Nora takes charge and changes circumstances, forcing him to stay home so the fatal crash never happens. But dreams can’t last forever. Eventually, she is going to wake up…
EXCERPT
She woke slowly, her head groggy, her body overly warm. That’s it. No more wine. I’m too old for this. Feebly, she kicked at the blankets that seemed to be weighing her down, knowing full well that she would likely not be able to move them without waking up a little bit more.
Her heel came into contact with something hard.
“I knew if we were together long enough, you’d show your true colors,” a sleepy voice said. Something tightened around her waist and something else tickled across her nape. “I married a kicker. I think that should be our slogan on this year’s Christmas cards.”
Nora smiled automatically at the playful tone but as she fidgeted against the heat, a shiver ran down her spine.
She knew that voice. It had haunted her dreams for fifty years.
She bolted upright with far more strength than she realized, the blankets falling away from her as she whirled to face the man curled around her back. He blinked at her as his thick brows drew together in a frown but Nora was frozen at the sight of him.
The square jaw. The long nose. The tiny cleft in his chin she’d always said made him look like a movie star. The dark blond hair waving across his forehead, refusing especially now to behave itself.
And the deep blue eyes, currently gazing at her in confusion.
“What is it?” Marshall asked. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Nora covered her mouth to stifle the hysterical laugh that threatened to bubble out. A bad dream? His death and the time without him had been gut-wrenching.
But he looked the same as he had the day he’d died. And when she looked around the room and noticed the pictures hanging on the creamy walls, the cherry dresser they’d found for a song and refurbished, the shirt lying on the floor where Marshall had always dumped his clothes before crawling into bed, Nora felt like she was in a time warp.
Was she dreaming? She had to be. Everything looked like it had—
She leapt from the bed to run for the bathroom, tripping when the blankets tangled around her feet. As she kicked to get them off, she saw her bare legs for the first time, poking out from beneath the hem of her simple white nightdress.
Smooth. Firm.
She turned her hands around to stare at the back of her unlined fingers.
Young.
Marshall’s head appeared at the edge of the bed. “Is this going to be the new morning show?” he teased, resting his chin on his folded hands to gaze down at her. “Funny. But I think I like you being in the bed better than being next to it.”
Nora met his twinkling eyes and her stomach flip-flopped. Nobody but Marshall had ever created that effect in her. The chemistry between them had been undeniable, all the way from the start. They’d been introduced by her cousin at a Fourth of July picnic, spent the whole day talking and less than a year later had married. They couldn’t wait any longer, though Nora would’ve given Marshall what they both wanted far sooner than that. He had been the lone voice of reason, arguing he wasn’t going to put her in a situation to explain an early pregnancy in case something happened.
That didn’t stop either of them from going down on each other, though. Nora had gotten very good at blowjobs by the time she had a ring on her finger.
