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“You were twisting, sort of. Seemed agitated. I was debating whether to wake you, but Myrtle flopped across your legs and you got peaceful.”
I sat up, shaking off the weirdest dream I’d ever had. Then I wiggled my toes to make sure they were still there, because looking under the covers would’ve been too obvious. I was not about to admit to my guy that I’d dreamed I was a mermaid. That would blow my hard-ass image right out of the water, pun intended.
“You should probably not wake me from a dream unless it looks dire,” I told him. “In case it’s, you know, one of those dreams.” Because if it was one of those dreams, I needed to experience every detail I could get. Those dreams came for a reason. They were, it turned out, work assignments. You know, for my side gig “consulting” with the cops.
“It looked pretty dire for a second there.”
I glanced down at his sexy chest and asked myself why I was in such a hurry to get out of bed.
It’s not too late, Inner Bitch suggested. Lay the fuck back down.
“You want to tell me about the dream?” he asked. “Another nightmare about the wedding?”
“No, hon, nothing like that.”
There was only just the one, Inner Bitch reminded me.
Yeah, one in which I kissed my new husband on the shore of the reservoir where we lived, then turned smiling to find our family all gazing, horrified, past us. My sister screamed and pointed, so I turned to look.
There were Misty and Christy, my beautiful twin nieces, lying dead in the shallows, their faces in the shell-shards and sand, their hair moving with the waves.
To a person whose dreams sometimes came true, that one was traumatic.
They don’t come true. The ones that do, aren’t dreams at all. More like you do a ride-along inside some killer’s mind, Inner Bitch said. Or a mermaid’s. The one about the twins was just a stress dream. Marry the man, already.
While my wedding nightmare was unlike those other kinds of dreams, it might still portend doom. Maybe all the death was symbolic, rather than literal. But what could a pair of dead nieces symbolize, besides disaster?
I hadn’t told Mason any of the details of the dead twins dream. He knew I’d had a nightmare about the wedding but thought I couldn’t remember details. I had to tell him that much. He’d known something was wrong.
“Rache?” Mason prompted.
I pulled my feet out from under Myrtle and she growled in her sleep. “It was a what-the-hell-did-I-eat-before-bed kind of dream,” I said. Then I frowned, trying to recall. “What did I eat last night?”
“The surf-n-turf at Aiello’s.”
“Well, that explains it, then. Too rich and too delicious. There had to be a downside. I’m good. I’m good.”
He lifted his brows, but he hadn’t sat up yet. Inner Bitch was right, I needed to get back in. I slid myself lower and my phone rang. I glanced at it, and then turned it to show Mason.
He made a pouty lip and flung back the covers. Then he walked naked to the bathroom while I admired the dimples in his perfect ass. The phone had stopped ringing by the time the bathroom door closed behind him, so I had to call my sister back.
Sandra picked up on the first ring and didn’t say hello. “Sorry if I woke you,” she said. “I didn’t realize how early it was until it was too late.”
“I was awake.” I slid out of bed and pulled on a light cotton bathrobe. It was pink, the color as soft as the fabric. I loved the way it felt against my skin, especially in the summertime. “Just got up, actually. About to get some coffee. I finally figured out the timer on the new pot, and if the smell tickling my nostrils is anything to go by, it worked.”
“I’m coming over,” she said. “I have some things to show you.”
I didn’t need to ask what kinds of things. Wedding things. She was as eager to get us wed as Mason was. I had been, too, up until that dream. Damn dream.
“I haven’t showered yet,” I said. “Give me an hour. And bring donuts.”
“When do I not bring donuts?”
I grinned and disconnected.
Myrtle was still sawing logs, and probably wouldn’t wake for another half hour. I heard the shower turn on. When we’d rebuilt after the fire five years ago, we’d done it right. Heated tiles, jacuzzi bathtub, and multiple shower heads.
The most inviting shower in the world, currently occupied by the sexiest guy you know.
