Roam (Roam Series, Book One) by Kimberly Adams

Author:Kimberly Adams [Adams, Kimberly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Adams Romance
Published: 2013-12-30T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

West’s house was a giant cabin veiled in a forest of trees, the outside barely visible with brown siding and dark green trim. A peaked roof revealed a second floor. The wraparound porch held a few pieces of furniture.

Resisting West’s arms, I insisted I could walk, barely making it to an oversized chair before collapsing.

“It’s so quiet here,” I said, my eyes heavy. Fatigue pulled my eyelids lower, and I rested my head against the wooden chair.

“She’s exhausted.” Logan hurried up the porch steps to me, glancing at West as he unlocked his front door. “I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m picking her up. Unless you’re waiting to hurl me across your yard.”

West pushed the door open, shaking his head. “I’ve got her, just hold the door open.” I barely felt West gather me into his arms but could sense the bitter animosity coming from Logan. “I’m putting her in bed, and then I’ll talk to you.”

“What, your bed? The fuck you are! Put her on the damn couch!” Logan shouted. I’d never heard him so protective of me, and as I tried to speak, the words burned in my aching throat.

Time passed, and I felt West’s hands on my face. “Just sleep, Roam. No one will hurt you. Just sleep.”

. . .

“It’s snowing hard,” he says, looking out the window. “They were right about the blizzard. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”

I understand that I am dreaming immediately. I look for my water mirror; it hangs in the hotel room that I am standing in, just above a red, chenille couch. The bed is on the opposite wall, and the bedspread matches the couch exactly. The hotel room is nicer than the one I dreamt about before, but the decoration is garish.

My hair is blond, and I am wearing a white, loose-fitting dress. The skirt stops above my knees.

I think that it is 1977.

“What is the date?” I ask, turning to West.

I am taken aback for a moment. He is so handsome. He is finally wearing something other than jeans and a t-shirt and has on black suit pants with a white dress shirt. His hair is longer.

“January twenty-ninth,” he answers, turning from the window to walk to me. “Our wedding day.”

I blink, stunned. “We… are married?”

“Julie,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me. “Were you there, at the church just this morning?”

I giggle, and his smile is contagious. “I guess so,” I say. “This is so unreal.”

“This is real,” he hushes against my ear, kissing softly. I shiver, softening at his touch. “I want you… I want to make love to you. Not for a baby. Just to feel you.” He covers my lips with his, his mouth tasting like champagne. I reach for his hair again, fascinated that it still feels the same, in every dream, in every lifetime.

“I want that, too,” I whisper shyly. He chuckles against my throat, lowering his kisses.

“Well, at least we agree on something,” he says, lifting my thin dress over my head in one swift movement.

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