ll be ready to retire. And even though women live longer than men, you’ll probably have to say good-bye to me first.”

  “I love you, Norma.” He said it with the fervency of youth.

  “It matters,” she said again.“But it doesn’t change a thing. All the logic in the world won’t stop my heart from feeling what it feels.”

  His smooth, unlined brow furrowed. “So you’re not trying to let me down easy.”

  “I’m not.”

  “And you are maybe feeling—”

  “I am,” she said.

  She saw the wheels turning in his head. “Just to get this clear,” he said. “I love you, you love me. We’re going to get married, hang out together, and live until we’re both old and decrepit.”

  She laughed. “I hadn’t thought as far as marriage yet.”

  “Be prepared, I always say.” He eased her back onto the bed, at the same time reaching for the small box on the nightstand. After an imaginative first round last night, he’d hotfooted it out to the local drugstore for enough supplies for the rest of the evening’s activities. She might be forty-eight, but her ever- hopeful body was still launching those eggs.

  After the long, busy hours of the night, their morning lovemaking was a quieter, more leisurely affair, but still extremely satisfactory. Fritz was the kind of lover her husband had never been, patient, inventive, eager to try new things. She felt absolutely spoiled.

  As they snuggled together in the afterglow, Norma’s thoughts drifted as she half-dozed in Fritz’s arms. One interesting idea popped up and r
oused her awake.

  “Your toys,” she said, an image coalescing in her mind. “My grandkids would adore them. Fight over them probably.”

  Fritz went up on one elbow. “I’d love for them to have them. I can make more.”

  She put a gentle finger on his lips. “That’s not where I was going. Your train, the cars...what if they were all filled with chocolates? What if you tied a cellophane bag of mint melties around the elephant’s neck?”

  “The carousel horse could pull a cart heaped with candy.” Enthusiasm sparked in his bright blue eyes. “How about a puzzle box with candy hidden inside?”

  “That would be marvelous.” Taking his hand, she pressed a kiss to it. “You could make a bundle with these toys.”

  “But I can’t build them fast enough. That’s always been the problem.” A trace of doubt flickered in his face. “Sometimes it takes me a week to carve and paint one toy. I couldn’t possibly make enough to make the time worthwhile.”

  “Let’s think this through.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “What do you like best about making the toys? Actually carving them or the design?”

  He brushed her fingers back and forth across his lips. “It’s fun enough to carve them, but I have to admit after I do one, I don’t particularly want to do another just like it. That’s why all my samples are different.”

  “Then you design and make the prototypes.” Excitement built inside her. “Turn them over to a manufacturer to mass-produce them.”

  “I could do that. I could absolutely do that.” He slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Why didn’t I ever think of that?”

  She planted a kiss on his nose. “Because you didn’t have me.”

  “You are brilliant!” He pulled her into his arms for a breath- stealing hug, then lay back, the light of inspiration flaring in his face. “I could make that spider toy I’ve been wanting to do. And the cow...I could never quite work out the mechanism.”

  “Roth would jump at the chance for a product like this. Or Denham.”

  “They can do it together after the merger.” He scooted from the bed, then came around to her side. “I’m starving. Let’s get breakfast.”

  As Norma let him pull her up, she took a peek at the bedside clock. “Half past eight. Oh my heavens, I have to get to work.” She raced for the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, “We’ll get breakfast on the way!”

  She heard his laughter through the door. Other than when her children and grandchildren had been born, she’d never in her life been happier.

  * * * * *

  Kat leaned a bit sideways at her desk, her neck cricked way to the right, and took another look through her open office door at Norma’s empty chair. In the four years Norma had been working with her, she had never once been late. In fact, other than vacations, Norma had never been missing from that chair when Kat had counted on her to be there. Yet this morning, when Kat returned from her abbreviated but still depressing meeting with the CFO, with the clock ticking away toward 9:30, Norma still hadn’t appeared.

  Just as worrisome was Fritz’s conspicuous absence from the condo when she’d arrived there after her flight from Mark’s. She’d fully expected to have to dodge Fritz’s curious inquisition as to her whereabouts last night and had ready a whole storehouse of clever evasions to sidetrack him, but her ex- cousin-in-law must have already left for the morning.

  With her luck, Fritz would probably give her father a full report about how she’d stayed out all night and she’d have to try those clever evasions on, Phil Roth, a much harder audience. She was thirty-two years old and hadn’t had to ask her father for permission for a sleepover for fifteen years, but she still didn’t relish his third-degree about why she didn’t sleep in her own bed.

  Was that the elevator bell? She leaned over even farther, the arm of her chair digging into her side, her aching legs reminding her that she’d done things last night that should only be done by gymnasts and contortionists. She’d just caught a glimpse of Norma stepping from the elevator when her chair wheels slid out from under her. She caught herself before taking a complete nosedive, whacking her elbow on her desk before gaining her feet. When the phone bleated she grabbed it savagely, in a mood to tear apart whoever it was on the other end.

  “You left,” Mark said in a gravelly, grumpy bear voice. “I had a meeting.” It wasn’t even a lie.

  “I overslept.” He yawned, the loudest inarticulate noise known to man. “Should have woke me up.”

  “Sorry.” Lord, she wanted so much to be back in his bed. “I had a meeting.”

  “Still having lunch?” Another ear-blasting yawn. “Thai place?”

  “Yes.” As she reached for her Palm to confirm, she saw the while-you-were-out note from Tess underneath it. “Can we meet at one? C.M. update.”

  “Damn. Can’t make lunch after all.”

  She pictured him stretching every lean, luscious inch.

  “Dinner then.”

  She didn’t even bother checking her calendar. If she had a conflict, she’d cancel. “Dinner would be perfect.”

  He hung up and she had a ridiculous urge to kiss the phone. Three hours ago, she’d have run for her life. Yet she’d just blithely made dinner plans with him.

  Why not? She was young and hungry; it was time she satisfied her appetite. It didn’t have to mean anything.

  When Norma hurried into her office a moment later, her usually impeccable hair looked slightly mussed, her color was high and her earrings didn’t match. Even more peculiar, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

  “Everything okay?” Kat asked.

  “Fantastic.” Norma giggled, then her gaze narrowed on Kat’s neck. “What did you do to yourself?”

  Kat’s hand flew up to check. The spot was tender and now she remembered Mark’s beard rasping her there. “Allergic reaction.”

  “Uh-huh.” Norma’s fingers touched the side of her own neck, her expression thoughtful. Then shock seemed to set in. “Oh, no!”

  “What?”

  “Tell me it wasn’t him,” Norma said.

  “Him who?”

  “Him,” Norma answered without clarifying. “The one you went out with last night.”

  “Garret?” Kat asked. “Wait a minute, how did you know I went out last night?”

  “Because...because...” Norma stared at her, a deer caught in the headlights, then insight lit her face. “Oh!”

  “Oh, what?” Kat narrowed her eyes on Norma.

  Norma clasped her hands in thankful prayer. “It wasn’t him who gave you beard burn.”

  “Him...who...Garret?” The sense of Norma’s bizarre statement sank in. “No! Yuck. That would have been...” She wrinkled her nose, remembering the gorgeous but slick-with- sweat face. “...icky.”

  Norma let out a whew of relief. “Of course not. Because it was...he did call, didn’t he?”

  “Who called? Norma, you’re not making a lick of sense.”

  Her assistant smiled brightly, her attractive face now stunningly beautiful. Did she have a makeover? “Never mind. I have it all figured out now.” She nearly skipped out of Kat’s office.

  Kat rubbed at her eyes, lack of sleep sitting like an evil elf on her shoulder. “Good. At least one of us has.”

  Kat’s phone caroled, the bleating pattern telling her it was an internal call. Effing fabulous. It was probably her father calling to noodge her about where she’d spent the night.

  She grabbed up the phone and said sweetly, “Hello, Dad.”

  A pause, then, “Kat. Hey, sweetheart. Have a good time last night?”

  For a thunderstruck moment, Kat thought her father was asking about her mattress athletics with Mark. Then she remembered Garret. “Does everyone on the planet know I went on a date?”

  “Garret called to ask if you like nouveau French. I told him McDonald’s was more your style.”

  “At least Micky D’s doesn’t put corn fungus on their burgers.”

  “He dragged you to t
he French place anyway, didn’t he?” Her father chuckled. “We’ve scheduled a Kandy for Kids status meeting with the Denhams tonight at Papa Gianni’s. Are you free?”

  “Yes. No.” Remembering Mark, she allowed a few X-rated images to dance in her head. “Already have plans.”

  “Sweetie, you’re not dropping the ball on the Kandy for Kids project, are you?”

  “I’ve got the ball firmly in my glove,” she reassured him, although she hadn’t a clue what game they were playing.

  “The concert alone brought in over a hundred thou. We’ve got high hopes for the black-and-white ball.”

  “Me, too, Dad. Even higher hopes.”

  A moment of mutual silence in honor of their high hopes, then she heard her father’s heavy sigh. “Sometimes, sweetheart, I wish I could have made things different for you.”

  Kat scrunched her brow, completely befuddled. “Kandy for Kids?”

  “Your mom and me. Wish we could have found a way, but we always made better friends than lovers.”

  Kat’s stomach tightened and she wanted to rewind the last few seconds. “Dad, this isn’t really the time.”

  “We knew it couldn’t work between us. But you were so little. And we hurt you so much.”

  Her heart thundered in her chest. She didn’t want to hear any more, had to stop the words, shut them out. Besides, she dealt with this a long time ago with the therapist, child of a broken home, yada yada yada.

  “Geez, Dad, feeling pretty maudlin this morning, are we?” She forced a laugh. “You and Patti have a fight?”

  Silence ticked away. “I just worry about you, baby.”

  Eyes squeezed shut, she grit her teeth against the pain. “I’m fine, Dad. Completely, totally fine. It wasn’t that big a deal.” Another false laugh. “Besides, look what it got me, two extra parents to spoil me.”

  “We all love you, sweetheart.”

  And love hurt. That was the damn bottom line. She forced her thoughts in another direction. “Hey, what did you think of the Chocolate Magic report?”