Breathing in the fresh cut grass and warm summer air, I stepped through the french doors into the backyard. I was balancing a glass of lemonade on an antique silver serving tray while teetering on four inch espadrilles in the grass. Never let it be said that Caroline Forbes lacked talent. I placed the tray onto the patio table and fluffed my bouncy blonde curls. I rubbed my ruby red lips together and smoothed my white linen sheath dress.
Truth be told, I was probably taking this "Southern Lady of the House" thing a little too far. But it was fun to play the part and Stefan didn't seem to mind. I sauntered up behind him and tapped him on the bare shoulder. He turned off the mower and turned to face me.
I gave him my best smile and held out the sweating glass of lemonade toward him. He smiled in appreciation and brushed my fingers as he took it from me.
"You look hot," I observed, taking a handkerchief from the over-sized pockets of my dress and dabbing at his forehead with it.
"I could say the same about you," he returned, letting his eyes rake over my body from golden hair to red shiny toes.
I blushed and smile, "I don't know...I could stand to be heated up a little..." I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. He tasted salty and sweet.
His arms snatched me up against his strong body before I could stop them.
"No! You'll get my dress all sweaty!" I exclaimed, giggling.
"Hmmm" he considered, "There's only one solution then..." he leaned forward until his words whispered warm against my ear, "You'll have to take it off."
I smiled and kissed him hard. He reached around to unzip my dress and began lavishing kisses all over my bare shoulders as it fell.
"Stefan," I breathed, in absolute heaven, exposing my neck and letting my curls cascade down my back.
"Caroline," he whispered into my ear, taking my earlobe gently between his lips.
"Caroline!" he said louder. I was confused.
"Caroline!" he all but yelled. I was very confused.
My eyes fluttered open to be met by the bright afternoon sun and Stefan Salvatore's bright green eyes. Oh. A dream. Just perfect.
"Is everything okay?" he said, looking down at me from where I was stretched out in the hammock in our backyard, "I thought I heard you calling for me but I couldn't hear that well over the sound of the mower."
God. Was I talking in my sleep? Or moaning in my sleep, as it were. My cheeks went hot as I realized I'd been having a sex dream about my best friend.
"Are you okay? You're all red." he pressed the backs of his cool fingertips against my hot cheeks with a light brush.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," I said groggily, sitting up in the hammock and swinging my legs over the side, "I guess I just dozed off and got too hot," I lied.
He smiled and nodded. I thought about my frizzy sleep hair, bare and blushing face and the old Mystic Grill t-shirt and denim shorts I had been wearing to weed the flower garden. It was a far cry from dream Caroline. But Stefan looked the same. The white undershirt and black track pants that he always wore to work on the lawn. After I finished my own chores, I often sipped iced tea and watched him work. His muscles wet with sweat and glistening in the sun.
Everyday I was thankful for the little slice of heaven that we'd made for ourselves just off the Georgia coast. The domestic life was exactly what we needed right now. I was happy, and I was pretty sure that he was happy too. It made me feel good to know that even though either of us could be anywhere, doing anything with anyone...we choose to be together and to be doing something as mundane as just maintaining a household. It spoke volumes about how easy and comfortable our friendship was. Sometimes I felt guilty for secretly wanting more from him. Other times I wondered how I could possibly be expected to not want more from him.
"I'm almost done here," he said, and extended a hand to help me up out of the hammock, "Just let me finish up and take a quick shower and we'll go get some dinner if you want. What are you in the mood for?"
I took his hand and let him help me out. Hmmm, tricky question there, Mr. Salvatore. I smiled to myself.
"Why don't we get a pizza and catch one of those outdoor movies in town?" I said, instead of what I was actually thinking. I lowered my head and smiled, slipping my feet into my flip flops.
"Sounds great," he said, releasing my hand and walking back to his lawn mower, turning it on and disappearing around the side of the yard.
I sighed deeply and shook my head, smiling and walked toward the house to get ready for dinner.
Surely I had a white dress in the back of my closet somewhere...