by Ruth Langan
“So do you.” He leaned closer and inhaled the fragrance of spring flowers that always seemed to surround her.
She took a step back. He was simply too potent. Too…male. “Would you like some wine?”
“Yeah. And I’ll turn these one more time until they’re done.”
He watched as she walked to the blanket and knelt beside the ice bucket, filling two glasses. Every movement was sheer poetry. There was just something about a woman in all those clothes that made him itch to get her out of them.
When she walked back and handed him a glass, he kept his eyes steady on hers while he lifted it to his lips and tasted. His smile was quick and dangerous. “Now that’s just what I needed. Thanks.” He nodded toward the blanket in the grass. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed that from the foot of my bed.”
She laughed. “I don’t think you’ll be needing it anytime soon. Unless we get a cold snap.”
“Yeah. That’s what I figured. I’ll make sure I shake the grass out of it before I take it back indoors.”
“I should hope so. Or some poor unsuspecting guest months from now might unfold it in the middle of the night and wake up with bits of grass stuck to his skin.”
“We wouldn’t want to give Stafford Cottage a bad reputation.” He was still staring at her in that direct manner.
She could feel her cheeks growing warm. But she couldn’t seem to look away. “Not when I’ve worked so hard to make it perfect.”
“Like you.” He saw the way her face flamed. He touched a hand to her arm. “Sorry. I just meant that you seem almost too good to be true.”
“No one is that good.”
“You are.” He kept his hand on her arm, even though he knew it made her uncomfortable. “Do you work at it? Or does it just come naturally?”
“You don’t know me, Colin. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know that you’re unerringly kind and generous with your neighbors. You’re thoughtful. You look out for an elderly woman without ever letting her know what you’re doing. You conveniently lose a receipt rather than let her see what you spent out of your own pocket. And then you give yourself away when you try to lie, because you’re so bad at it.”
“But I…”
He touched a finger to her mouth to stop her protest. “You’re so tender-hearted you can’t even bear to break off a flower stem without apologizing. And on top of all that, you’re so easy to look at, I sometimes find myself staring at you just for the pure pleasure of it.”
“Well…” Because she had no idea how to react to all this flattery, she simply sipped her wine. “I guess I won’t disillusion you by telling you about all my flaws.”
She shifted her gaze to the grill. “Do you think our dinner is ready yet?”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t help smiling at her discomfort. It was just so appealing.
He handed her his glass. “Why don’t you top off our drinks, and I’ll get this food on a plate.”
She turned away, grateful for something to do.
Minutes later he sat beside her on the blanket and began to serve her plate. There were skewers of meat and vegetables, as well as a foil packet of seasoned rice that sent up a fragrant cloud when he cut it open.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
His deep blue gaze met hers. Held. “Yeah. Me, too.”
And, he thought, if he didn’t soon feed the hunger that simmered inside, there was no telling what he might do. Hunger, especially the kind that tormented him, could drive a man to the edge. And beyond.
She tasted, then turned to him with a look of surprise. “This is really wonderful. I hope you’ll let me on the secret of your marinade.”
“Hmm. Careful.” He regarded her over his wine. “It might cost you.”
She laughed. “Is nothing free with you?”
“Not free exactly. But I could make the payments extremely painless.”
“Another kiss, I suppose.”
He arched one villainous brow. “That’s a given. But there’d be more.”
“Like what?” She nibbled her dinner, and found that she was beginning to enjoy his teasing banter. He had such a delightful sense of humor it was impossible not to get caught up in his silliness.
“Well, there’s your legs, for instance.”
“My legs?” She lowered her fork.
“Yeah. Are you sure you have some?”
“Now what is that supposed to mean?”
He wiggled his brows. “All I ever get to see is skirt and more skirt. You wear yours so long, I’m not sure there are any legs under there. Don’t you own a pair of shorts?”
“Well.” She picked up her wine, getting into the spirit. “I’ve been told, by men who’ve seen them, of course, that I have fabulous legs. Actually they’re movie-star-quality legs. But that’s why I feel compelled to keep them covered. Men have been known to kill for a glimpse of legs like mine. I simply couldn’t have such a thing on my conscience.”
He threw back his head and roared, before touching a hand to his head and giving a mock groan of pain. “No more. I can’t stand to hear any more. Especially when I’m not allowed to see these fabulous movie-star legs.”
“Life is hard.” She sipped her wine. “We all have our little burdens.”
“Yeah. Well, here’s another one. If I ever give you my recipe, the price will be a glimpse of those movie-star legs.”
He was still laughing as he finished his dinner. She constantly surprised him. And delighted him.
Still…he’d give a lot to see those carefully hidden legs of hers.
“Colin, that was really good.” Lizbeth helped him clear away the dishes and set them on a tray before glancing around. “But didn’t you promise me dessert?”
“I was pretty sure you wouldn’t forget about that.” He shook the blanket, then folded it over his arm before taking the tray from her hands. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
True to his word, he was gone only a minute before returning to the backyard. Seeing that his hands were empty she gave him an arched look.
“Okay. Where’s dessert?”
“We have to take a walk for it.”
“A walk?”
He nodded. “To the ice cream parlor.”
“Oh. It’s the perfect night for it. What a great idea.” She danced along beside him and paused as he opened the garden gate. Then they started up the sidewalk that led into town.
As they walked Lizbeth waved to a boy on a bicycle who shot past them before saying, “That’s Billy Barton, who delivers the paper.”
She waved to a couple cruising past in their car. “Reverend Watson and his wife, Mary Lyn.”
“And this guy?” Colin nodded toward a man in sweats huffing toward them. “He looks familiar.”
“You met him at the drugstore. That’s Seth Simpson, getting his evening workout.” She smiled. “Evening, Seth.”
“Beth. Colin. A grand night for a walk.” He strode briskly past, without waiting for their reply.
When they reached Main Street they realized they weren’t the only ones with ice cream on their minds. They stood in line with a dozen others, waiting their turn.
“What’s your pleasure?” Colin asked when they found themselves at the front of the line.
“I think I’ll try a strawberry sundae.”
“Okay. Then I’ll get a hot fudge.” He winked. “That way I’ll get to taste two different flavors.”
She gave him an imperious look. “You will, providing I’m willing to share.”
“I’ll give you a taste of my hot fudge.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know just what buttons to push, don’t you, Colin St. James?”
He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “If that were true, Ms. Sullivan, I’d already have you in my bed.” He saw the quick flush on her cheeks and added, “But here I am, muddling through as best I can, with absolutely no help from you at all.”
She didn’t
know what caught her more by surprise. His admission that he wanted her, or her pleasure at hearing it put into words. There was no denying the thrill that shot straight through her.
Feeling more daring than ever, she gave him a smile filled with devilment. “Oh. It’s my help you want, is it? And all this time I thought the only thing you wanted from me was my good cooking.”
“Believe me, Ms. Sullivan. A man would be willing to starve, as long as he knew he could…indulge his other hunger.”
“Speaking of hunger…” Lizbeth nodded toward the teenage girl behind the counter who took his money and handed him a tray.
They carried their ice cream sundaes to a circular table on a small patio outdoors. When they were seated, Colin handed Lizbeth her sundae, then watched as she took the first taste.
With a smile she dipped her spoon into it a second time and held it to his mouth.
“You’re really going to share?”
“It’s only fair.” She grinned. “Since you’ll then have to share that hot fudge with me. And in case I didn’t mention it earlier, next to strawberry, hot fudge is my favorite.”
“Okay. Fair’s fair.” He dipped his spoon in his own sundae and offered her a taste.
Seeing a drop of fudge on her lower lip he leaned closer and touched a finger to the spot. “I was going to kiss it off, but I figured, with all your friends and neighbors watching, you’d have a lot of explaining to do.”
She chuckled. “Would I ever.”
He paused. “Would that bother you?”
She was still laughing. “I don’t know. It’s never happened to me before.”
“Well then.” Without warning he leaned closer and brushed his mouth over hers. “Let’s find out just how you feel about it,” he whispered against her lips.
She felt the jolt to her system and thought about pulling back, but it was impossible to move. And then, when he moved his tongue over her lower lip, she absorbed a series of tremors that had her hands fisting in her lap.
He drew back slowly, watching her eyes. They were so expressive, revealing every single emotion she was experiencing.
“Well.” He picked up his spoon. “Except for a few glances our way, no one seemed to mind that I kissed you. How do you feel about being kissed in public?”
She strove to keep it light. “I’d say, after strawberry and hot fudge sundaes, it might become my next favorite thing.”
“Yeah?” He gave her a wicked smile and turned toward her. “Maybe we should do it again.”
She put a hand on his chest. “Not a chance. One public kiss is all you get. Besides, you’re melting my ice cream.”
With the sound of their neighbors’ voices carried on the warm evening breeze, they took their time, enjoying the food and the company and the fading light of evening.
Later, with the moon high and the sky a glittering canopy of light, they walked home. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to link fingers as they walked.
When they reached the cottage, Colin unlatched the gate and held it open while Lizbeth started up the walk. He caught up with her at the bottom of the porch.
“Sit with me awhile.”
“All right.” She sat on the glider and he settled himself beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
They listened to the sounds of the night. The hum of insects. The occasional call of a night bird. A boy whistling for his dog.
Colin stretched out his long legs. “I can’t remember when I’ve had such a simple, satisfying day. From beginning to end it’s been like some kind of wonderful gift.”
“It was the same for me, Colin.” She felt a curl of pleasure as his fingers played with the ends of her hair. This time she didn’t question if he knew what his touch did to her. He knew exactly what he was doing. And so did she. “I wish it didn’t have to end.”
“It doesn’t, Lizbeth.”
His voice sounded a little too deep. A little too rough. She turned her head to study him. In the moonlight his eyes were the color of midnight. In profile his rugged, craggy features made her think of a man accustomed to taking what he wanted.
She lay a hand over his. “All good things come to an end.”
“Is that what you believe?” He turned her hand over, running his thumb over her palm, all the while staring deeply into her eyes. “Has everything good in your life always come to an end, Lizbeth?”
She felt a stab, sharp and quick, around her heart and lowered her head. “Yes.”
He caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Doesn’t it?” She knew her lips were quivering and she hated that even now, after all these years, she could be moved by her memories. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing good lasts forever.”
“If you believe that, then why not reach for whatever happiness you can today, and to hell with tomorrow?” He touched a hand to her cheek and leaned close until his breath whispered over her face. “You have to know that I want you, Lizbeth. Desperately.”
“I know. And I want…” She couldn’t say the words. It simply wasn’t possible for her to put such intimate thought into words. “But I need…time.”
He touched his forehead to hers and expelled a long, slow breath. “Take all the time you want.”
She swallowed. “I think I’ll go up to bed now.”
“All right.”
He started to draw back, but she touched a tentative finger to his cheek. “I wouldn’t mind, though, if you kissed me goodnight.”
He closed his eyes a moment, gathering patience. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
He could see the way she withdrew into herself and mentally cursed. She was so timid. So insecure. As she started to get up he stood beside her and offered his hand. He walked her to the door, then brushed his lips lightly over hers. Even that tiny butterfly kiss was enough to rock him back on his heels.
“Good night, Lizbeth. Sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Colin.” She let herself into the house and quickly climbed the stairs.
He remained where he was. Watching and listening as the night closed in around him. And wondering how much longer he could hold all this passion in check before he simply exploded.
Chapter 8
Lizbeth stood in the afternoon sunshine, gathering the sheets off the line and folding them into a big wicker basket. The week had gone by in a blur of work. Shopping, cooking, running errands, as well as baking all sorts of special treats for the annual town dance, the Spring Fling.
She’d thought all the hard work would help keep her mind off Colin. But the simple truth was, nothing could distract her for long. Every time she saw him fresh from the shower, or coming in after a day of work at the Yardley home, she felt familiar twinges of need and guilt.
She paused in her work. What was she going to do about him? Some nights, when she crawled into bed, she taunted herself with thoughts of going to him and simply throwing herself into his arms. But a good stern talking-to usually managed to dissuade her from such foolishness. Still, there had been a few nights when she’d missed a great deal of sleep because of him. The temptation seemed to be getting stronger with every passing day.
She chided herself for wasting time daydreaming when she should be using this time to think about what she would fix for dinner. She’d been planning a ginger-mustard chicken with a Thai cucumber salad, and for dessert, apple crisp. Was that robust enough for a man like Colin who put in such long hours on the job?
She was still mulling the menu as she lifted the basket.
Suddenly she heard Loretta’s voice coming from the other side of the fence. “Oh, I remember when I used to hang my laundry. I can still smell how fresh everything was when I’d bring it indoors.”
“I know. It just seems to bring the springtime right into the house.” Lizbeth lowered the basket to the ground and walked closer. “Enjoying the sunshine?”
The older woman nodded. “Brandi and
I needed some fresh air.”
They both smiled at the antics of the old cat, crouching in the grass, waiting to attack a dandelion waving in the breeze.
When Colin’s truck pulled into the drive and came to a smooth stop, both women turned to watch as he climbed down and made his way toward them.
From her vantage point on the other side of the fence Loretta watched the way Lizbeth’s eyes softened at the sight of him. “Have you asked your young man to the Spring Fling?”
Instantly Lizbeth’s chin came up. “He isn’t my young man, Loretta. And I haven’t asked him.”
“For heaven’s sake, why not?” The old woman chanced a quick glance at her young neighbor’s slightly flushed face. “Are you afraid he might say yes?”
That hit a nerve. Lizbeth was grateful that, before she could think of a reply, Colin called out a greeting.
“Hello, ladies.”
When he paused beside the fence Loretta said, “You’re just the man I wanted to see, Colin St. James.”
“Really?” He gave her a friendly smile. “What about?”
“It’s about our town dance, the Spring Fling, being held tomorrow night.” She ignored Lizbeth’s look of stunned surprise. “I was wondering if you had a date for it.”
He couldn’t bite back the smile that caught at the corner of his lips. “As a matter of fact I don’t. Would you like to be my date?”
Her smile was positively beaming. “I certainly would. I thought you’d never ask. But it’s too far to walk to town. I believe I’ll need to ride in that vehicle.” She pointed to his truck.
“It would be my pleasure, Loretta. What time would you like me to come by for you?”
“Oh, half past seven would be just fine.” She turned to Lizbeth. “If you won’t worry that you’re horning in on my date, you’re welcome to ride along, Beth.”
“Gee, thanks, Loretta.” Lizbeth’s frown grew in direct proportion to Colin’s grin. “That’s very kind of you.”
The old woman held up a hand. “Not at all. I hope you don’t mind, Colin? I know three’s a crowd. But it seems silly for Beth to walk when we’ll be going in her direction anyway.”
“I’d be happy to bring Lizbeth along. Maybe, if you wouldn’t object, I could dance with her once or twice.”
