Rick caresses my skin as I speak, “The interesting thing is that I learned something. I was wrong. Reality is better than the fantasy in every way.”
“Proof we are meant to be together, baby,” he says and claims my lips showing me his emotions. He keeps his arms wrapped around me and I fall asleep in his arms.
I wake up at about 3:30 and can’t sleep. I get up quietly and go in the other room to do some work. I know Friday is going to be a full day and Saturday isn’t going to have time left to make up for it. I check my email, social media, and to-dos for the day, update some photos on my social media and price out options for a few new trip requests I’ve received. I go back to the trip Rick asked me to plan for us and review the details, updating the airfare to first class and adding an oceanside couple massage. I’m fidgety and can’t make myself sit still. I hit the pan of brownies, picking at the bits and crumbs around the edges. I’m awake and I don’t want to be. I want to be sleeping and wrapped in my gorgeous man’s arms. But my brain and body aren’t agreeing with me. I finally take the time to get my Instagram started and post a few photos my customers have sent to me. I sit and read my new Hawaii magazine from cover to cover. Still not sleepy. What the fuck? I’ve never had trouble sleeping. What am I freaking out about? Time for a recap: I wanted my hunky boyfriend to move in and he did. All secrets have been shared. Great date night. Ate more brownies than I should have. All caught up on work. Had amazing sex. Okay. It must be that Mom is meeting Rick tomorrow or, oh shit! Sam told me to do another test. Nerves anyone? I don’t want to do another test. It made me sad and I don’t want to reinforce sadness. Maybe next week or if I’m late or something. Why am I worried about Rick meeting my Mom? He was great with her on the phone and even got her to do what he wanted, when I couldn’t.
“Babe.” I hear called from the bedroom.
Shit! I don’t want him waking up alone or getting any strange ideas. I get up and walk into the bedroom to find him sitting up and squinting at me. “Hey. I couldn’t sleep.”
He reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me to him. “I can fix that.” He puts his lips on mine and pulls me over to lay on top of him while he kisses me and kisses me and kisses me. He caresses the curve of my back and runs his other hand through my hair. Touching me possessively, lovingly. Then he starts to tell me a story, “There was once a king who was lonely and sad, but hid it from everyone around him. His court lacked loyalty and had lied to him. His army was his family and they always backed him up, constantly looking out for him—especially the newest and youngest soldier. His castle was empty and the only maidens who wished to visit his royal mattress were merely in search of a conquest or royal title or treasure. The king focused on his kingdom and ruling his army. Ignoring the loneliness which nagged at him, the parts of him which seemed to be dead and his worry about having a royal heir. He went into battle almost daily with his army, calling the shots from the battlefield and being an active participant. Unafraid. But, hid himself away from his personal world inside the castle and maintained special armor protecting himself from his disloyal court and the greedy maidens. Always in need of a woman who loved him and trusted him. A woman to make his queen, for only him to worship. To be his only one and give him an heir. One day after battle, his newest and youngest soldier came to him saying he had found the woman for his bed. The king chastised his young soldier for being focused on pleasure and sowing his oats, but the soldier insisted the king had been sheltered too long and must attempt to remove the armor. The king agreed to send for the maiden his trusted soldier spoke of and from the moment he touched her hand he felt he was under a spell. He left her in his sitting room to consider his battle plan, and when he returned he
