Falling into Forever (Wintersage Weddings Book 1)

by Phyllis Bourne

  “That’s not going to happen,” she called out to his retreating back.

  She could hear his laughter over the sounds of the nearby ocean waves as she shut the door.

  “You believe in your auntie, don’t you, baby?” Sandra shifted her nephew on her hip.

  Mason bobbed his head as if he actually understood.

  She looked at the both of them dressed in their costumes, and an idea popped into her head. “How would you like Auntie to take you to your first Halloween party?”

  Mason chortled. Again, he bobbed his head as if he’d understood her. “Bye!”

  She pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Let’s go party!”

  Chapter 6

  The sound of children laughing, the smell of popcorn and the occasional bleating of a goat filled the tent Isaiah had set up behind the recreation center. For one night only, it was the official home of Wintersage’s Halloween carnival fun house.

  Isaiah had been so busy pulling the whole thing together that the party was in full swing before he had a moment to check out the results of his efforts. He stood in the middle of the large area between the food concessions and the mini petting zoo, and panned the inside of the tent.

  Pint-size princesses, superheroes and everything in between lined up to play the games he’d breathed new life into with fresh paint and updated designs. The kids’ excited expressions, combined with the feeling of having created something, filled him with a deep satisfaction military life never had.

  An elbow jabbed his side. Tony, dressed up in a ringmaster’s costume, handed him a paper cup filled with fruit punch.

  “I can hardly believe these games are the same heap of trash I saw a few days ago,” he said. “Just so you know, my oldest gave the clown dartboard a thumbs-up, and that’s a high compliment with the eight-year-old crowd.”

  Isaiah raised his paper cup to his friend and drank the punch in one gulp. He glanced at the ancient dartboard he’d revamped with a lazy Susan, paint and foam board. “Glad they’re enjoying it.”

  “Man, the kids are all having a blast. You should have seen this party last year and the year before. The children were high on sugar and bored out of their minds.” Tony slapped him on the back. “You did good.”

  Isaiah looked over his old teammate’s shoulder. “So which of these kids are your three monsters?”

  Laughing, Tony started to scan the tent in search of his offspring.

  “Damn!”

  “What’s wrong?” Isaiah looked around the game area, relieved there didn’t appear to be any accidents.

  “Um... If I show you something, do you promise not to go running into a post and cracking your head open again?”

  “Huh?” Isaiah frowned. He had no idea where his friend was going with this one.

  Tony nodded toward the concessions. Isaiah turned and saw a vision straight out of his dreams the night before.

  Sandra Woolcott all dressed up like a cheerleader.

  It couldn’t be. Isaiah blinked. Hard. To make sure it wasn’t his imagination.

  While his brain worked to separate last night’s fantasy from tonight’s reality, his greedy gaze moved on its own accord. It ate up the sight of her standing in line at the cotton candy machine.

  But not even spun sugar could compete with his sweet view of legs that would make a Rockette weep with envy.

  Isaiah started at her ankles and inched upward, slowly caressing the smooth dark skin of her shapely calves with his eyes. He lingered there a moment to catch his breath and send a silent shout out to the costume’s short skirt for providing a delectable real-life view of toned thighs he’d imagined spread open to him the night before.

  Tony hadn’t exaggerated his description of the all-grown-up Sandra, Isaiah thought. Knockout curves in all the right places.

  Then his gaze lit upon the one thing, or rather person, his old teammate hadn’t thought to mention.

  A baby.

  Nor had Isaiah asked.

  He looked at the toddler in her arms pointing at the cotton candy machine, and watched as she kissed the top of the kid’s head.

  Deep down, Isaiah hadn’t wanted to know whether she was married, with a family of her own. Especially after he’d seen her the other night at The Quarterdeck, looking so unbelievably beautiful.

  He felt an elbow at his side.

  “You okay?” Tony asked.

  Isaiah nodded, still staring at Sandra and the little boy. He speculated that she probably had more kids than this one. And with them came a man, who had been smart enough to make her his wife.

  The rigid posture drummed into Isaiah at Annapolis slumped a notch, along with his mood. The sight before him made it official. Sandra Woolcott would belong to him only in the past or in his dreams.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” he told his friend.

  “Are you sure? Because you look like you did the day you ran headfirst into that goalpost.”

  Isaiah felt as if he’d taken a hit, but shook it off, along with proprietary feelings over a girl that up until now he’d only ever thought of as his. Exhaling, he squared his shoulders. “I’m headed over to say hello.”

  Tony muttered something about finding his wife and kids, but his voice faded into the background as Isaiah made his way to the concession area. A few people stopped him along the way to either welcome him home or rave about how their children were enjoying this year’s party. He responded on cue with automatic polite responses, but his gaze remained trained on the cheerleader buying cotton candy for the delighted little football player in her arms.

  “You can’t stuff the whole thing in your mouth,” Sandra said as the toddler reached for the pink ball of fluff with both hands. She appeared to have her own hands full balancing the boy, an oversize blue bag and the cone of spun sugar. “Give me a moment, baby, and I’ll break you off a piece.”

  Her back was to him, but Isaiah could hear the amusement in her tone as she pulled the cotton candy out of the kid’s reach with her free arm.

  “Mine!” The boy shouted and pointed at it. When he didn’t get immediate satisfaction, he suddenly lunged for it. The quick move threw Sandra off balance and she stumbled backward.

  Instinctively, Isaiah stepped forward, catching mother, son and candy floss in one swoop.

  “I got you,” he said, trying not to think about how good she felt in his arms. He felt her steady herself, and slowly released his hold.

  Only his fingertips remained on her arms.

  “Thank you,” she said, finally turning around. “That was a close call...”

  “No problem,” Isaiah said.

  Sandra stared up at him, openmouthed. With her hair in a ponytail and the wide-eyed gaze, she looked like the teenage girl he’d once loved with everything in him.

  “Isaiah,” she whispered.

  A beginning of a smile graced her full lips. It zapped Isaiah back ten years, and for an instant, she was still the girl who waited for him after football games. The girl he’d taken for a ride in his truck the day he’d received his driver’s license. The girl he’d taught to sketch in art class.

  His very best friend.

  As Sandra recovered from the surprise of seeing him, he watched her expression transform. Guileless turned guarded, erecting an invisible shield between them that had never before existed.

  “How long have you been back?” Her tone was detached.

  It was just as well, Isaiah decided. The familiarity of the woman was just an illusion. A decade had come and gone. She was somebody’s mother now, and more than likely someone’s wife.

  “A week.” His own words came out stiff and awkward.

  In his head, they were having an entirely different conversation. One where he eschewed pride and propriety and simply spoke his truth.

&nb
sp; I’ve missed you.

  Sandra broke off a piece of cotton candy for the baby, who grabbed her hand and shoved the pink fluff into his open mouth. “Are you on leave visiting your folks?”

  “Visiting, but not on leave. I’ve completed my military stint.”

  Even as he spoke, his internal monologue continued.

  I saw you at The Quarterdeck Monday evening and have dreamed of you every night since.

  “So you’re not planning to settle in Wintersage?”

  He shook his head.

  Even if I had been, there’s no way I could now. Seeing you with your husband and children would be too difficult.

  “Well, you look great,” she said.

  Her tongue slid over her pouty bottom lip in a gesture he knew was unconscious, which somehow made it sexier.

  “So do you.”

  I’ve seen women from all over the world. Not one as stunning as you.

  The baby made a squawking noise and pointed at the cotton candy torch. Sandra smiled at the boy, a genuine grin that made Isaiah envious of a toddler.

  It was hell getting over you ten years ago.

  She broke off another piece and fed it to her son.

  “Good?” she asked.

  The kid nodded. He gobbled up the treat quickly and then pointed a sticky finger at Isaiah.

  “How rude of me. I forgot to introduce you,” Sandra crooned to the boy as she readjusted him on her hip. “Mason, this is Isaiah, and Isaiah, meet my nephew, Mason.”

  “Nephew?” Isaiah asked.

  She nodded. “He’s Jordan’s little boy.”

  His gaze dropped to her left hand. No ring.

  Yes!

  He couldn’t explain it. Nor did it make a lick of sense. But the revelation made him feel like a doomed man who’d just received a last-minute reprieve from the guillotine.

  “You thought he was mine.” The words were more of a statement than a question. Her gaze trailed his to her ringless finger, and then rose to his face.

  There was a time when Sandra could tell with one look exactly what was on his mind. As they stood there staring at each other, Isaiah wondered if she still could. He wondered if she knew just how badly he wanted her right now.

  Her brown eyes widened as realization dawned. An almost smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and for an instant it was if they’d never spent more than a day apart.

  “You’re not serious,” she said.

  As she shook her head, he nodded his.

  This time he said what he meant, no longer having to hold back because he thought she was another man’s wife.

  “Oh, I’m very serious.”

  A spark filled with wicked promise flashed in her eyes, but vanished so quickly he thought he was mistaken. She continued to stare at him as she broke off another piece of cotton candy and gave it to her nephew.

  “Tell Mr. Jacobs goodbye, so we can go see the bunnies.”

  “Bye!” The kid shouted over a mouthful of pink fluff.

  Isaiah watched his favorite cheerleader walk across the tent to the petting zoo. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. As he stood mesmerized by the generous curve of her ass swaying beneath the short skirt, he wondered how he could have ever thought he was over her?

  * * *

  Sandra didn’t have to turn around to know Isaiah was staring at her.

  She felt it.

  Hotter than the warmth radiating off his body when he’d caught her in his arms, the searing heat of his dark-eyed gaze blazed a trail up her bare legs. Her skin tingled in the wake of his eyes skimming the backs of her calves and thighs. She felt them, as if they were his hands lingering on her backside as she continued to walk away.

  So much had changed over the years, Sandra thought, but two things remained the same.

  For one, she could still tell with a look what Isaiah was thinking. Secondly, time hadn’t extinguished the chemistry between them, ignited the day they’d met in art class. It had merely put it on a slow simmer.

  And tonight it had nearly boiled over.

  Thank goodness she had Mason in tow. Her babysitting duties had been the only thing stopping her from doing something impetuous like inviting Isaiah Jacobs back to her place and her bed.

  To finally have what they’d denied themselves as teenagers. Although they’d come close.

  “Dog!” Mason’s delighted squeal corralled her wayward thoughts. He pointed to a baby goat as they approached the area with the animals. “Dog!”

  Sandra snapped back into auntie mode. “That’s not a dog. It’s a goat. Can you say goat?”

  “Dog! Dog! Dog!”

  She laughed and tossed the paper cone from the cotton candy into a trash can, then set the toddler on his feet. He raised his arms over his head and made a beeline to the edge of the small pen, pressing his belly against the fence.

  “Dog!” He reached his chubby hands out toward the baby goats.

  A middle-aged woman wearing jeans and a T-shirt bearing the name of a farm came over to them. She crouched down on her haunches. “Hello, there.” She addressed Mason first and then looked up at Sandra. “He’s welcome to come inside the pen.”

  Sandra thought about how rough her nephew could be, and feared one of the animals taking a nip out of him if he inadvertently pulled or tugged at them too hard.

  The woman must have detected her hesitance. “They’re all extremely gentle and love the contact nearly as much as the youngsters do.”

  Sandra saw other children milling around the enclosure, some as young as Mason, playing with the menagerie of ducks, bunnies, sheep, chickens and goats. Finally, she lifted him over the short fence into the makeshift pen and stepped in behind him.

  Mason quickly made friends with a small black-and-white goat, which had no problems being addressed as a dog. As Sandra laughed at her nephew’s antics, she couldn’t help regretting that her brother was missing these funny moments.

  Maybe Jordan didn’t have to miss out, she thought.

  Reaching into her bag, Sandra pulled out her cell phone. She switched on its video camera and began recording her nephew as he hugged a brown goat and then rested his head on its back.

  “Wave at the camera, Mason,” she coaxed.

  “Bye!” He grinned, moving his little hand through the air.

  The woman with the farm T-shirt returned, a loaf of bread in her hand and a smiling toddler clinging to each leg of her jeans. “We’re headed over to feed the ducks.” She inclined her head toward the fowl on the other side of the small pen. “Would your little one like to help?”

  Sandra nodded her permission. Mason took the worker’s extended hand, and they walked a few feet away to the ducks, a brown baby goat trailing behind them.

  Sandra snapped a few shots of her nephew with the animals. As she texted them to her brother, she felt a warm tingle at the back of her neck.

  Her hand went to the skin there, where gooseflesh had started to form. Sandra spun around to see what, deep down, she already knew.

  Isaiah.

  Their gazes connected across the tent, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. He was indeed watching her.

  And he looked damn hot doing it.

  The mayor sidled up to him, and Isaiah turned to talk to him, breaking the connection.

  Still, Sandra ogled him openly. The boy she’d known had been tall and lanky, all knees and elbows. The man she was practically leering at now was an altogether different story.

  Wide shoulders and a broad chest tested the limits of a black polo shirt, whose short sleeves revealed muscular biceps. She’d felt their strength when his arms had wrapped around her after she’d stumbled, and she couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to be wrapped in them all night.

 
Her gaze slipped lower, to his jeans. Sandra wondered whether he could feel the heat of her stare on that nice ass of his, just as she’d felt his earlier.

  Isaiah turned away from the mayor and gazed directly at her. She averted her eyes, but not before she saw the look of raw desire in his.

  Down, girl! Sandra issued herself a silent warning.

  She’d seen the man, what? Just twenty minutes ago? And already she was acting as if he had a roll of cookie dough shoved down the front of his jeans.

  Shaking her head at her own ridiculousness, she looked down at her nephew, who was happily babbling at the ducks. Isaiah was in her past, and that’s exactly where any connection she had with him, real or imagined, belonged.

  She looked over her shoulder for what she told herself was one last peek at him.

  What would it hurt to have him just one time? her inner bad girl thought, rising up. One no-strings, sexy time.

  He was grown. She was grown. Why not? Sandra started to buy into the idea. It wasn’t as if he was even staying in Wintersage.

  Then her common sense showed up. The killjoy immediately shut down the notion of steamy sex with Isaiah Jacobs.

  Get your nephew, it warned. And take your hot tail home.

  Chapter 7

  What in the hell are you doing?

  Isaiah braced his hands against either side of the doorjamb and lowered his head until it touched Sandra’s front door.

  He’d spent hours trying to talk himself out of coming here, staying at the rec center long after the party had ended. He’d even tried wearing himself out by helping dismantle the tent and restoring the area behind the building to a parking lot.

  It hadn’t worked.

  “Go home,” he whispered. She’d never have to know he had come here.

  But his body refused the direct order. It stood steadfast, not caring that he had no reasonable explanation for being there, or the very real possibility of Sandra slamming the door in his face.

  All Isaiah knew was he had to see her again.

  Now.

  Exhaling, he slid one hand down to the doorbell and pressed. The chime preceded one of the longest minutes of his life.