Dreaming by the Sea (an erotic paranormal short story) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her friends to simply ask them whether they were well, so the fact Callie had been wallowing in self-pity wasn’t something she was prepared to share. Macy would only tsk and tell her to she’d made her bed—without Derek—and now was the time to pull up her big girl panties.
    “Do you need me for something?” Callie asked nonchalantly, an effort that was spoiled by her breathless delivery.
    “Do you need me? You sound upset.”
    A frown drew her brows together. “Really?” she muttered. “Who is this? Did aliens steal my boss’s body?”
    “Ha-ha. Your voice sounds funny. You gotta cold, hon?”
    “Allergies,” Callie said, wiping her eyes one last time. “That why you called me? You worried I won’t be in to work on Monday?”
    Macy chuckled. “Margie’s already been by your house. Said you looked a little down, and wondered if you were moonin’ over some fine man you kicked to the curb.”
    Slumping against the nearest wall, Callie rolled her eyes. The gift of a small town was also its curse. The grapevine was short as hell. Had someone had seen her watching Derek on her computer? “Am I really so predictable?”
    After a long pause, Macy cleared her throat. “Saw his mama yesterday in the grocery store. She says he’s comin’ home. Be here any day. You gonna see him?”
    Derek’s coming home? Callie gripped the handset hard. No wonder Margie had been grinning. She must have known. “I already told you; we broke up the last time he came home. He hasn’t contacted me so I don’t know his plans.”
    Macy cleared her throat. “Still, the fact he’s back so soon has to mean something.”
    “Maybe he just misses his mom. The last time he left he made it clear we were done.” Callie closed her eyes against a new welling of tears.
    A sigh drifted over the line. “You need a pick-me-up? We could meet at Shooters for drinks.”
    “I don’t feel much like company.”
    “Well, if you need a shoulder to cry on…”
    “Thanks, Macy.” Callie let her gaze stray to the computer monitor where Derek’s stare seemed to meet hers across the distance. “Macy, did I make a mistake?”
    “I can’t tell you that, hon. You had your reasons. Sorry-assed ones, if you ask me. But Derek’s always known what’s important to you. And he knows you don’t trust easy. If he got tired of tryin’ to prove to you that you can trust him, can’t say as I blame him.”
    Why did hearing her perfectly legitimate reasons for saying no make her decision sound stupid? Callie sniffed. “Sure you don’t need me this weekend?”
    “No properties to show. Stay home. Get stinkin’ drunk if you have to. He will show up in town, and you need to be ready.”
    After Callie hung up, she glanced down at her ratty robe. She’d had her cry. And Macy knew she wasn’t much of a drinker, but Callie got her point. She’d spend the weekend memorizing Derek’s photo album and pouring through memories—one last time before she delivered it to his mother and moved on. Had he sent her the pictures as his way of purging her from his past? Derek was lost to her. She’d been the one to let him go, and she had no one but herself to blame for that choice.
    The doorbell rang again, and she rolled her eyes. If her mother was standing on her step, ready to tell her to go after her man seein’ as he was coming home…
    She opened the door. Sunlight blinded her but outlined the tall frame of the man waiting on her porch. Not that she needed to see his features to know who he was. Broad shoulders seemed to span the doorframe. A taut abdomen and narrow hips drew her hungry glance. He wore blue jeans, a tee that stretched over his muscled torso, and his old scuffed cowboy boots. His feet shifted.
    He reached out a finger and tipped up her face. An achingly familiar gesture she’d missed. “Mornin’, Callie,” he said softly.
    Meeting his blue gaze was pure torture—mostly due to her traitorous racing pulse. “Hi, Derek.” He was looking