Even In Our Dreams, page 1
EVEN IN OUR DREAMS
FALL IN LOVE AGAIN
BOOK TWO
WILLOW WINTERS
CONTENTS
Even in Our Dreams
Prologue
1. Aubrey
2. Bennet
3. Aubrey
4. Bennet
5. Aubrey
6. Bennet
7. Aubrey
8. Bennet
Epilogue
Also by Willow Winters
About Willow Winters
Copyright © 2023 by Willow Winters
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
EVEN IN OUR DREAMS
Fall in Love Again Book 2
Willow Winters
From Wall Street Journal Best Selling Author, Willow Winters comes a steamy, small-town romance.
Boy meets girl, boy falls for girl… but his friend asks her out first. That was back in high school and she was very much off limits.
A decade later, when he moves back to the small town they grew up in he’s finally given his second chance. This time, he’s taking it before she can slip through his fingers again.
This is book 2 of the Fall in Love Again series.
The Fall in Love Again series will feature Bennet and Bree falling in love on the small-town fictional street of Cedar Lane over and over again while the real world has had other plans for them. Because love is endless and this is what forever means. In any and every life, their love was meant to be. And there’s so much to tell in the dreams where they get to meet again for the first time every night.
PROLOGUE
Bennet
Her rustling under the sheets is what keeps me from falling back to sleep. The bed groans slightly as the alarm goes off but I barely hear it. All I know is that last night was fucking incredible.
I’m in and out of it and as she hums, nudging her nose against my neck and whispers that it’s time to wake up; all I can do is smile. There isn’t a part of me that’s ready to wake up.
It’s a genuine pull against my lips as I grin and tell her, “Nope, I’m not waking up.” Gripping the sheets, I pull them up and over the two of us, wrapping my arms around her as she squeals in protest. I turn to the side, holding her back against mine and smile wider as she laughs. All I can smell is her shampoo and the laundry detergent as she playfully objects.
“Bennet,” she admonishes, although the laugh is still there, lingering in her gleeful tone, “it’s time to wake up.”
Kissing her hair, I ignore her. I keep my eyes closed and live in this moment between holding her and dreaming of her.
It almost doesn’t feel real. She was the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about in high school. The crush I never had the balls to ask out.
Fate brought her back to me a decade later and it all feels like it was meant to be. The other part of me knows it could all crumble so easily. We’ve only just fallen for one another.
There’s so much at risk as she rubs against my arm, “wake up.” She bats at me playfully. All the while I don’t want to. I have the woman I’ve always wanted and a comfortable warm bed. I’d rather stay here and make use of the mattress like we did last night.
“Only if it means I’ll wake up with you in my arms,” I joke with her, and she laughs that sweet sound.
“I’m right here,” she tells me and then says, “You have to get going… before they find out you’re seeing someone.”
Like I said, it’s all brand new. I wish we could just stay in this moment. Where she knows I want her and I know she wants me and nothing else matters.
Cause I’ll be damned but I think I love her… I think I’ve always loved her.
AUBREY
Late late late. Why am I always ten minutes late?
“Thank you so much for not canceling,” I tell the nurse as she walks ahead and opens the door. “It’s absolutely fine,” Ginnie tells me. “We have a ten-minute grace period, but the new doctor is running late anyway.”
“New doctor?” my eyebrow raises as the door squeaks shut and we’re left in the privacy of a sterile examination room. The typical bed draped with that waxy thick paper and stool on wheels in front of a row of boring cabinets is all there is in the room. That and posters of skeletons and body parts that look like they belong in high school anatomy textbooks.
“Scale please,” Ginnie chimes. She’s one of my good friend’s sisters and I nearly joke that I don’t want to, but given how late I am, I toss my purse down on the patient bed and next are the keys, jingling as I drop them down too.
As I slip my tennis shoes off, Ginnie jokes, “You don’t have to strip for this part.” Her cherry red lips form a delighted grin and her chin length blonde curls bob as she chuckles at her own joke.
I laugh too, to be polite but also because the scale doesn’t matter. Least as far as I know it doesn’t. Today is just a checkup and I’ve always been around the same weight since high school. Well maybe five or ten pounds over, but I don’t have to update it on my I.D. and that extra weight is to be expected… since wine exists.
As she taps the little weights to get my weight, I ask her, “You said there’s a new doctor?
“Oh yeah. And new to town,” she purses her lips after mumbling my weight while writing it down on my chart on the clipboard. Once she’s done, she holds it to her chest and sways. “He’s a hottie too.”
She gestures to the bed and I toss my keys in my purse then put my purse on my lap as I take my seat. I practically hug it as I wait for what’s next. It’s been a bit since I’ve been to the Doctors. I probably wouldn’t have even known this hottie doctor was new.
Ginnie is younger by about five years my senior. We didn’t grow up together really since Lauren and I were always enrolled in a grade school ahead of her, but that doesn't mean I haven’t heard all about Ginnie’s dating life. I can only nod as she describes the new doctor and I recount the number of stories Marlena has told me with a bottle of wine in one hand and her phone in the other, texting Ginnie to keep her out of trouble.
“You know my cousin asked him out,” she tells me, before setting down the clipboard on the counter and pulling down the top of her blue scrubs as she sits. “Arm out,” she commands as she drags out a blood pressure cuff from a drawer. “He said no and I haven’t a clue why. They would make cute babies.”
She continues rambling as she gets her stethoscope in place. “Good looking doctor, no reason why he should be single.”
I almost give a comment that maybe he’s secretly dating someone or has a long-distance relationship since he’s new to town, but she looks up to the ceiling, obviously attempting to listen to my pulse.
She whispers under her breath before jotting down the numbers on my chart and clicking the end of the pen as she searches the sheet for any missing information.
Before I can comment, she peers up at me, those blue eyes so very full of naivety, “Well you’re cute - how about you ask him out?”
I can’t help the grin as I huff a laugh and wave her off. “Me? Oh, no. Me and my lonesome are just fine.” I have my books coming day in and day out as I edit them and an easy carefree life. I’ve tried dating and it just … it has not happened. “Dating almost always ends in disaster for me,” I admit. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was excited for a second date. Or the last time I’ve felt attracted enough for a third date. Until this moment I hadn’t realized, it’s been almost two years since I've been intimate with a man. My gaze lowers to my purse which is sitting on top of the location I just thought might have cobwebs.
“A lonely heart isn’t something to ignore,” Nurse Ginnie tells me with a tone that reflects wisdom… even if the mouth it’s coming out of lacks that when it comes to men.
Still, she catches me off guard.
With my lips parted to respond, she cuts me off, “Just undress and put this on.” With a wink, she passes me the thick pastel blue fabric sheet, “And then doctor hottie will join you.” She chuckles again as she leaves and all I do is thank her, pushing down the anxious butterflies that have been asleep forever, but are not disturbed.
I recall every bad date I’ve had since college as I strip, folding my clothes and setting them on the bed. The back half is raised so they have to lay where my bottom just was. It was one bad date after the other. Somehow each one worse than the last.
At that thought, I realize the sheet dressing she gave me must be upside down or backwards. In nothing but my underwear and a sheet, I cluck my tongue, trying to figure this thing out. Why can’t they make it easy like a robe? There are a couple of snaps and ties and I attempt to get it right as the memories flood me.
From bad breath kisses, to being cat fished and stood up.
There’s only so much a girl can take.
I fiddle with the ties, attempting to get it tight, but decide on leaving them be. I’m covered and I’m pretty sure it’s on correctly. With that settled, I lift the pile of clothes and my heavy purse on top.
My feet dangle off the edge and I let them sway, until I remember the last date I went on and how I swore I would never do a blind date again. Mark was an ass. That statement is so true, I nearly say it out loud. As my gaze searches the small room, I see another stool, tucked to the right of the bed. I’m busying trying to balance the clothes whi le kicking out the stool when the doctor’s voice comes through the door.
“Knock, knock. All set?” he asks and my heart stops. I swear I know that voice.
“All set,” I call out and drop the clothes and purse to the new stool beside me. Only the purse is heavy and snagged on the pastel sheet covering me, pulling it down with me and the moment that door opens, it plays in slow motion.
My keys falling out of my purse and clinking to the floor, my hand going up as I yell out, “wait!” as the sheet that’s supposed to cover me slips down. Embarrassment floods my cheeks with heat that must’ve come directly from the sun.
And my crush from high school, with his gorgeous eyes widening, comes in and stares right at my naked left boob, soft nipple and all, that peeks out from the sheet covering I couldn’t figure out how to tie.
Oh, my God, no.
BENNET
“Oh my God, out!” her shriek is clearly heard and yet I hesitate just a second too long.
As I turn, realizing, I’m staring into the mortified face of a woman I can’t believe is even here, my back hits the door, my hand misses the knob and I nearly smack my face against the edge of the door before somehow managing to get the hell out of the room.
Wide eyes from Ginnie meet mine as she pauses in the hall. I wave her off with the clipboard in my hand, pretending that my heart isn’t racing. That it isn’t attempting to gallop out of my chest.
“I’m sorry, all good now!” her feminine voice calls from beyond the door.
Composure. Composure. It takes two deep breaths for me to grab the door knob. Thank fuck I pause before turning it. I have to readjust and wait a moment longer before forcing a polite smile and reopening the door.
There was a professional response I was prepared to say. There was a moment of clarity that came over me before my gaze set on her once again. But the second I realize she is, in fact, Aubrey Peters the comment vanishes into thin air.
My heart races once again.
“I am so very sorry…” she swallows thickly and my eyes are drawn to her collarbone and then up to her slender neck before she finishes, “that was an accident.” She nearly whispers the last bit with a muted laugh lacing her tone. “I do apologize,” she repeats as our eyes lock and I struggle to gather my composure.
After clearing my throat, I manage, “Not a worry, Aubrey. I swear I didn’t see a thing.”
A short huff leaves her and her lips kick up into an asymmetric simper as she stares back at me. As if judging whether or not I did catch a peek of what was beneath her blouse.
My cock reminds me that I did and I lower the clipboard as I ask, “Did you need any help or?”
“No, no, I’ve got it,” she answers and clears her throat, glancing away as that beautiful blush creeps back up to her cheeks.
I pull out the short stool on wheels and have a seat, “It’s nice to see you. We went to-”
“High school. Of course, I remember you,” she says so easily, so sweetly and my blood heats remembering how much I coveted her from a distance all those years ago.
“You were good friends with Tommy.”
“Right right, you two dated back then.”
“Yeah…” she huffs out once again, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Now you two are even though. Got to the same base,” she jokes and then her smile slips. “Maybe that’s a little too soon. A bit awkward,” she adds and then clears her throat, the smile slipping and a more serious expression replacing it.
With both hands landing on her knees, she asks, “So my blood work?”
“All normal,” I answer and flip the page to double check that I didn’t just pull that out of my ass.
All the memories of her across the cafeteria, all the moments our eyes locked and all the tension lays back in my mind as I focus on the checkboxes that run down the clipboard.
“Did you have any concerns?” I question her without looking up, hell bent on doing my job rather than falling trap to nostalgia. She’s probably married by now or at least has a boyfriend and she doesn’t need her doctor taking advantage of her.
She’s quiet a long time and I peek up at her, the paper rustling as I let it fall.
“No, no,” she answers quickly and then shrugs. “Just a checkup.” She licks her bottom lip before tucking it under, her teeth sinking into it.
My cock reminds me that I’m not just a doctor, but also a red-blooded man who has had a crush on Bree for as long as I can remember.
The clipboard clacks as I set it down on the counter. “Everything looks good, no need to adjust your diet, keep taking those vitamins and all should be just fine,” I offer her and then wonder what the hell I just said and praying it sounded professional because all I can focus on is the fact that my erection is only getting harder with every passing second of her hazel eyes on me.
“When you and Tommy broke up… you said you hated athletes, right?”
“Yeah,” she says and then lets her head fall back with a laugh. “Swore them off… even you.” I nearly quit lacrosse when I heard she said that. Would have lost my full ride to college.
To say I was head over heels for her is an understatement.
I let a beat pass, my heart pounding as I wonder if I should say it, but glance down at her left hand and think, fuck it, there’s no time like the present and she’s not wearing a ring. “You’ve never dated a doctor though, right?”
She laughs a short feminine laugh that brings a warmth over every inch of me. This woman has always had some kind of hold on me. If only she knew it.
“Oh my God,” she breaks up the tension. “Sorry, I just… I did get the blood work done for a reason. I’ve been having really bad allergies for a while and the medicine is making me really drowsy all day and-”
“Gotcha,” I straighten my back as I turn towards the clipboard and see what she’s prescribed. “We can get you an alternative easy enough.” I peer up at her and there’s that look again, a longing question in her eyes that I try to ignore. “We can try some things out and see what works,” I offer and swallow, my throat suddenly dry.
“Yeah, I’ve been having some weird dreams with it too.”
I could dream of her for days.
“I’ll get you a script and leave it at the front desk for you,” I offer, letting the clipboard drop to right where it needs to be as I stand. “Anything else, Bree?”
Her lips lift into a gorgeous smile. “You called me Bree,” she murmurs.
“Sorry Ms.--”
“Don’t you dare,” she jokes as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I just really like hearing you say it… is all.”
“Well if it’s all the same to you, you can call me Bennet… no need for Doctor.”
I second guess the statement the second it’s out my mouth. I haven’t dated in years and I’m rusty as all hell. With a nervous smile and short nod, silence settles between us and I think I’ve ruined it.
“Any other concerns before I leave you to it?”
“Just that I’ll be single forever,” she jokes and then her gaze glances between me and the floor.
Single… If I’m not mistaken, she’s hitting on me.
“Are you dating someone?” she dares to ask and that’s when all the blood in my head rushes to my dick.
“I’m not …” I answer, swallowing thickly and making doubly sure that the clipboard is in fact still blocking her view so she doesn’t know exactly what she does to me and how very little control I have around her.
“Me either….” she says and adds, “The worst part about being single is going out to restaurants alone.”
“Do you want a date?” I ask and then reconsider how I phrased the question. “I mean to a restaurant; we can catch up … if you want?”
