Chapter 2

Kaida Galloway stood at the edge of a cliff as a salty wind whipped her long blonde hair around her head. Barefoot, she dug her toes into dew-dampened grass as waves crashed into rock thirty stories below. The roar all but muted the cry of gulls circling the Atlantic in the distance. Sunlight streamed through the cloud cover and glittered off the gray-blue water.

A short wave of vertigo hit her, but she didn't step back. Nothing could hurt her here, even though scenarios of plunging over the edge filled her head. She didn't have a clue how she knew no harm would come to her. It was just an awareness. An assurance, much like expecting the sun to set or the electric bill to come.

Like in her other dreams, she wore whatever she fell asleep in the night before. Today's outfit sported a yellow shorts and tank combo with purple butterflies. And, exactly like in previous dreams, she waited. For him.

She didn't know his name and she'd never met him while awake, which only served to remind her she was either completely nutty or extremely creative. Could go either way. But ever since she was a little girl, he'd appeared infrequently. Always at the same age as she was, always in the same location, and always filling her with a sense of completion.

It had begun as an every few months deal until last year when he'd manifested weekly. Then, thirty days ago, he'd started coming each night. A ghost-like, childish friendship had turned into a smitten teenage crush and now hovered in the vicinity of lustful indecency. If she ever dared to tell anyone or even admit the dreams aloud to herself, she'd probably have to consider a padded room as her new residence. As it was, she never wanted to leave her bed because it meant seeing him when she fell asleep.

"It's time for you to return, youngest Galloway."

Kaida whipped to her right and flailed her arms to offset the balance shift. A young woman stood beside her, having materialized from who knew where. Long, curly red hair trailed down to her waist and she wore a white peasant garment over a slim frame. An opal hung from a gold chain around her neck and caught the sunlight. Something about her blue eyes reminded Kaida of someone, but her red lips and quiet confidence radiated a sultry sex appeal. Which was crazy because Kaida didn't go for women.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she blinked at the latest blip in sanity. "Who are you?" Never had anyone but her mysterious stranger ever entered this reoccurring dream.

"Your family will tell you all you need to know." She turned her head and smiled at something in the distance.

Taken aback by her lilting Irish accent, Kaida followed the woman's gaze. Across a grassy clearing teeming with bluebells and buttercups was a stone cottage with a thatched roof. Two women knelt just outside the structure by an herb garden. One a brunette and the other a redhead, they both wore short white sundresses.

"Okay, who are they?" Because they'd never shown up in her dreams, either. Likewise with the cottage.

"They are your sisters. You make three, as fate deemed."

"Huh. All right." She'd play along. Why not? This wasn't real, anyway.

Kaida had always known she was adopted and had been searching for more of her blood relatives ever since her parents had died six months ago. They'd left her a mysterious letter from her birth mother, and that had led her to Six Fates Island off the coast of Massachusetts.

Wait, was that where she was currently? Had all these reoccurring dreams been about her biological family? She glanced toward the women again, but they were gone, as was the cottage. Focusing on the original delusion, Kaida sent her a questioning look.

She smiled at Kaida, and there was something utterly reassuring about the act. Familiar. Maternal. "Come home."

Kaida opened her mouth, but the woman was gone. Just...poof. Into thin air. Placing a hand to her forehead, she tried to wake up.

"You came. This is beginning to be a habit. One I thoroughly enjoy." The familiar male voice from behind her sent ripples of awareness through her every cell.

Slowly, she turned. He walked down the hill on the other side of the clearing not fifty feet away, even though when he'd spoken, it had sounded like he was right against her ear.

Wow. Criminy, he was beautiful. Considering she'd conjured him, she supposed he should be drool-worthy. After all, he was the closest thing to a long term relationship she'd ever had, despite him totally being a figment.

His dark wavy black hair was cut close to his nape, a tad longer on top than the sides, and had a hint of chestnut in it under the sun. Criminally long lashes framed mossy green eyes. Kaida was tall at five-eight, but he towered over her at closer to six feet. As was in her dreams, he, too, seemed to wear whatever he'd fallen asleep in. Wishing it was nothing, she took in his wide shoulders, defined pecs, and washboard abs making a perfect V to what he hid behind a pair of blue checkered flannel pants. Bare feet. Sexy smile that said trust me or don't, he didn't care.

Ropey muscles in his arms flexed as he ran a hand over his neck and stepped in front of her. "Cute pajamas."

She glanced down at herself and back at him. "You, too."

His laugh was rich and just south of nervous. "Well, I've learned my lesson after crashing in bed that night a few weeks ago."

She hummed, smiling. "I did enjoy those boxers. What were they again? Lipstick kisses?"

A wry twist of his lips brought her focus to his unshaven jaw. "I blame my friend's bachelor party. Let's leave it at that." His gaze skimmed over her, heating with the perusal. "I think about you all the time, even when I'm awake."

That had to mean he was an actual person in the real world. Or maybe her subconscious was merely screwing with her. In the past, they'd tried to relay their names or other identifying factors, but a force had always blocked the attempts. Sometimes she'd wake up, other times they'd be flung to opposite sides of the clearing. Once, a violent thunderstorm had manifested out of nowhere.

Not wanting anything to mar this moment, she set her hands on his shoulders, traced the contours of muscle across his biceps. Groaning, he leaned into her touch. He smelled like rain-drenched earth and something forbidden. The warmth from his skin sent a charge through her system. But, like always, it seemed like an invisible barrier was between them. They could kiss and touch, but her senses were dulled. Not at full magnitude.

As if reading her thoughts, he nodded. "I know. I feel the pull, too." Nostrils flaring, he drew a breath and cupped her jaw. "All I can think about is touching you, how much I enjoy it, and when I finally can, it's like being underwater."

That was exactly it. "I wonder why."

He stepped closer, putting all that yumminess in direct contact with her. "Tell me your name. I have to find you, see if you're real when I wake up."

Rain splashed down on them, cool and jarring and sudden. The heavens opened up and a deluge erupted.

Drenched, she laughed. "You know what happens when we get personal." Palms up, she spread her arms, tilting her face toward the sky.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. "You're still here." Keeping his gaze on hers, he brushed his lips against hers, his breath warm in contrast to the cold rain. "Tell me your name."

She tilted her head and spoke against his mouth. "Kaida. My name is Kaida." An immediate dizziness consumed her and she reeled. The edges of her peripheral went dark, and she knew she was waking up.

His grip on her tightened. His green eyes widened in shock and relief. "Brady." As she started to dissolve, his arms fell by his sides. "I'm Brady. Remember that, please."

A piercing screech echoed through her skull and she pressed her palms to her temples. Moaning, she sat up in bed and pried her eyes open. Nondescript patterned bedspread. Plain, polished dresser. Mini-fridge. Green drapes matching the carpet. Suitcase on the floor in the corner.

Yes. Yes, that's right. She wasn't in Iowa anymore. She'd taken a sabbatical from her job at the college, sublet her condo, and hopped a plane to Massachusetts based on nothing more than a letter from a birth mother she'd never known.

In other words, she'd flown over the coo-coo's nest.

The screeching didn't stop and, as her foggy mind cleared the cobwebs of sleep, she realized it was the phone. Dang, did she need coffee. Grabbing the receiver off the nightstand, she muttered, "Hello."