Page 8 of A Midlife Vanishing Trick

She sighed again. Hopefully, she hadn’t crashed the truck or run someone over. The last thing she needed this morning was a DUI.

Wait ... I didn’t drinkthatmuch last night, did I?

All she remembered was having a cocktail, and she hadn’t even finished it before that man approached her, so she decided to leave.

Her mind drifted back to the dream she’d had: Stanley standing in the middle of the road, and she felt her breathing quicken for a moment. It might have been impossible, but it all felt so real. She bit her lip. Celine would say it was because she still missed him after all this time. She wouldn’t be wrong about that. Or about the fact that Allison did need to get Stanley out of her system.

She told herself she didn't need to worry about dumb dreams. First things first, she should check to make sure the truck was still in perfect shape.

She started to climb out of bed, but just then, the thud of footsteps outside the bedroom made her freeze. Allison frowned.Maybe one of the cowhands had come into the ranch house to discuss something with them? Before she could decide whether it was Aaron or Julian, two of the most trusted workers on the property, the door swung open, and a man walked inside, bearing a tray laden with—

“Coffee,” he said with a grin that nearly stopped her heart. “Black. No sugar. Just how you like it, if I recall.”

For the next few seconds, the bedroom was plunged into deafening silence. Allison thought she could hear her own heart pounding against her ribcage.

She stood blinking at him. “It ... it wasn’t a dream.”

“Hi, honey,” Stanley said, settling the tray down onto the bedside table. “It’s me.”

It was him, all right. The same man she’d almost run over last night with the truck. He looked just as he had last night, long-haired and bushy-bearded. From what she could see, he’d gotten cleaned up and slipped into some of his old clothes. They barely fit him; his muscular frame was visible through the fabric, which threatened to rip under the strain of his body. He’d filled out over the years, she realized.

She had to admit, he was a sexy sight to behold. Looking at him, she suddenly felt as though there wasn’t enough oxygen in the bedroom for both of them.

And he was staring back at her. God, she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be looked at by him. Those deep blue eyes of his were riveted on her. They’d changed too, she realized. She’d always thought he had a sexy gaze, but now his eyes were also filled with something else.

Pain?

In the past four years, only those eyes seemed to have aged much. She found herself wondering just what he’d seen in all that time. Where had he been? She had so many questionsswirling about her mind, yet all she could do was stare dumbly across the bed at him.

It was Stanley who broke the silence again.

“Allison,” he said, slowly making his way around the bed to meet her. “It’s me. Stanley. I’m back.”

As he approached, she caught sight of the gold chain around his neck. He still had his locket.

“Stanley ...” she breathed.

He drew closer, cautiously, with the air of a man approaching a wild beast or a wounded horse. “I still can’t believe it’s you. After all these years ...”

It was almost as if he was reading her thoughts, speaking them to her as they appeared in her mind. After all this time, he was suddenly back. In her bedroom. Only mere feet away from her. Her lips parted, but before she could utter another word, he crossed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his.

His lips tasted like cinnamon. His thick beard was coarse against her chin, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

Stanley is kissing me.

That was what mattered. When he pulled her closer, one large hand cupping her cheek, the other wrapped around her middle, she imagined she might dissolve on the spot.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this: Stanley touching her, holding her, Stanley kissing her. His body was hard against hers, the mere contact already sending the right signals into her body. She could feel her temperature rising rapidly. Her own hands rose to touch him, sliding around his torso to his back and feeling the contours of his muscles ...

He was back. Her husband was back after so long.

After so long.

Suddenly, she broke the kiss and pulled away. Stanley blinked and tried to come closer again, but she held out a hand to stop him.

“No,” she said firmly, feeling anger growing in her belly. “Not another step toward me.”

“Honey, what’s—?”

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