Read Online Deeper Than Dreams by Jessica Topper - Free Book Online

gone.”
    World tour?
    My feel-good fullness was robbed and replaced by a barren emptiness.
    â€œWe’d better get going, too.” Kev hoisted his bag of catering supplies in one hand, and took Liz’s with the other. She had her bag of hairdressing tools on her shoulder as well. “Leftovers are in the fridge.”
    â€œHave fun, you crazy kids.” Liz blew us a kiss, and as Adrian closed the door behind them, I knew we were once and for all, finally and truly alone. And it was high time we had a serious talk.
    ***
    â€œMindy wasn’t serious about a world tour, was she?” I blurted.
    â€œOf course not. You know I have no plants.” He gave a cheeky grin as he checked his watch. “Cripes, we’ll be late for the ball.”
    â€œAdrian . . . I’m serious.”
    â€œI am, too.” His steady gaze into my eyes suggested we’d have all the time in the world to discuss the matter . . . some other time. “I’d better get ready. Give me ten minutes, luv.”
    â€œTen minutes? Jeez!” And here it had taken all day for me to get presentable. “You’ve got it easy.”
    Adrian laughed. “Okay, maybe fifteen, tops. It is a big occasion, after all.”
    â€œAnd after all this fuss,” I said, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye, “are you going to want to hang around the ordinary, everyday Kat?”
    â€œI’m having trouble hanging around you now, and minding my manners.” He kissed me in every acceptable and available place that hadn’t been primped and pampered. “You are a vision, now . . . and always. There is nothing ordinary about you, Kat Lewis.” I shivered as a kiss landed behind my ear, and then dragged to the nape of my neck. My fingers fell upon his collar, which was still damp from baby Liam’s affections, and I felt tears prick behind my eyes.
    Let’s not think about tomorrow
, I heard his voice tell Abbey earlier.
    Adrian was stalling both of us.
    He bolted up the stairs, two at a time. Sighing, I gathered the essentials I’d need for the evening. Mindy’s clutch was indeed perfect for a night out with my British hard rocker: a small black leather hard-shell, with tiny grommets detailing a pattern of the Union Jack. But its best feature was the combination clasp and handle, which looked like a set of brass knuckles, perched right on top. They were adorned with large, blingy diamond-like stones, and skulls with glittering rhinestones for eyes. As I slipped my phone and wallet in, I noticed Mindy had left a little gift of emergency lipstick in there for me.
    Upstairs, I made one quick sweep of the bedroom to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Ah, tissues. With my luck, I’d probably get choked up with tears at some point in the evening to come, and would need a few.
    â€œLuck” reminded me of Abbey and her shell. I plucked it from her pillow and studied it. The thought of Rick plying my daughter with such a present got under my skin and irritated me. Was it—and were the gala tickets—just some consolation prize, mementos to remember his bandmate by when he whisked him off on some twenty-date tour? I nestled it into the tissue before popping it in my purse. I planned to confront Rick about it.
    And besides, I could use all the luck I could find.
    Chelsea sat at the bottom of the spiral stairs she had not yet learned to climb, mewing hunger. I scooped her up and got her settled in her cage in the library, complete with fresh, dry food and her litter box. She kneaded happily at her little bed with tiny paws as she made herself at home.
    I guess I should be doing the same
, I thought, glancing around. I hadn’t been in the room of floor-to-ceiling bookcases in a while. Impulsively, or perhaps compulsively, I searched the shelf for the last reading material I had perused, and there it was. On the same shelf, as if it