In Your Dreams (Blue Heron 4)

“And are you close with your parents?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“Oh, sure,” she lied.

“Do I know them?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“No, but you might remember my grandmother. Luanne Macomb, my mother’s mother? She lived on Water Street, where I live now. I used to spend summers with her, and then I came to live with her when I was in high school.”

“Why would you leave your parents?” Mrs. Johnson asked, a fierce frown on her face.

“Mom, will you send me to live somewhere for the rest of high school so I don’t have to see Ned all the time?” Abby asked.

“Do it, Mom,” Ned added.

“Didn’t you go there to play sometimes, Faithie?” Jack’s father asked.

“Yep. Em’s grandmother would have a few of us down in the summer. She made the best brownies.” Faith smiled in fond remembrance.

“So where did you grow up?” Mrs. Johnson asked.

“Southern California,” she said.

“Oh, how horrible,” Mrs. Holland murmured. “Well, I guess you can’t help it.”

“It’s actually quite beautiful out there, Goggy,” Faith said.

“Do you see your parents a lot?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“Leave the girl alone!” old Mr. Holland said. “She hasn’t taken one bite of food.”

True. It’d be nice if Jack jumped in here and called off the dogs, but he didn’t seem to be listening.

“I visit a few times a year, Mrs. Holland,” Emmaline said.

“Call me Goggy.”

Do I have to? Em thought. “Goggy it is, then.”

“Good! Since we’re going to be family,” the old woman added slyly.

“Stop it, Goggy,” Honor said.

“Charlie, tell everyone about your match the other day,” Tom said, winking at Emmaline from across the table. “Emmaline, our boy here is becoming quite the boxer.”

* * *

A THOUSAND OR so hours later, Emmaline thanked Honor and Tom once again and led Sarge out into the rain, which felt blissfully cold on her hot face. Jack followed.

The subject of marriage had been broached nine times tonight. Hints about babies, eleven. Goggy (that name!) had expressed her hope that Emmaline and Jack wouldn’t “live in sin”; Pops had countered with the opposite opinion. Abby unsubtly requested more cousins. Pru showed Em a website for sex toys called KinkyKitties, making Abby, Ned and Charlie go into fits of horror and hysterics.

It felt like someone had taken sandpaper to her brain.

Jack had barely said a word. And while she didn’t want to be a weenie, it would’ve been nice if her...her...her boyfriend, curse the stupid word, had come to her aid once or twice tonight. She had to wonder why he’d even invited her in the first place.

She put Sarge in the car; the dog was limp with exhaustion at the moment, though that would change the second she started the engine. The rain was harder now, soaking her hair.

“So that was fun,” Jack said.

She looked at him. He was serious. “Fun? That was fun? That wasn’t fun, Jack.”

He frowned. “It wasn’t?”

“Right, right, you weren’t exactly present, were you? Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Didn’t you? Everyone really likes you.” His phone buzzed, and he looked at it.

“Everyone? Even you? Because you didn’t speak to me the entire time.”

He looked as if he had no clue what she was talking about. “I didn’t?”

“Well, let’s recap,” she said. “I think you said ‘Hi’ and...and that was it. Meanwhile, your grandmother was asking about how long my mother was in labor with me, Mrs. Johnson asked how many kids I thought I’d like to have, then actually wrote down the answer, and your niece wants me to teach her to shoot to kill.”

“That sounds about right. How many?”

“How many what?’

“How many kids?”

“I told her eighteen. Possibly twenty.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “Want to come back to my place?” he asked.

She blinked. Men. “Jack, why are we dating?”

“I have no idea.”

Then he kissed her, the two of them standing there in the rain. His mouth was gentle and soft, his body warm against the cool night. Em was torn between the desire to smack him and...and...and to just keep kissing him, because his hands were cradling her head and her arms were around his waist and he knew what he was doing. Yes, indeed, his mouth moving, lips soft and smooth in contrast to the scrape of his razor stubble. “We’re together,” he murmured against her mouth. “Get used to it.”

She stepped back and sucked in a breath of damp, cold air. “You’re very unpredictable, Jack.”

“In all the best ways. Come up to my place and I’ll show you.” He grinned, and it was like the sun coming out, causing a flare of warmth in her chest. That smile made her legs hot and wobbly. Made her think of blue-eyed babies, eighteen of them. Okay, fine, maybe not eighteen, but a few, anyway.

Being that he was Jack Holland, he got into his truck and started it, completely confident that she’d follow.

And being that she was rapidly becoming one of those swoony, lovesick females, she did.

Men were confusing.

p>

“And are you close with your parents?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“Oh, sure,” she lied.

“Do I know them?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“No, but you might remember my grandmother. Luanne Macomb, my mother’s mother? She lived on Water Street, where I live now. I used to spend summers with her, and then I came to live with her when I was in high school.”

“Why would you leave your parents?” Mrs. Johnson asked, a fierce frown on her face.

“Mom, will you send me to live somewhere for the rest of high school so I don’t have to see Ned all the time?” Abby asked.

“Do it, Mom,” Ned added.

“Didn’t you go there to play sometimes, Faithie?” Jack’s father asked.

“Yep. Em’s grandmother would have a few of us down in the summer. She made the best brownies.” Faith smiled in fond remembrance.

“So where did you grow up?” Mrs. Johnson asked.

“Southern California,” she said.

“Oh, how horrible,” Mrs. Holland murmured. “Well, I guess you can’t help it.”

“It’s actually quite beautiful out there, Goggy,” Faith said.

“Do you see your parents a lot?” Mrs. Holland asked.

“Leave the girl alone!” old Mr. Holland said. “She hasn’t taken one bite of food.”

True. It’d be nice if Jack jumped in here and called off the dogs, but he didn’t seem to be listening.

“I visit a few times a year, Mrs. Holland,” Emmaline said.

“Call me Goggy.”

Do I have to? Em thought. “Goggy it is, then.”

“Good! Since we’re going to be family,” the old woman added slyly.

“Stop it, Goggy,” Honor said.

“Charlie, tell everyone about your match the other day,” Tom said, winking at Emmaline from across the table. “Emmaline, our boy here is becoming quite the boxer.”

* * *

A THOUSAND OR so hours later, Emmaline thanked Honor and Tom once again and led Sarge out into the rain, which felt blissfully cold on her hot face. Jack followed.

The subject of marriage had been broached nine times tonight. Hints about babies, eleven. Goggy (that name!) had expressed her hope that Emmaline and Jack wouldn’t “live in sin”; Pops had countered with the opposite opinion. Abby unsubtly requested more cousins. Pru showed Em a website for sex toys called KinkyKitties, making Abby, Ned and Charlie go into fits of horror and hysterics.

It felt like someone had taken sandpaper to her brain.

Jack had barely said a word. And while she didn’t want to be a weenie, it would’ve been nice if her...her...her boyfriend, curse the stupid word, had come to her aid once or twice tonight. She had to wonder why he’d even invited her in the first place.

She put Sarge in the car; the dog was limp with exhaustion at the moment, though that would change the second she started the engine. The rain was harder now, soaking her hair.

“So that was fun,” Jack said.

She looked at him. He was serious. “Fun? That was fun? That wasn’t fun, Jack.”

He frowned. “It wasn’t?”

“Right, right, you weren’t exactly present, were you? Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Didn’t you? Everyone really likes you.” His phone buzzed, and he looked at it.

“Everyone? Even you? Because you didn’t speak to me the entire time.”

He looked as if he had no clue what she was talking about. “I didn’t?”

“Well, let’s recap,” she said. “I think you said ‘Hi’ and...and that was it. Meanwhile, your grandmother was asking about how long my mother was in labor with me, Mrs. Johnson asked how many kids I thought I’d like to have, then actually wrote down the answer, and your niece wants me to teach her to shoot to kill.”

“That sounds about right. How many?”

“How many what?’

“How many kids?”

“I told her eighteen. Possibly twenty.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “Want to come back to my place?” he asked.

She blinked. Men. “Jack, why are we dating?”

“I have no idea.”

Then he kissed her, the two of them standing there in the rain. His mouth was gentle and soft, his body warm against the cool night. Em was torn between the desire to smack him and...and...and to just keep kissing him, because his hands were cradling her head and her arms were around his waist and he knew what he was doing. Yes, indeed, his mouth moving, lips soft and smooth in contrast to the scrape of his razor stubble. “We’re together,” he murmured against her mouth. “Get used to it.”

She stepped back and sucked in a breath of damp, cold air. “You’re very unpredictable, Jack.”

“In all the best ways. Come up to my place and I’ll show you.” He grinned, and it was like the sun coming out, causing a flare of warmth in her chest. That smile made her legs hot and wobbly. Made her think of blue-eyed babies, eighteen of them. Okay, fine, maybe not eighteen, but a few, anyway.

Being that he was Jack Holland, he got into his truck and started it, completely confident that she’d follow.

And being that she was rapidly becoming one of those swoony, lovesick females, she did.

Men were confusing.

But you know what? She had a sister, and while Angela might be g*y, she was also the smartest person on the continent. She pulled out her cell and hit her sister’s number. “How did it go?” Angela asked by way of greeting.

“Um...I have no idea. He’s happy now. Barely spoke during dinner. I’ve been told I have breeder’s hips. We’re going back to his place.”

Ange laughed merrily. “Time to rock his world?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if I may be so forward, Emmaline,” Angela began.

“I was hoping you would be.” She started up the long winding lane that led to Jack’s house.

“Maybe you need to be a little less...careful? A little more heartfelt? Because I sense that you have very deep feelings for Jack, and perhaps it’s time he knew. He brought you home to his family...maybe he needs a sign from you, too.”

“Like what?”

“That’s where I can’t really help. But you’ll know. You will. I’m heading back now. Would you like me to walk Sarge?”

“No, he’s with me. But thanks, Angela. Thanks.”

“See you tomorrow, darling.”

Em drove up Jack’s long driveway and sat there for a second. Lights went on inside the house, and a warm sensation washed over her. The house was beautiful. The man who owned it was beautiful, and he was waiting for her. And Angela was right. Time to rock his world.

“Come on, puppy,” she said to her dog, wiping off his paws with the towel she kept in the car for just such a purpose. She carried him inside the mudroom and set him down, then took off her coat and hung it on a hook. Lazarus came to investigate, croaked at Sarge, earning a tail wag and a wary head lick, which the cat endured before skittering off.

Jack was lighting a fire as she entered the living room.

We’re together now. Get used to it.

So this wasn’t just for sex or a distraction or a human shield for Hadley. Maybe this was real.

The warmth in her chest seemed to expand.

His phone buzzed on the table next to her.

“Probably one of my sisters,” he said, adding a log. He stood up and came over, looked at the phone. “Yep. I should sell a few off. You want a glass of wine?”

“Sure.” She’d barely had any at dinner.

“I have a nice bottle in the cellar. Be right back.” He kissed the top of her head and went downstairs. He hadn’t said boo at his family’s, but he was making up for it now. She could live with that. She wasn’t perfect, either.

Sarge went over to the fireplace, turned in a circle five times, then curled up. Lazarus approached, warily, then lay down near the puppy’s head.

Aw. They liked each other.

Jack’s phone buzzed again. And again. In fact, it was vibrating right to the edge of the table. Without thinking, Em picked it up before it fell.

And then, before she could even make a case against it, she looked at the screen.

Pru: We like her, Useless. Are you guys na**d already? Don’t let her see those ugly-ass pajamas Honor bought you for Christmas. In fact, burn those.

Faith: You should’ve talked more tonight, dummy. She looked like a deer in the headlights. Tell her she doesn’t have breeder h*ps even if that will come in handy later. Takes one to know one.

Goggy: Wermww ri&ght cmlwlr?.

Honor: She took that like a champ. Tom & I both approve. Charlie too.

Hadley: Jack, I need 2 speak 2 U asap. We belong 2gther. Pls. call asap. I no u still love me. We can work this out!!!

Goggy: qhy ro$(ia we flt rgis

Okay. Jack’s grandmother appeared to be drunk. But, no, Abby had complained about getting seventeen texts from her that day alone.

Hadley’s text—not so nice. The woman really needed to get a clue or some counseling, stat.

But Em was glad Jack’s sisters liked her, which she already knew, more or less. And Jack liked her, and she liked him, way too much...or maybe the right amount. Maybe it was time to go for it. And if she wanted to prove something tonight, a constantly buzzing phone wasn’t going to help.

Maybe she’d just mute it for a little while. It was after ten. She slid the switch over. There.

She and Jack had been together for a few weeks now. And, yes, she’d been wary, given her own romantic past and Jack’s ex-wife being around, not to mention the emotional maelstrom surrounding the accident.

But tonight, she wouldn’t be.

He came back upstairs, and Emmaline stood up.

“So was tonight really awful?” he asked, setting the bottle on the counter.

Rather than answer, she went over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth. Hot, wet, demanding, 100 percent slutty kissing.

Jack didn’t waste time. He grabbed her breeder h*ps and boosted her up on the counter, and Em pulled him close, feeling him hard and solid and hot against her. She slid her hands under his shirt, over his lean stomach, his lightly furred chest, and tugged his shirt off over his head, then let her hands wander down his back, kissing him again, pulling his h*ps harder against her.

Jeans, unfastened.

Then she scootched off the counter, pulled off her sweater, unhooked her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Jack’s eyes lowered and a very gratifying noise came from his throat right before he unhooked her bra, and then she was kissing his neck, his hot, beautiful neck, and bit down on his collarbone. And then the smooth, cool tile of the kitchen floor was against her back, and Jack was on top of her, hard and heavy and hot, while his mouth burned heat on all the best spots until she wriggled free and returned the favor.

So yeah.

Wary no more.

Not when you were doing it on the kitchen floor.

The animals, bless their furry little hearts, stayed sound asleep, despite the noise.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JACK HOLLAND WAS a happy man. For now, anyway.

After the kitchen floor encounter—which, by the way, yes—he’d led Emmaline into the master bathroom, turned on the bath taps and made out with her while the tub filled. Left her to get in while he uncorked the wine and brought them each a glass. Then he got in with her, pulling her back against his chest, so, so glad he’d gone for the big tub when he built the house.

The only sound was the water sloshing if either of them moved and the rain beating against the windows. The puppy came in and tried to drink out of the tub, making them both laugh, and if there was a better sound than Emmaline laughing, Jack didn’t know what it was.

Her skin was creamy and soft, and her body was solid and strong and perfect. After a little while, she couldn’t help notice that he was noticing, and she turned around to face him and they did it right there in the tub.