Free Creative License by Lynne Roberts Page B

end up living in a run-down one bedroom apartment barely able to pay the bills?” he finished.
    “Caleb, I didn’t mean—”
    “No. That’s okay. I’m not ashamed of it. You see, even if my dream doesn’t come true, the fact that I pursued it, that I risked and suffered and loved…” He shook his head. “I can’t see regretting that. I lived. I live.”
    “And I don’t?”
    “Do you like being stuck in an office all day? Do you like what you’re doing?” He saw the hesitation in Lily’s eyes.
    “Most of the time.”
    “That’s good. But when you’re old and grey, will you say ‘what if’?”
    This time Lily’s hesitation lengthened. “I will have had a good stable life.”
    “There is more to life than stability, sweetheart.”
    “Can we talk about something else now?” Lily asked, refilling Caleb’s wine glass.
    Caleb wanted to take her in his arms, reason with her. Face it, bud, you want to talk her into staying. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
    “Do I need to?”
    “Hardly.”
    A dimple appeared on her cheek and he wanted to kiss it.
    “Did you and Monique have a good chat after I left?”
    “Good? She quizzed me about you for a half an hour and remembered a date she’d made. I worked for a bit and came home.”
    “What did you tell her?”
    He shrugged. “The truth.” He didn’t add that Monique had accused him of being in love with Lily.
    “What did she think?”
    “She thought you weren’t quite my type, but an improvement upon the last female in my life.”
    “The one you almost married?”
    “Yeah, Arianna.”
    “I guess I should be flattered.”
    “It doesn’t matter to me what Mo thinks, you know.”
    “She’s your friend; she’s looking out for you.”
    “Maybe.”
    “So if I’m not your type, what is your type?”
    He shook his head and leaned forward. “I think you fit me just fine.”
    “Come on, Caleb.” But she blushed.
    “Someone who makes dinner for me when I come home, someone to hold, who will make wild passionate love until the wee hours of the morning, who will encourage and support and will accept all those things from me. That’s my type.”
    Lily blinked, her fork halfway to her mouth.
    “And a good fork fighter is essential.”
    Her smile broke the spell.
    “Drink your wine, Caleb.”
    “I intend to and then I’m going to drink you.” His chest suffused with warmth as he watched the blush rise from Lily’s chest, tinting her cheeks a brighter pink and he could well imagine also tinting the pale skin of her breasts. He was instantly hard.
    She smiled. “Touché.”

    Lily reached into the sudsy water for another plate. “You need a dishwasher.”
    “Why? You’re doing the job just fine.” He kissed the side of her neck, set the wine glass on the counter and grabbed a towel to wipe the table. Tears unexpectedly pricked Lily’s eyes and her hands fell limp in the water. For a moment it had felt real, as though this was reality. It wasn’t. The only thing real between them was the heat that sizzled back and forth whenever they were near. Caleb was like her music—exciting and fun while it lasted but it would fade like mist in the real world of bills and taxes.
    “All done, sugar.” Caleb hung the towel over the edge of the counter to dry and wrapped his arms around her.
    For a moment she leaned into the embrace and closed her eyes. Caleb’s arms felt real. “You haven’t even asked me what’s for dessert.”
    “You made dessert too? Aren’t you the domestic goddess?”
    Lily smiled, slipped out of his arms and walked into the bedroom, Caleb a step behind.
    “That’s my kind of dessert.”
    Lily turned, winked and reached for a bag on the bed.
    “What’s in there?" His eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.
    “Dessert.” Lily reached into the bag and produced a box. Inside the box nestled three jars and two large paint brushes. “Didn’t you say you’d like to paint me sometime?”
    “Yes,” Caleb said slowly,