He loves to talk. He wanted to give you that property, Ryan."
"He said it's helping him out tax-wise," Ryan mumbled doubtfully.
Eve's eyebrows arched. "Well, that may be. But he also thinks of you like a son, Ryan.
You know he lost a child. I think it helps him to be able to do something like this . ..
helps fill in the empty spaces that the death of a child leaves."
"Alistair had a kid?" Ryan asked, genuinely shocked. Never once in all the time he'd spent with the older man had Alistair ever hinted at that fact.
"He doesn't speak of it often, but he has told me that he lost a child years ago. Maybe he felt more comfortable telling me since I'm also a parent," Eve explained when she noticed what must have been a look of shock on his face. "At any rate, you're doing a good thing by accepting the house from him. When are you going to show it to me?"
"How about next Tuesday?" Ryan asked.
"Perfect," Eve replied cheerfully. "I'm looking forward to seeing it after hearing Alistair's and your descriptions. Imagine—you owning a house on Prairie Avenue."
"Come on," Ryan said with a tilt of his chin toward the back room of her store. "You can show me where those shelves are that you wanted me to put together."
Eve clapped once, her blue eyes going wide with delight. "Oh, today is my lucky day.
I've been trying to get you over here to put those shelves together forever."
Ryan shrugged nonchalantly as he followed her. "If forever is the same as a week and a half."
Eve snorted with laughter. "Okay, you caught me exaggerating. Seriously, though," she continued as her gaze sharpened on him. "What'd I do to deserve the favor on today of all days?"
Ryan gave her a smile. "Just figured it was time, Mom."
Now that he had everything in place to take his jaunt through time, Ryan wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. He only knew that his sexual desire for Hope had always been involved in their contact.
He wasn't sure if there was a genuine link or if it was just inevitable that Hope and sex went together like two sides of a coin, but it was the only place he could figure was a good starting point for the journey.
So he stripped off his clothes, lay in the brass bed and engaged in some good, old-fashioned masturbatory fantasizing. Maybe imagination was the key to time travel. If that were the case, what more powerful, vivid type of fantasy was there than that used to instigate sexual arousal?
He stroked his cock slowly, recalling what it had felt like having Hope's soft, elegantly shaped hand doing the same thing. He recalled the scent that he'd caught on her in the bathroom when they'd both been bathing—the fresh, floral fragrance he'd also caught in her book of sonnets and inhaled at her neck during that hyper-vivid dream.
He'd never forget the way she tasted on his fingers. God, he'd give anything to bury his nose in her skin ... to plunge his tongue into her pussy and surround himself in her essence. She'd been so wet when he'd explored her last night. His fingers had glided over her erect clit like he was moving through warm oil. Her pussy had almost been too snug for him to gain entrance at the limited angle the mirror afforded them.
The thought of pushing his cock into that tight sheath made his fist piston over his cock more stridently.
He cursed and forced his hand to drop to the mattress. He didn't want to come. Well, he did, just not right here and right now. Instead he needed to build his desire as he envisioned Hope with as much clarity and focus as he could manage. Something told him this would provide a path to her; that their combined desire melted the barrier of time that stood between them.
He would keep her safe. He would have her. There really wasn't any other possible option as far as Ryan was concerned.
Fifteen minutes later he stood and approached the mirror. She'll be there, he thought, shaping reality with a burst of stubborn will.
He didn't bat an eye when he saw Hope standing in the gilt mirror clutching together the lapels of a robe, the silver filigreed locket gleaming between the V of the dark green fabric, her long, dark hair spilling around her shoulders.
This time he'd known she'd be there.
Hope chastised herself for her modesty when she saw Ryan standing in the mirror, naked, aroused and proud. Her intuition had told her she'd find him there. She'd already locked her bedroom door and stripped out of her clothing, draping her velvet dressing gown over her naked body before she opened the wardrobe door.
She read his lips unerringly this time.
Hope? Can you hear me?
She shook her head sadly. His mouth pressed into a grim line. He pressed one large hand to the glass.