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"No, I definitely can't deny that." Ian was about to say something about them dating long-distance, having a future, and probably scare the complete shit out of her with his overeager aggressiveness, when the waitress saved him from himself by plunking a plate of eggs and hash browns down in front of him.
Bree had a chicken salad, which she didn't look all that interested in. While he shoveled eggs into his mouth to appease his completely empty stomach, she just played with her fork.
"Ian, why do you think we've been sharing the same dream?"
That was the million-dollar question to which he had no answer. "I don't know. I don't understand things like this, Bree. I've never been . . . spiritual." It was something he had neglected and ignored, frankly, in the need to pay the bills and achieve corporate success.
"But you're not close-minded to such things, are you?"
Ian thought about that. "No. No, not really. I have a hard time wrapping my head around it, but I do realize there are some things we can't really explain. They just are."
Like his rapidly growing feelings for her.
Bree studied Ian's face. He looked sincere, and he had been amazingly open to her discussing being a witch. He was definitely different from what she had assumed he would be like, and she was enjoying his company. It was odd how they weren't the polar opposites she had assumed based on each of their appearances. In fact, they had a lot in common when you got down to the basics, and she liked him.
Really liked him.
And she was about to say something crazy that maybe she shouldn't say, but she figured she acted out of emotion, always had, always would, and if he was going to be with her in any way, he would have to accept that facet of her personality. So she might as well come out of the gate being true to herself, and he could take it or leave it.
So she opened her mind and told him what had been rolling around in her head. "I think that the reason we've been sharing this dream in our sleep state, is because we're sharing a dream in our daytime lives."
His forehead furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that we have the same goals, essentially. We both want to hit the pause button, enjoy family and a house and a relationship. We're both lonely and looking for something with someone. With each other."
There it was. All laid out on tire table in the Busy Bee. Everything she'd been thinking. If he thought she was a flake now, well, she'd save herself some time and potential heartache. If he agreed, then maybe, just maybe, it could be the start of something wonderful.
Ian did look like he'd taken a two-by-four in the face, but he wasn't running out of the restaurant screaming.
What he said was, "Maybe you're right, Bree. After today, I'm willing to believe just about anything."
"Really? You don't think I'm insane?"
He shook his head solemnly, setting his fork down. "No. I think you're amazing."
She'd take that.
* * *
Ian was holding her hand as they walked up her driveway. It was new and strange, but in a giddy, exciting sort of way. It was her house, and they were going to it, a messenger bag filled with his overnight things slung over his shoulder. It was easy and comfortable, like they were a couple, and he did this every weekend.
Her elderly neighbor Edith waved to her, myopic eyes wide with curiosity as she checked out Ian, studying their linked hands. Wonderful. The gossip that Bree Murphy was hooking up would be all over town by morning. Not that Bree cared, exactly, but it would mean a phone call from her mother, and unlike most mothers, there would be no censure. Instead, her mother would be gleeful that Bree was finally getting some, and she would press for details. Bree loved her mother, but she did not want to discuss her sex life with her. She didn't want to discuss her sex life with anyone except the man she was having sex with.
To that end, she glanced up at Ian and said, "You're making me the subject of town gossip."
He looked amused and even had the nerve to wave to Edith. "Do you care?"
"Yes," she lied. "So you had better make it worth my character defamation."
"Sort of like if everyone thinks you're being thoroughly debauched, I really should thoroughly debauch you?"
"You have to admit there's a certain logic to that," she told him as she fished in her purse for her house key.
"I'm all about logic." Ian held his hand out for the keys she had retrieved. "So I'll have to debauch you."
"Damn you." Bree gave him the key chain, letting her fingers slide across his bare skin. She wanted him again, immediately if not sooner.
"I'm going to start now, right here, on your porch."
