You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.
             ~ John Lennon

Devin buried his hands in the soft glory of her long honey-colored locks, his fingers running through them from scalp to nape. She arched her neck, exposing the length of it, enticing his hungry kisses. His mouth traveled from earlobe to shoulder, then explored her bare torso from there to one full breast, her nipple puckered, awaiting the moist suction of his mouth.

“Ohhhh, Devin…” she moaned, her body demanding, his body aflame with the same desire, aching for her, pressing his hard length against her, craving the feel of her depths sheathing him, needing their completion as much as she did, his delicious, gorgeous Cath…

“Wake up, son! You’re having a bad dream!”

Devin’s eyelids flew open, startled by the intrusion until he realized he wasn’t with…her…but alone in his bed…with Father staring down at him with concern.

Holy Moly!  What the absolute HECK am I doing lusting after my brother’s girlfriend?!

Sitting up, he said, “It’s…OK. I’m OK now.” He rubbed his face with both hands, willing the dream images from his mind.

“You were moaning so loudly… Are you sure you’re all right?” Father’s earnest concern just made him feel worse.

“Yes. It’s gone now. Can’t even remember what the dream was,” he lied, unable to think of anything better to say to shoo the Old Man out of the guest chamber.

Father gazed down at him uncertainly. “All right. Well…we’ll see you in the dining chamber soon.” He patted his son on the shoulder and left him to dress.

Devin rose and went to the basin by his dresser to splash cold water on his face. Random images from his dream still pressed against his closed eyelids, drawing fresh horror from his heart. This had to stop! How many nights in a row had this dream been intruding on his rest? Four? Five? And now he was moaning so loudly in his sleep that even people in the passageway could hear him?!

He couldn’t recall any other women troubling his sleep like this. And really, it’s not like he thought Catherine was so hot. Well, she was, but she was taken, and most completely so, in her own heart as committed to his brother as if she were married to him. Not that they were married, or likely ever to even be together that way, considering the slow pace of his brother’s movement in that direction. Still…

* * *

He arrived in the dining chamber near the end of the breakfast service. He’d missed out on the muffins but found some toast and jam to go with the black coffee few Below seemed to like. He would never understand their preference for tea but…it left more coffee for him, even at this time of the morning.

Hoping to avoid sitting with Father, he ambled in the opposite direction, toward a group still sitting at a table, although by the looks of their plates, they were close to done with their meal. He asked permission to join them.

Cullen looked up. “Anytime, Devin. Sit yourself down.”

Winslow nodded at him but didn’t say anything, his hands embracing his mug of tea as if about to strangle it.

“Bad night?”

“Huh?” Devin started guiltily.

“Just sayin’, you look like hell. Bad night?” Cullen sat back and waved a hand, indicating the others at the table. “Nobody here slept particularly well. We’re wondering if something’s going around.”

Could it be as simple as I’m coming down with something?  “Same. Dreams were…weird. I woke up to Father staring down at me.”

Winslow shuddered. The others snickered. Amos piped up with, “That’d be worse than bad dreams!”

“Well, time for me to get crackin’.” Winslow slurped down the last of his tea and rose. “Comin’, Amos?”

Soon Devin was left alone to contemplate the grounds in his coffee, still trying to figure out what Catherine Chandler was doing in his dreams.

* * *

“What’s been bothering you?”

Trust Vincent to always know when I’m out of sorts.  Damn it.

They were sitting on a ledge overlooking the falls, one of their favorite getaway spots as youngsters, since Father had always found the climb hard to make, even before his bad hip forced him to use a cane.

“Nothing, really. Bad dreams.” He shrugged, unwilling to get into it further. “So, how’s things with the lawyer lady you like?”

His brother smiled. “My ‘lawyer lady’ is fine. We are fine. It’s you who are not fine. Tell me.”

Damn damn damn…

“I’d rather not get into it. Dredging it up just gives it more power than it should have, you know?” Dropitdropitdropit…

“Perhaps bringing it into the light will expose its weakness, make it seem less daunting.” After enduring a prolonged silence, he added, “Well, if you ever wish to discuss it, I’m here.”

Devin nodded, which was all he could do when he was mentally revisiting flashes of bare flesh and hearing soft moans and feeling himself harden just trying not to think about those dreams…

* * *

A woman appeared at the top of the steps leading to Father’s study. He’d been watching Vincent make short work of a game of chess with Father when he’d heard her voice, turning as she came down to greet them.

Catherine…in the flesh. He flushed crimson and saw her smile turn into a confused frown.

“Hey, Cathy.” He gave her a quick buss on the cheek and stepped back before she could hug him.

“Hey, yourself. Everything all right?”

Just like my brother…doesn’t miss much.

“Haven’t been sleeping well.” He shrugged. “Drop it, OK?”

He immediately felt bad about being so abrupt. It’s not like it’s her fault.

Her eyebrows rose at the unexpected rudeness. “I…I will.” She turned to Vincent, and the warmth in her voice dialed up about a thousand notches. “I’ve missed you.”

His brother did not step away from her before they’d shared a long, close hug, her with her face pressed into his shoulder, he with his cheek resting against the top of her head. They didn’t part until Father cleared his throat – almost as if when they were together, no one else existed in the universe.

This was not going to help his subconscious.

“How goes the work?”

She turned back to him. “It’s a version of The Neverending Story!”

“Need me to come back?” He smiled his most disarming smile, trying to make up for his less than warm welcome.

“We have gotten along without you…at the office, at least.” She smiled, shaking her head at Father’s grimace over being reminded of his son’s peccadilloes.

“Good. Because I’m in another line of work entirely now.” Devin realized his mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“And what might that be?”

Father was still quick on the uptake, had to give him that.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Devin responded vaguely. “By the way, how nice that Olivia’s pregnant again! What’s this, her second?”

“Her third,” Vincent said. “Now that Kanin’s back, they’re making up for lost time, it seems.”

Which just brings me right back to my dream and what Cathy and I were doing…

Again, he blushed furiously, and this time Vincent and Catherine caught each other’s look of surprise.

“Well, the dinner bell has rung,” Father announced, when they all heard the tapping on the pipes. “Shall we?”

Relieved that he’d been spared further conversation with Catherine, Devin uncharacteristically led the way.

* * *

Catherine placed her plate and utensils in the dirty-dishes tub and turned abruptly, inadvertently bumping into Devin, who was daydreaming and not watching what was going on around him as he waited to deposit his own.

“Oh! Sorry.”

His jump backwards was violent, and he nearly collided with Winslow, who was behind him.

“What is going on with you?” Catherine hissed, tugging him out of line and into a corner. “You’re acting like the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof around me. Have I done something to upset you?”

He stood looking down at his feet, unwilling to let her see that he was once again blushing like an idiot.

“Seriously, if I have done anything… I apologize. Please don’t be angry with me?”

Gah…he was making things worse!

He faced her reluctantly. “You haven’t… Look, this is too embarrassing. Not something I could talk about with people around. Or maybe ever. Especially with you. So…let’s drop it, OK? Just know…it’s me, not you.”

Lame. But maybe it will work.

She stared at him speculatively. Finally, she asked, “Does this have something to do with why you’re not sleeping well?”

He nodded.

“Is it OK to ask if you’re…having uncomfortable dreams?”

He allowed himself another nod.

For some reason, Catherine smiled. He narrowed his brows.

“I may have something that might help.” She patted him on the shoulder and returned to Vincent’s side.

* * *

“Catherine sent this down for you.” Vincent handed him a package wrapped in brown paper. The note said, “I’ve found this helpful. Perhaps you will, too.”

Although Vincent had a questioning look on his face, Devin wasn’t going to answer it. “Thanks. She…uhhh…said she had something that might help me sleep.”

* * *

In the quiet of the evening, Devin unwrapped the package. He’d thought it might be some kind of sleep potion, but it was just a book. He read the cover. A book on dream interpretation? Sounded kind of woo-woo, but…at this point, he was willing to consider anything that would help get images of a naked, aroused Catherine out of his head.

He settled into the armchair in his chamber and flipped it open. He found that she had bookmarked a section on falling in love with someone other than your significant other and figured it was as close to what he was experiencing as anything else in the book.

He read and then re-read a couple of passages…

Falling in love in a dream may indicate a desire for new experiences and connections in your waking life, perhaps by expanding your social circle.

Dreaming about a friend might suggest that you value their companionship and support. It may indicate a desire for a deeper emotional connection or simply reflect the strong bond you share.

Such dreams may serve as a reminder to nurture and appreciate the important relationships in your life.

Take these dreams as a suggestion that you should examine your emotional needs – engage in self-reflection and self-care.

He closed the book and considered the advice and insights.

It’s undeniable that I have been alone for much of my life. Those few months caring for Charles were a time of healing for me, and perhaps I’m missing that kind of close connection now that I’ve experienced it as an adult. And boy, is my social circle small – just a few people, really. Yet here I am, surrounded by folks who might become friends if I let them in. What was it Cullen had said just this morning? That I was welcome to sit with him anytime.

As far as strong bonds…well, my relationship with Cathy is an extension of mine with Vincent. They are my two best friends…my only good friends, really. Yet have I let them both in? Maybe Vincent…partway. Cathy? Not really.

Hmmmm…

And so thinking, he closed his eyes. His head drooped as he fell into slumber. The book fell from his fingers and silently hit the carpet beside the armchair.

He slept dreamlessly.

And when he awoke, except for a stiff neck, he felt pretty good!

* * *

“Thanks for the loan.” Devin handed the book back to Catherine, re-wrapped in the brown paper.

“Did it help?”

He nodded. “More than you know.”

Smiling, she said, “Good. It really helped me when I…” She began to blush and said no more.

He eyed her speculatively as she dropped the book into her tote bag and turned away to look for Vincent.

That hmmmm feeling came back. She had marked those particular pages for a reason. He wondered who she had been dreaming about when she needed the book to help her through.

He recalled her blush.

Holy moly!!!!!!!!!!!!!