Man of My Dreams Read Online Free PDF

conversation—I cannot suppress the deafening squeal that comes next.
    “Thanks, babe. I’ll go make the calls now. Give them some syrup. I’ll be right back.”
    After phone calls to my generous in-laws and Grace, I’ve set the plans in motion. I make reservations at our favorite Mexican restaurant and hop into the kitchen, dreaming of frozen sangrias and fresh enchiladas.
     

     
    Okay, so the mall wasn’t a total flop like I’d expected it to be. The girls took adorable pictures with Santa; Charlie actually sat on his lap. Declan got a book he’s been wanting, and I got this super sexy mini dress that I can’t believe I fit in. Stretch marks and muffin top concealed, I’m rocking it.
    “You look so good, Mia. Trying to get lucky tonight, huh?” Grace jokes with me while the guys are at the bar ordering drinks.
    “Trying, not necessarily happening though. Declan already warned me that he would be tired tonight. I thought the ‘I’m tired’ thing was an excuse uninterested housewives made. I’m totally off my game these days.” I glance down at the basket of tortilla chips begging to be plunged in salsa.
    “Oh shut it. You’re insane and you’re not off your game. This is what happens after kids, chicky. I can’t remember the last time Eric and I did it. Come to think of it, I should tell him to get me two sangrias—up his chances for a roll in the hay.”
    Our shoulders shake with silent laughter, but I can’t help feeling disappointed, though I’m not even sure why. “Well our last time was this morning. Declan woke me up with a rather dexterous surprise. I really can’t complain.” I wink at Grace and give in to the chip that’s calling my name.
    “So why are you then?”
    “I don’t know, Grace. He’s been weird lately. I know life isn’t a fairytale, but Declan once was my prince. He’s been distant. I know the kids are a lot to handle, and I know he’s stressed being the sole provider for our family, but…”
    Grace leans over to squeeze my hand. I take that as my cue to gear up for the pep talk she’s always been so good at dishing out. “But nothing, Mia. Everything’s fine, you’re just reading too much into it. You’re stuck in the monotony of motherhood, that’s all it is. Maybe you two should go on a mini vacation. Just the two of you.”
    Dalai Lama strikes again. I want her to be right. I want to suggest this to Declan. The thought of a weekend of talking and cuddling and making love whenever and wherever we please has me mulling over names of nearby cities and hotels, but I just can’t shake this feeling that something’s bugging him. He’s distant and I don’t like it. But I can’t dwell on it or solicit advice from Grace much longer because the guys are heading back to us with our very large drinks.
    As the men approach and extend our frosty cocktails to us, Grace blurts out, “Dec, your wife looks hot tonight. Don’t ya think?”
    I kick Grace under the table, causing her to wince. Subtle, Grace, real subtle. Declan sits down next to me, adjusts his seat and places his arm around my bare shoulders. Even this little bit of familiar contact relaxes me. That’s where his arm belongs—forever around his girl.
    “Yes, Grace, but she always looks hot.” He bows down to kiss the top of my head, then nuzzles his nose in my hair. “Even when she’s in uniform.”
    I giggle at the private joke and the way his breath tickles my ear. I flashback to the way his breath tickled my thigh this morning and a sudden throbbing invades my panties. Okay, so maybe I was imagining things. The effect this man has on me—no amount of time or number of kids can take that away.
    “Oh, God. You two make me sick.” Grace winks at me, and I know with the mere blink of her smoky eye she is reiterating the wise words she spoke moments ago.
    Over our meals we talk a little about the kids and their latest antics. Charlie recently shocked us by pouring a whole glass of apple juice