In His Wildest Dreams. Debbi Rawlins

a dream, Doc, I can’t help what went on in my sleep. You said so yourself.”

      “You’re right.”

      “You also told me not to hold back or censor myself.”

      “Yes, I did.” It was difficult to maintain her composure when she truly had the urge to smack that innocent look off his face.

      “So why are you looking so pissed off?”

      “I’m not pissed off. That would be unprofessional.” She pushed up her glasses, enormously thankful they hadn’t fogged up. “I’m disappointed that you seem to think this is a joke.”

      “Not true.” He gave his head an emphatic shake. “You may be used to all this blunt talk but I’m not. I have to look for a little humor to ease the tension.”

      Oh, yeah, she was really used to all this. She cleared her throat as she readied the recorder again. “I apologize for misjudging the situation. Please continue.”

      He tried to hide a smile, but she saw it, lurking at the corners of his mouth before he passed a hand over his face and blew into his palm.

      She didn’t believe for a minute that this talk made him uncomfortable. He’d already admitted that he was getting off on it, and that she believed. Because, dammit, she wasn’t making it through this session totally unaffected herself. She’d had to shift twice to make sure he couldn’t see how much her nipples had tightened, and how they pushed against her flimsy bra and thin cotton shirt.

      “Well, Doc,” he said, stretching, his arms wide, his chest broad and muscled under his snug blue T-shirt. “I hate to disappoint you but that’s about it. After they got me out of my pants and started—” A ghost of a smile played about his lips again. “Doing ‘the nasty,’ I woke up. I had urgent business that was best taken care of in the bathroom. But I don’t think you need to know about that.”

      She gave him a disapproving glare in answer, and clicked off the recorder.

      He immediately straightened. “We’re done?”

      “Yes, unless you have another dream you remember.” She almost hated to ask.

      “You’re in luck.” He indicated his notes with a jut of his chin. “The next one I call In Broad Daylight.”

      4

      “HOW DID YOUR MEETING with Nick go yesterday?” Brenda had gotten to Big Joe’s diner first and was already working on a strawberry milkshake.

      “Fine. We had our first session this afternoon.”

      Brenda switched her interest from the milkshake to Emma. “And?”

      “You know I can’t tell you what we talked about. If he wants to discuss his dreams with you, that’s up to him.” Emma stared down at the menu, even though she knew it by heart.

      Even though she always got a cup of chicken vegetable soup and a side of fries.

      “Oh, no, don’t tell me he got to you, too.”

      That ridiculous crack made her look up. “What are you talking about?”

      “I no sooner mentioned his name and your cheeks got pink. What’s up with that?”

      “That wasn’t about Nick.” She sighed with indecision and studied the small jukebox on the table. “He has some rather racy dreams. And that’s all I’m saying.”

      Brenda burst out laughing. “Poor baby. I should have warned you. Nick is totally uninhibited.”

      “Really?”

      At Emma’s sarcasm, Brenda laughed again. “That’s just Nick. He skipped so many grades in school that from the time he was ten he hung out with older kids. At sixteen he started college. Mom and Dad kind of left him alone because he was such an excellent student, and sometimes he hung around with too racy a crowd. Made him immune. Nothing bothers him. He doesn’t mean anything.”

      “Right.” Maybe today she’d splurge and add a chocolate malted to her order.

      “Oh, come on, Em. I know him. I give him a hard time, and yeah, I’ve made cracks about him, but he has a lot of good points. He’s loyal to a fault, a real pushover for the underdog and the best listener. If I ever need an ear or sound advice, I go straight to Nick. Honest, he’s okay. I wouldn’t have offered him up as a sacrifice to your study, otherwise.”

      “Gee, thanks.”

      Brenda slurped up the last drop of her strawberry shake.

      “Think about it. Would you want to tell a virtual stranger about stuff your subconscious dreams up?”

      Emma shifted with unease. No, as a matter of fact, she probably wouldn’t. “Yeah, but we all know that most of it is metaphorical for other things that are happening in our lives.”

      “You may know that, but the rest of us just squirm at the vague recollections the next day.”

      “That’s why this study is important. We should be able to use our dreams as messengers from our inner voices. Let the dreams help solve our waking problems. Look how many cultures considered dreams messages from the gods. In the ancient world, countries like Greece and Egypt, dreams were considered the ultimate form of guidance.”

      “Don’t get huffy. You’ve got to admit, not all your colleagues agree with that theory.”

      “The informed ones do.” Emma pushed up her glasses. In spite of the fact that she was bone-tired, she’d been in a fairly good mood until a moment ago. “Most scientific theories have opponents. That’s why studies are important to prove them.”

      “I’m not disputing that, but merely pointing out that a layperson would naturally be a little squeamish about spilling out their midnight mental escapades.” Brenda’s gaze narrowed. “Why are you so touchy today? It isn’t like you.”

      Emma sighed. Where the heck was their waitress? She needed a malted now. “Sorry if I bit your head off. I didn’t sleep well. Talk about midnight escapades.”

      Brenda leaned forward with interest. “Do tell.”

      She didn’t get it at first, and then Emma realized her friend wanted to hear about her dreams. To Emma’s utter amazement, she almost physically recoiled. The thought of sharing last night’s walk on the wild side made her want to run and hide.

      Brenda laughed. “Not so easy, is it?”

      “It’s not that…”

      “Yes?”

      Bless Callie’s heart. The waitress appeared at the perfect time to take their order. As usual, Brenda was indecisive and had to ask for a description of every special. Emma welcomed the brief respite.

      She was genuinely startled by her own reluctance to share her dream. Reluctance heck, abhorrence was more accurate. Of course the dream did involve Nick and Brenda might misunderstand. Emma herself still hadn’t figured out what her inner voice was trying to tell her. But nor had she tried too hard to figure it out.

      The dream was still so real in her head that she could almost feel Nick’s hands on her skin, palming her breasts, rubbing her nipples, sucking them. Their session today was going to be a nightmare. She’d have to force herself to concentrate and not drift back to last night’s subconscious frolicking.

      She came out of her preoccupation just in time to give her order to Callie.

      And meet Brenda’s expectant gaze. “Well?”

      “Well, what?”

      “You were going to tell me about your dream.”

      “Actually, I was going to tell you why I couldn’t. I don’t remember most of it.”

      “Emma Snow, I can scarcely believe it, but you’re lying through your teeth.”