Reid's Deliverance (The Song, #2)

“You still can.” His gaze connected with hers. “If that’s what you want.”


Him at a barbecue with her, Celine, Ari, and a few of their friends, she could almost see it. That’s not what he meant. “Let’s take a look at the rest of the place.”

She led the way back inside, and they left their mugs in the kitchen.

As he followed her down the hallway, his booted footfalls seemed magnified.

“Here’s the master bedroom.”

His arm brushed hers.

Every nerve ending and pore felt as if it reached out to him. “Well, I should show you the other room. It’s smaller.” Lauren turned and the rubber sole of her sneaker caught traction on the wood floor. Her hand landed on solid muscle.

“Careful.” His hazel eyes held her in place along with his grasp on her arms.

Images and recollections poured in. The warmth of his bare chest underneath her palms, his legs widening hers. Smooth caresses and luscious kisses she never wanted to end.

What was wrong with her? Why was she crying? She laid her hands on his biceps, but she didn’t have the will to push him away. “Jan will be here soon. We should wait up front.”

He pulled her close. His warmth. His scent. The soft kiss to her temple kept her in place. “It’s all right. I’m here for you.”

She leaned in to his embrace. Standing in the arms of a stranger, fantasizing about him and crying for no reason. It was all so wrong, but why did it feel like relief, reprieve, chance, and happiness rolled into one? “But I don’t know you.” More tears welled. “I don’t understand.”

“You do know me, better than I know myself.” He looked down at her. Calm, assured, but hints of desperation showed in his eyes. “But to see it, you have to set aside what your head tells you is reality and follow your heart so you can come back to me. If you still want me.”

Still wanted him? Why wouldn’t she? That is, if he were hers to begin with, but he wasn’t.

He cupped her face. “A few weeks ago, in the midst of a storm, you found me lying at the bottom of the stairs on the back deck. You trusted me and took me in. You followed what your gut told you about me. You even told me about the sketch you discovered in your father’s things. Your worst best day. You were going to throw it away, but I have it because I needed to have a piece of you with me. Please. Believe me. Trust me one more time.”

A car pulled up in the driveway. Jan. She had papers for them to sign. He was buying the cabin. That made sense, but so did what he said.

“Listen,” Reid continued. “Hear me with that part of you who knows who I am. Come back with me and let me show you what I mean.”

Glimpses of images, fragments of feelings pulled together into a jumbled collage. Confusing, intriguing, important. She wanted to understand. Needed to follow him through whatever rabbit hole he took her down for the answers.

Insistent knocking and his gaze battled for her attention. Underneath warnings of uncertainty, strong, unexplained desire welled. Why not go with him? “I’ll do it. So, what happens now?”

He tightened his arms. Excitement and relief sparked in his eyes. “You hold on to me.”

A golden mist surrounded them. Suddenly, the world shifted as if she were hurtling through space. Seconds later, it stopped.

They stood on the top of a hill covered with trees. Higher snowcapped mountains reached up into a bright blue, cloudless sky. This wasn’t Mazree. Here the colors popped with a vividness that made them seem unreal. Shape, texture, even from a distance it was if she could feel the lushness of the landscape. The air floated in her lungs, buzzing through her like a shot of pure energy.

A dream. That would explain why it seemed so perfect and normal. Why she felt so calm about him literally whisking her away to another place. Driving to the cabin. Calling Ari. Waiting for the Realtor to show up. A hot guy looking at her as if she mattered more than anything to him. Yep. Right now, she was lying in bed with a goofy smile on her face, and she was going with it.

“How are you?” His brow furrowed with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“A little dizzy.” She shivered, melding into his body heat. Could a person feel so warm and cozy in a dream? “And cold.”

“Good.” He grinned. You’ve gotten used to it.”

“To what?”

“Tell you later.”

“Just as long as you tell me before my alarm goes off.”

He gave her a quizzical look as he led her toward a blue tent. “Sure. Let’s get you into some warmer clothes. I think I packed everything you need, but if I didn’t, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

“Shouldn’t it work the opposite way?”

“What do you mean?”

For a dream-fantasy guy, he was a little slow on the uptake. “Isn’t this the part where we take off our clothes and make mad, passionate love?”

Nina Crespo's books