Sea of Dreams (The American Heroes Series Book 2) (11 page)

“Can you take me back to the hotel, please?” he asked. “I need to get back to the base.”

He seemed rushed so she immediately put the car in gear and headed out. “Sure,” she said. “Do you want me to just take you straight to the base?”

He shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I need to get my truck and it’s at the hotel.”

She pulled into traffic and sped up. “Is everything okay?” she asked softly.

He just picked up her hand and kissed it without answering.  Feeling increasingly concerned, she tried not to let it show but was unsuccessful.

“Will I see you tonight?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know yet,” he replied vaguely. “I’ll give you a call when I can.”

She fell silent as they took a couple of turns and ended up on the road heading for the Coronado Bridge.  Blakesley gunned it and flew over the bridge, passing over the great blue body of San Diego bay without noticing the clear water or bright sky.  She was focused on making it back to the hotel, which she could see from the bridge. 

The bridge dumped out onto Fourth Street and she took a left on Orange, which took her straight to the hotel.  There was a massive parking lot on the east side of the hotel and she pulled in as Beck directed her to his truck.  They found the dark blue Chevy half-ton parked under a tree and she pulled in behind it.  When she put the car in park, he turned to her.

“I can’t even tell you what this day has meant to me,” he said softly. “I just want to thank you. It’s been amazing.”

She stared at him, the big bluish-green eyes beginning to tear up. “You make it sound like I’m never going to see you again.”

He cupped her face with his big hands, kissing her cheeks sweetly. “No, baby girl, not at all,” he whispered. “But I’ve got to go and I really don’t know how long it will be until I see you again.  Something is going on and they need me to be a part of it.”

She sniffled, trying not to cry. “Is that all you can tell me?”

“Yes.”

She accepted it.  “Okay,” she said, her hands moving to his face, his shoulders. “Just… just so you know, I’m only going to be at the hotel another couple of days and then the girls and I are moving in to the house. That’s where I’ll be.”

He grunted with some displeasure. “I really wish you wouldn’t move into the house just yet,” he said. “I’m not comfortable with that old guy living back in the canyon.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

He frowned. “You can use my house. It’s about a half mile from here.”

She shook her head. “That’s such a sweet offer, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that.  My girls are messy and I’d hate to wreck something.”

“You won’t wreck anything.”

“You’re sweet, but I’m going to decline again. Thank you so much.”

He didn’t look happy but he didn’t push. “If you won’t use my house, then can you go to a cheaper hotel for awhile while you get that house under repair? I just don’t get a good feeling from that place and it worries me.”

She shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “I need to think about it.”

He kissed her cheek, her lips. “Please do,” he whispered, pulling back to look at her. “I’ll call you as soon as I can and give you some idea of when I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Please… please take care of yourself.  I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

He smiled and kissed her deeply, tasting her sweetness, inhaling her scent. He would tuck it away in his memory to sustain him for the time they would spend apart.

“I really…,” he caught himself. “I adore you.  Remember that, okay? And I swear I will be back.”

She nodded, her eyes big on him.  “I adore you, too,” she whispered.  “Take care of yourself.”

He smiled and kissed her one last time before bailing out of the car and moving swiftly to his truck.  Blakesley put her car in reverse and backed away so he could pull out.  She sat there, watching him drive from the parking lot.  She prayed it wouldn’t be the last time she ever saw him.

Calling the real estate agent, she rescheduled their appointment for another time and spent the rest of the day on the beach with her girls.  She just didn’t feel like checking out storefronts.  She felt like staying close to home, close to the base where Beck was. 

When he finally called her, sometime around ten that night, it was to tell her that he wouldn’t be able to call her for the next few days.  She understood but she was unhappy.  He was unhappy, too, but he had a job to do, as he soothingly explained to her. She was calmed by his soft manner and sweet words, hanging up the phone after only a few minutes because he had to go.

Blakesley didn’t get any sleep that night, either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

It had been seven days since Blakesley had last seen Beck. Seven long, lonely and depressing days.

Never mind that she just met the guy and never mind that she’d known him less than a week. She felt his absence like a heavy weight, remembering his handsome face and wondering, on the seventh day of their separation, if she had really just dreamed him. Maybe he wasn’t real at all.  She was starting to think he was just a ghost, a wisp of a dream she once held close to her heart.  She just wasn’t sure anymore.

After checking out of the Hotel Del Coronado on Tuesday night, she had moved to an extended stay hotel that was literally over the hill from the house.  It was so close that she could visit the house daily and frequently, meeting with contractors and beginning the slow process of restoring the place. 

Although the structure had been lived in since it had been built, so much of it needed to be updated that she had taken Beck’s advice and checked into an extended stay. It just wasn’t worth it to stay in a house under construction and she felt much better with the girls being in a safe and controlled environment, with clean toilets, clean linens, and all the comforts.  Fortunately, the girls were easy-going enough that staying in a hotel didn’t bother them in the least.  As long as they could watch cartoons, they were content.

The better news mid-week was that their former live-in nanny, who had chosen to stay in Los Angeles when they had moved to San Diego, called Blakesley on Thursday to see how the girls were but also to see if she could have her old job back.  It seemed that she missed the girls very badly and was willing to relocate to be with them.   Blakesley gladly flew Nikki King to San Diego from Los Angeles the next day and picked her up at the airport, much to the delight of the girls.  They had missed Nikki very much, a young woman without a social life who had been taking care of the girls since Cadee was born, and they were one big happy family again.

With Nikki tending the girls, it freed up Blakesley to focus on the house. She had found a contractor with experience in restoring historical homes and by Saturday, he was busy at work getting rid of the spray paint on the walls and repairing the holes. He was also remodeling the kitchen, and the hammering and tearing out of old fixtures was in full swing. They had to be very careful since the floors were the original adobe and so were the walls, so the restoration was slow-going for the most part.  Also, because the house was a State Historical Landmark, Blakesley had gotten the state of California involved and they had sent an art historian to ensure that nothing out of the ordinary was damaged, touched or rearranged.

In all, it had been a very busy week.  On this mild Monday morning, she had arrived at the house mid-morning after dropping Nikki and the girls off at the San Diego Zoo.  She planned to go get them later in the day, after she had seen the house and met with the real estate agent she still hadn’t seen since her arrival in San Diego. 

The contractor was already at the house and as Blakesley entered the family wing, she could see that the green spray-painted wall had been completely repaired.  They were whitewashed again on the imperfect adobe surface, the look of which she loved. Wrought Iron contractors were taking down the big chandeliers in the main room to restore and re-wire them, while a chimney repair guy was unplugging the massive fireplace. 

It was busy already and Blakesley met briefly with the contractor to find out what he was attempting to accomplish for the day.  Satisfied with his punch list, Blakesley left the man alone to do is job as she wandered out through the kitchen to see what the landscaper was doing with the property.

She stood by the edge of the canyon, watching the landscaper and his army of men cut back the overgrowth off to the south.   It was a huge area and she was thinking it might be a good spot for a pool.   She could envision a big play area for the girls.  Shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun, she was watching the landscapers when she heard movement over to her left. 

Climbing up through the bramble was old Mike.  He was looking curiously at the activity going on, startled when he spied Blakesley several feet away.  She was looking right at him.  He fled, ducking back into the overgrowth, and she ran to the edge of the canyon.

“Hey!” she called. “Mike? Where are you going?”

Only the sounds of rustling bushes and birds answered.  Blakesley tried to see down the canyon, straining to catch a glimpse of the elusive former maintenance man.

“Mike!” she called again. “Don’t run away! Please?”

He didn’t respond. She could hear a lot of movement below, but she couldn’t see anything. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from the canyon and back towards the house but was caught off guard by a body in the kitchen doorway.

Beck was standing in the portal.  He wore a snug gray tee shirt, black utility pants, and big black combat boots. His hair was dirty and his face unshaved; she could see it from where she stood, and he also had a big red welt on his left cheekbone.  But all of that was overshadowed by the enormous bouquet of red roses he held and the uncertain expression on his face. 

Blakesley gasped at the sight of him, her hands flying to her mouth as if to hold back her surprise.  Her eyes were wide on him as he smiled timidly.

“Hi,” he said in that gentle, deep voice.

Blakesley realized there was a lump in her throat.  She was so glad to see him that she could hardly breathe.

“Hi,” she replied, swallowing hard.

He took a timid step out of the house, onto the porch, just looking at her.   “I just want to know,” he said softly, “if you still feel the same way you did seven days ago.”

The lump in her throat grew. “You’ve been counting the days?”

He nodded. “It’s been nine thousand, nine hundred and sixty four minutes since I last saw you,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you for every one of those minutes.  I got back to base less than an hour ago and picked these flowers up on the way over here, hoping you still remembered my name.”

She smiled and tears filled her eyes.  Quietly, she made her way over to him, her eyes alight with everything she was feeling. It was glorious and warm and spiritual. She stopped just short of him, letting out a weepy chuckle as she lifted up her right foot.

“Look,” she told him. “I’m not wearing high heels. I’m actually wearing shoes I won’t fall down in when I walk in the yard.”

He laughed softly, looking at the little white tennis shoes on her feet. “I’m proud of you,” he said, his eyes moving back to her face.  “But you could have worn the heels. I would have carried you around.”

She started laughing and the tears rolled down her cheeks. She was at a loss for words, so glad to see him that she couldn’t verbalize it. But he wasn’t rushing at her with his arms open, and she was feeling timid and uncertain, too. She pointed at the flowers.

“They’re gorgeous.”

He extended them to her. “They’re for you.”

She reached out and took them, holding them against her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured sincerely. “They’re the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever gotten.”

His smile faded, his expression growing intense. “I don’t want to freak you out, Blakesley,” he said softly, “but I just wanted to tell you how much I missed you.  All the way over here I was thinking about what I would say to you, but the best I could come up with was that I missed you.  That pretty well sums it up.”

The tears were overtaking her and she moved closer to him, gazing up into his handsome face with the flowers clutched to her chest.

“Yes, I still feel the same way I did when you left me a week ago,” she whispered. “And yes, I missed you as badly as you missed me. I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

His smile returned, only now, it wasn’t timid.  It was bright and sexy. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, lifting her mouth up to him even as he swooped down on her.  The flowers got smashed as he pulled her into a crushing embrace, but he couldn’t have cared less. He had her in his arms again and that was all that mattered.   He swore that he was never, ever going to let her go, not ever.  He could feel her sobbing softly against him and he tasted her salty tears as she threw her arms around his neck.  The flowers ended up on the ground.

Beck had her up in his arms, kissing her so furiously that she could hardly draw a breath. Arms around his neck, Blakesley jumped on him so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and he just held her there, hands supporting her thighs, kissing her happily and passionately.

“I wrote you some letters while I was away,” he said between heated kisses. “I brought them with me.”

“Letters?” she repeated as he suckled her lips.

“Love letters,” he told her, hoping it would send her out of his arms. “I’m not very good at it, but I tried. I wanted to tell you what I was feeling.”

She pulled back to look at him, her lips red from his forceful kisses and her expression serious.

“It’s too soon to say that kind of stuff, isn’t it?” she murmured.

His heart fell a little. “Maybe,” he gently kissed her jaw, her cheek. “Maybe not. I don’t know if falling in love really has a timeline.”

He could feel her breathing quicken. “You’re… you’re falling in love?” she asked.

He sighed, wondering why he had opened his big mouth again. She sounded scared.  “I guess,” he whispered, meeting her gaze. “That’s what I meant about not freaking you out again.  I couldn’t take it if….”

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