"It's not quite that simple."

"Either way, we would love for you to come for a visit soon."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why. It wasn't as if they made a whole lot of time for her while she was there. And then she decided finally to speak up and get some answers. "Aaron tells me you had a dinner party while he was there and introduced him to your friends."

"Oh, oui! It was wonderful. We ate and drank and everyone had a good time."

"I find that interesting."

"Why?"

"Because you have never introduced me to any of your friends or had a dinner party while I was visiting. The last I checked, I had impeccable table manners and knew how to carry on an intelligent conversation and yet...you keep me hidden away like a redheaded stepchild." Her heart beat madly in her chest as she waited for her mother's response.

"Vivienne, must you be so dramatic?" Her mother sighed.

"Ah...so I'm the problem. It figures," she murmured.

"I taught you better manners than this. You mumble and talk under your breath to your own mother?"

"It doesn't seem to matter how I speak to you, Mama. You hear only what you want to hear," Vivienne said with a sigh, sinking in her chair. Her head was starting to ache and she wished for bad phone reception.

"What is that supposed to mean? I hear you just fine."

"Do you? Because I'm sitting here trying to tell you it hurts my feelings that you don't introduce me to your friends or make any effort with me when I come to visit, and all you can say is that I sound dramatic. How about answering the question? How about explaining to me why it is that you and Papa go out of your way to entertain Aaron but not me?"

And dammit, she wasn't going to cry!

"I...I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't." Vivienne sighed wearily. "You know what? Just...let's forget about it." She reached across her desk for her calendar. "I can probably make time for a trip over after next month. I'll work on my schedule to make sure everything is covered at the magazine. How does that sound?"

"It sounds to me like you are doing it to appease me and not because you want to."

Bingo!

"It's just... It's fine. Sorry. Like I said, I just got home and-"

"Vivienne," her mother interrupted. "Maybe...maybe I could come to North Carolina and see you? Just me-your father finds traveling too exhausting lately."

"Um..."

"I hear you did a beautiful job on the guesthouse, and I'd very much like to see it."

Oh, good grief.

"You don't have to do that. I can bring pictures with me when I come to visit. I know you're not a fan of coming back to the States. 'It lacks the culture of Paris,' I believe you said on your last trip here."

She heard her mother sigh.

"Vivienne, I am trying here. I don't know what it is I'm supposed to do."

"And I don't know what it is I'm supposed to do with you either," she replied. "I come to visit you, and we don't do anything. You come here, and you spend all of your time doting on Aaron and giving my life a cursory glance." And now, dammit, she was crying. "Why am I not important enough? Why is it so easy for you to shower him with attention and not me?"

"Oh...oh...ma belle, don't cry. Please. I know I'm not the type of mother you have always wanted, but I don't know how to be! I was raised in private schools and boarding schools and by nannies and caretakers. When I married your father and you and your brother were born, I didn't know what to do, but I did the best I could. Sometimes I make mistakes, but if you don't talk to me, how am I to know?"

"I would think it would have been obvious," Vivienne said, wiping away her tears. "Why was it easier with Aaron?"

"Oh, my sweet girl, you and your brother are very different. Aaron goes with the flow. He doesn't make waves-at least he didn't when he was younger," she commented with a small laugh. "But you? You were always emotional, and rather than have temper tantrums, you would simply withdraw and show your disapproval with your carefully chosen words and it was written all over your face. I didn't know what to do with you. And after a while, I realized nothing I did was working and I simply accepted that I was a failure."

"Oh...Mama..."

"I don't blame you. I should have pushed more when I saw that you were unhappy about something. That is on me. I took the easy way out."

"I could have said something rather than pouting."

"No. As your mother, it was my place to pay closer attention. I made sure all of your physical needs were met, but not your emotional ones. I'd...I'd like to try. Maybe we could have one of those...girls' weekends, yes? Is that what they're called? Where we go to the spa or someplace and get pampered and drink wine and relax? Would you like that?"

Vivienne couldn't help but chuckle as she tried to imagine her and her mother sitting in spa robes with their hair up in towels while they drank wine and got pedicures. It was difficult, but it seemed like a fun way to start.

"I'd like that. A lot," she finally said.

"Really?"

"Yes." And she genuinely meant it.

"Oh, this is wonderful! I want you to find a spa for us and pick a date that works for your schedule, and I will fly over and come and see your beautiful home first, and then we will go away for our weekend and leave your brother behind!" She giggled like a schoolgirl then, and it was the first time Vivienne had ever heard such a thing in her entire life.

"I promise to make it happen soon."

"I'm looking forward to it," her mother said. "Oh, and Vivienne?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being brave enough finally to talk to me."

They hung up a few minutes later and Vivienne felt a lightness she hadn't felt in years if ever. And she couldn't wait to wake Matt up and tell him.

These were the kind of dreams that made sleeping more than worth it. He was beyond thankful for it considering his usual options.

Vivienne's hands were roaming all over him-up his legs, under his shirt, and then back to unbutton his jeans.

Yes.

The slow drag of the zipper whispered to him, but it was the sound of her lips kissing his stomach that was the more prominent. So soft. So wet. And moving lower.

Hell yes.

Matt shifted as she tugged his jeans down over his hips, down his legs. Cool air hit his skin and then was instantly replaced by warm, smooth skin. Vivienne's. Her nails raked over him, and she dragged his T-shirt up and over his head, and then he reached up and fisted that gloriously long hair in his hand.

So. Damn. Good.

Carefully, he guided her back down his body-after all, he was just a man and this was his damn dream. Her breath teased and tickled as she moved against him. Her teeth nipped at his abs and then the waistband of his boxers, and he was so hard and so turned on he thought he would explode.

Only Vivienne. She was the only woman who had the ability to do this to him. When his boxers slid off and there was nothing but warm, naked woman in his arms, he dared to open his eyes.

"I was wondering if you were going to wake up," she said softly, straddling his lap.

Not a dream.

But definitely a fantasy.

In the blink of an eye, he was sitting up, his hand braced on her lower back to keep her intimately pressed against him. She let out a small gasp that he quickly swallowed when he claimed her lips with his.

She writhed against him as his hands moved from her back to her hips and up to her breasts. Vivienne pulled her lips from his as her head rolled back and she sighed his name.

"Baby," he growled, filling his hands with her magnificent breasts. "Feel free to wake me up like this anytime." Then he was done talking. He needed to focus on touching her. Tasting her. Claiming her.

"Yes," she purred, and it was such a damn erotic sound that he knew he would never tire of hearing her say it. "Should we take this upstairs?"

Rather than answer her, he simply continued with what he was doing until she couldn't form a single coherent word. He was almost ruthless in his quest to please her, and by the time he was done, he hoped the moment was imprinted on her mind as much as it was imprinted on his heart.

Closing the trunk, Matt looked over at Vivienne as she was locking up the house. "Is that everything?"

"I think so," she replied, smiling at him. "We're only going to be gone for three days. If we forgot anything, I'm pretty sure they have stores in Myrtle Beach."

He chuckled. "Very funny." Then he saw her look over toward Aaron's. He hadn't shared with her the conversation he'd had with him four days ago. After having her wake him up in such an erotic way, he didn't want to ruin the mood. And then she'd shared with him the breakthrough she'd had with her mom, so he figured he'd keep his argument with Aaron to himself. "Do you want to tell him we're going out of town?"

As was her habit when she was nervous, she chewed on her bottom lip. "Do you think I should?"

Hell, he wanted to say no, but that was just him being childish. So instead he replied, "Sure."

Vivienne studied his face as if she knew he was lying. Then she looked back at Aaron's house before walking over and opening the car door. "I'll text him. I want to get on the road."

Matt certainly wasn't going to argue with her. He climbed in and started the car, happy she was willing to let him drive. Guilt niggled at him a bit, but when he looked over and saw her texting, he let himself relax. They were going to get over this bump in the relationship with Aaron. He just wished it was sooner rather than later.

As they drove, Matt wondered how it was that Vivienne was still single. It wasn't the first time his mind had drifted in that direction. Lord knew he was thankful for the fact, but everything she did just made things better.

Take this road trip-it wasn't as if Matt was completely opposed to road trips; it was just that anytime he'd done one, he found it boring. In the early years with Shaughnessy, they either drove themselves to gigs or had a tour bus. It wasn't until they got a record contract that they were flying to shows. But those early days on the bus were boring as hell. And now, sitting beside him was a woman who not only put together a fairly amazing playlist for them to listen to, but she was chatting on about license plate games and playing I Spy.

One in a million, that's what she was.

They laughed, he spotted far more license plates from other states than he thought he would, and by the time they pulled up to the private beachside home Riley had rented, Matt was surprised at how the time had flown.

He climbed out of the car and stretched, commenting on it.

"We did a lot of road trips when I was little," Vivienne explained. "My parents listened to a lot of talk radio, so Aaron and I had to come up with ways to entertain ourselves. There is nothing worse than a quiet road trip. You can easily go insane."

That made him laugh. "I don't think kids today would have the same problem. With all of the portable devices, iPads and tablets and even TVs that are built into the cars, this generation will never know the struggles of lack of entertainment."

"Hey, you made good time!" They looked up and saw Savannah standing at the front door, waving. "We just got in a little while ago ourselves. Do you need help with the bags?"

Matt shook his head. "We got them."

A few minutes later, they had their luggage stored in the second-story master bedroom. There was another one on the main floor that Riley and Savannah were using, and both had an incredible view of the ocean.

"A girl could get used to this view," Vivienne said as she stepped out onto their deck. Coming up behind her, Matt wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her neck. "And this too," she purred.

"That's what I'm hoping for," he said softly, breathing in her sweet scent as he held her close.

Turning in his arms, she smiled up at him. "You are, huh?"

"Absolutely."

She chuckled. "I'm kind of a bed hog."

"I can deal with that."

Vivienne tilted her head and considered him. "I make lists for everything."

"That's good because I tend to forget stuff."

"I can be bossy."

That one made him laugh. "I'm used to being bossed around by my management team. I barely notice."

"Hmm...I've told you all my bad stuff. What about you?"

"You thinking of keeping me?" he teased, but inside, his heart was beating wildly.

She nodded.

"I tend to be sloppy."

"It's a good thing I enjoy cleaning," she said.

"Sometimes when I'm working on a song, I'll sit and play the guitar for hours."

"I love music."

He sighed dramatically. "Well...this last one is pretty big. I don't know if you'll be able to handle it. It could be a deal breaker."