He grinned at the dark ceiling.

Then he fell asleep.

Chapter Eighteen

Dream Come True

My eyes slowly opened and, just like yesterday, upon waking, I was profoundly confused.

And just like yesterday, this was because my vision was filled with a criminally attractive smooth-skinned, hard-muscled wall of chest along with the top of Billie’s head pressed to the sculpted ridges of some ribs, Billie’s and my arms slung over a flat, carved stomach.

I blinked and, just like yesterday, the chest was still there and Billie was still there but this time I also felt my bare leg tangled with the soft-cotton covered hardness of Mitch’s.

Oh boy.

Drowsily, I asked myself again how this all happened and how it happened so fast.

Even if I wasn’t just awake, again, with a bare-chested Mitch (and Billie) and was fully cogitating, I wouldn’t have been able to come up with an answer.

Just because my life sucked (mostly, except the part about gentle, sweet, good guy Mitch, Billy and Billie being in it), I decided to give myself a gift and tipped my head back. As I did, I saw a familiar, corded throat, a familiar, strong, dark-stubbled jaw and then I was again, close up staring at Ten Point Five Detective Mitch Lawson’s profile in sleep.

I also saw his lips which now I knew not only could do amazing things when they were pressed against mine but they could also do amazing things when they were wrapped round my nipple.

And thinking these thoughts while looking at his male beauty and remembering last night (before Billie hurled), I couldn’t breathe.

Then the part about Billie hurling came back to me. All thoughts of being in bed again with beautiful Mitch and the maybe more disturbing (but definitely not unpleasant in the least) thoughts of being on Mitch’s couch with Mitch flew out of my head. Only thoughts of Billie invaded.

I looked to the clock and it was six minutes before the alarm was meant to sound. Clearly, Mitch didn’t wake me to check on Billie.

Carefully, I extricated my arm from his stomach and touched Billie’s forehead.

Cool.

Thank God.

I listened to the room. I could faintly hear both of them breathing but Billie wasn’t breathing heavily. She was breathing deeply, steadily and, from what I could tell, healthily.

I closed my eyes and sighed in relief.

No emergency room visit and the bill that went with it.

Mental note: talk to Mr. Pierson about getting them both on my insurance.

Mental note part two: do not think about how much that insurance would cost. I already had enough in my life to freak me out; I didn’t need to make any additions.

Then I cautiously moved away, slid out of bed and pulled the covers back over Billie. As I straightened, Mitch moved and I froze. I watched with bated breath as he rolled to his side, his arm curling around Billie but neither woke. Both of their eyes stayed closed and Billie pressed her cheek to the area under his pectorals.

I stared because Mitch was beautiful in his sleep. But he was indescribably beautiful being a good, kind man who was sleeping wrapped protectively around a sleeping six year old girl. A girl who had a sunny disposition (when she wasn’t barfing or feeling in a shitty mood as a precursor to said barfing) but who also had a shitheel of a Dad whose criminal activities and weaknesses made her unsafe and could have got her hurt.

My beautiful, Teflon-coated cousin had never had this and would never have it with Bill in her life. Not when she had a nightmare and needed to feel safe. Not when she was sick and needed comfort.

Not ever.

Now she had it.

What met my eyes was the stuff posters were made of but knowing the two beings filling my vision, I knew that what met my eyes were what dreams were made of.

How, on God’s green earth, did my life shift so this vision could meet my eyes?

I had no answer for that and I had no time to come up with an answer. I decided instantly Billie was not going to school that day which meant it was good it was my day off. But Billy had to get to school and I had to get him there.

Silently I moved around the bed, went to the chair and grabbed Mitch’s flannel shirt that I’d tossed there yesterday morning.

I shrugged it on and left the room. Closing the door quietly behind me, I hustled down the hall to the kitchen at the same time I re-secured the ponytail that I’d slept in. Once I hit the kitchen, I searched the cupboards and started a pot of coffee then went back down the hall to the bedroom where the kids were sleeping. I walked in and approached the air mattress on the floor where Billy was.

I did a knees-closed squat, gently shook his shoulder, he opened his eyes and looked at me groggily.

“Time for your shower, buddy,” I whispered.

“’Kay, Auntie Mara,” he whispered back without hesitation, got out of bed wearing one of the new pairs of PJs I bought him, loose shorts and a loose tee and he shuffled out of the room to the bathroom.

I decided to get a cup of coffee while he had a shower. I’d go to Mitch’s room and get my stuff to do my business in the hall bathroom after Billy was done so I could have a shower prior to taking Billy to school and Mitch could use his to get ready for his day.

I was standing in front of the coffeepot pouring coffee into a mug with a splash of milk at the bottom; I shoved the coffeepot back into the coffeemaker and set the mug down in order to grab a spoon when it happened.

Two strong arms closed around me, one at my ribs, one at my chest. My body went statue-still but my head tipped down and I saw strong, bare forearms just as I felt lips at my neck.

“Mornin’, baby,” Mitch whispered there and a trill raced up my spine as I experienced a dream come true.

Mitch wrapping his arms around me and whispering a really good “mornin’” to me.

I liked that.

No, I loved that.

And I wanted it every morning for forever.

“Mitch,” I whispered back, unable to say anything else.

His arms gave me a squeeze and his lips didn’t move from the skin at my neck when he asked, “You sleep okay?”

“Uh…” I answered, my vision blurry, my body still solid, my mind awhirl.

Apparently that was answer enough for Mitch because his lips moved from my neck to my ear where he murmured, “I slept f**kin’ great.”

“Um…” I muttered.

“You feel good, curled into me, warm and soft.”

Oh God.

“Uh…”

His arms squeezed. “Though, you’d probably feel better, there wasn’t a six year old between us.”

Oh God!

“Um…”

“Billie’s fever broke,” he informed me.