by Megan Hart
He did. He'd managed to get his trunks on, at least, and his jeans. "Can we please go now?
"Can you make it?"
"Yes, Laila, I can make it."
"Just asking," she said.
By the time they'd walked the distance to the outdoor whirlpool, Hal was shaking and he'd taken her hand. Of course, he'd taken it in response to seeing her brother Mark and his wife Debbie coming down the path toward them, but he hadn't let go even after they passed. At this time of day, the gazebo and hot tub were deserted, though Laila suspected more than one pair of watchful eyes peeked at them from the windows in the lodge.
Hal sank into the water with a sigh of relief so great it was almost a sob. "Thank God."
"I'm sorry, Hal," Laila said sincerely. "We didn't have to go on the ride this morning."
The hot water seemed to be reviving him because he actually managed a smile. The sheer charm of it made her catch her breath. Laila looked away, concentrating on skimming off her clothes and dipping into the hot water before the cool air could do more than tickle her.
"You mean you didn't tell them I'm a champion rider as well as a champion proctologist?"
"No." Actually, she hadn't told them very much at all, though there'd been plenty of questions. She'd usually managed to duck the more probing ones. "You didn't do so bad."
He raised one eyebrow at her. "If you call getting tossed into a vat of slimy, freezing water not too bad, then I guess you're right."
He had a good sense of humor about himself. Laila liked that. Ian would never have admitted to being anything less than an athletic god. For him to do anything less than perfectly was impossible--at least in his own eyes.
"I hope I'm not interrupting the canoodling," interrupted a booming male voice.
"No, Uncle Ira. Of course not." Laila smiled weakly up at her grandfather's younger brother. "Are you coming in?"
The massive man with the infectious grin chortled. "If you two love birds don't mind."
"Not at all," Hal said. His voice had returned to normal.
The hot tub must be working for him.
"Hey, Myrna! Lou! Yetta! The kids aren't fooling around! C'mon in!"
All at once, the empty hot tub became nearly overcrowded as Laila's aunts and uncles joined them. What had seemed like gallons of water between she and Hal had shrunk to microscopic drops as they were pressed closer to one another to accommodate the crowd.
His thigh, delightfully rough with crinkly hair, slid against her smooth one. His hip nudged hers beneath the bubbling water. His calf--she could feel the muscles she'd so earlier admired--rubbed hers, slipped away, then snuck back again for another stroke. The water caressed them, tickled them, bubbled around and over them, bringing them together and forcing them apart.
Dear Lord, Laila thought somewhat faintly as the steam rose all around her with her family's laughter. I am getting overheated.
Chapter 4
The stint in the hot tub's soothing wonders had done him a world of good, but Hal still winced as he bent to tie his shoes. The ache in his butt and thighs had faded, but his knees grumbled in protest with every movement. A lot of good all those LoveMatch sponsored workouts had done him.
Laila came out of the bathroom, looking fresh in another pair of corduroy pants and a gold colored turtleneck. "Brrrr. Is it cold in here?"
It was a little chilly in the room, but Hal didn't really notice. Looking at Laila made him feel a lot warmer. He finished tying his shoes. "We can check the radiator."
She checked her watch. "We can do that later. It's just about time for the afternoon entertainment to start."
Laila's Bubbe had come by the hot tub earlier and invited all of them to come down for the staff-run entertainment in the main lodge. Apparently, Bramblewood hosted games and ongoing activities to round out its menu of outdoor activities. This afternoon it was some sort of trivia game with prizes. Hal was pretty good at trivia.
Now Laila looked at him and cocked her head to the side in the way he was beginning to recognize as her thoughtful pose. "You look nice."
Her compliment pleased him. He looked down at his jeans, dark green turtleneck and heavy black sweater. "Thanks!"
"You actually match," she said. "But let me see your socks."
Socks. Darn. Hal lifted his pants legs and revealed the socks sticking out of his hiking boots. One black and one dark brown.
Laila laughed. "Why not just buy them all the same color?"
"I thought I did," Hal said ruefully.
She cocked her head at him again, and her eyes drifted over his face, then down his body and up again. A smile formed on the mouth he'd begun finding himself thinking about at inopportune times. Her assessment stirred him in a way that might quickly become uncomfortable or awkward if he didn't do something fast.
"Baseball," Hal blurted. Was that out loud?
Laila's dreamy gaze snapped to clarity. Her brow creased. "What?"
"Uh--baseball," Hal said. Well, he didn't have to worry his body's reaction any more. Embarrassment was a great way to quench desire. "Do you like baseball?"
She shrugged. The mood, whatever it had been, had passed. Now she busied herself with slipping her sweater over her head and brushing out her hair. "I guess so. What brought that up?"
Brought up, indeed. "I just wondered if there'd be any baseball trivia at that game today."
"I doubt it." Laila finished her preparations and tucked the key into her pocket. "It's some sort of Bramblewood version of the Newlywed Game."
At least he'd managed to cover himself. "Sounds fun."
"You're being a really great sport about this whole trip," Laila said. To his surprise and pleasure, she reached out to take his hand. "Thanks, Hal."
The touch of her fingers sent an electrical shock all the way down his arm. "I'm paid to please, Laila," he gibbered, barely aware of what was flying out of his mouth.
She withdrew her hand. Her eyes, which had been clear just the moment before, clouded. "Oh, right. Well. Let's go. We don't want to miss anything."
She left ahead of him. Hal allowed himself the guilty pleasure of watching her rear-end roll beneath the sturdy corduroy pants. She caught him looking when she turned unexpectedly.
"What are you doing?"
He had no answer that wouldn't sound just plain stupid. "Nothing."
She hmmphed. The walk to the main lodge led them along a twisting maze of trails through gardens that now bloomed with mums and late fall displays of pumpkins and scarecrows. They passed the hot tub in its gazebo, empty now. The playground looked somehow forlorn with the swings and seesaws removed for the winter.
Hal caught up to her and took her hand. Laila jerked at his touch, but didn't pull away. Ahead of them lay the main lodge, and they could see members of the group heading down other paths toward it.
"Would you rather I didn't hold your hand?" He spoke in a low voice as they approached the steps to the front porch.
"No, no," she said in a tone that sounded forced. "I guess you should. It adds to the realism."
"That's what I thought." What he'd actually thought was that he wanted to feel her skin on his again. Now he was close enough to smell her perfume. Roses? As they climbed the steep stairs, he let her move just enough ahead of him that he could bend forward to sniff the fragrance again.
"What are you doing?" Laila's tone was angry, but she was smiling. "Hi, Bubbe!"
Hal turned and saw Esther and Saul on the porch's far side. They waved but didn't come over. Esther pointed inside and Hal nodded. "We'll be there in a minute!"
As soon as Laila's grandparents disappeared into the house, her smile turned down. "Hal?"
"You smell good."
"Oh." His answer seemed to unnerve her. "So you had to sniff me?"
Before he could answer, she'd grabbed him around the neck and pressed her mouth to his. Hal didn't question...he just reacted. Her body against his was solid but curvy beneath her heavy clothes. Her lips were softer even than
he'd imagined.
Then, just like that, she pulled away. For another moment, Hal mouthed the air before realizing she was no longer there. "Laila?"
"Sorry to interrupt." Ruth grinned and looked completely unapologetic. "I just wanted to know if you two were coming in."
"We'll be there in just a minute," Laila said.
How had a kiss so brief turned her mouth so red and her hair so mussed?
Ruth nodded and winked at Hal. "We'll be waiting for you. Don't be late."
Laila's sister went into the house. Laila sighed. "Sorry."
He didn't want her to be sorry. He wanted her to kiss him again. Hal understood she'd only kissed him to impress her sister. "Hey, that's what--"
"What you're paid for." Laila frowned. "I know."
He stepped closer to her, pulling her in next to him. She had to tilt her head to look up at him. "Maybe we should practice a little bit more before we go in. You know, just to make it look a little more--realistic."
Hal thought for sure she'd see right through his obvious suggestion. He hadn't overstepped the LoveMatch rules of propriety, but if she said no, he wouldn't be able to ask again, unless she initiated contact. She stared at him so long and with such an expression of concentration he knew she was going to say no and probably fire him in the bargain.
Instead, Laila stepped further into Hal's embrace. "That sounds like a good idea," she said, and offered up her mouth to him again.
Laila had only kissed him because she'd spotted Ruth heading toward them. The way they stood, with Hal leaning so close to her, looked awkward. Ruth had eyes like a hawk and Laila didn't want her sister to suspect anything, so she kissed him.
The kiss had lasted only a few moments, barely enough time for her to register any sensation. Besides, she'd been so consumed with making it look natural to Ruth there had been no room for anything else. Hal did have a point, though. If they were going to pass for an engaged couple, and one sharing a room no less, they'd better make it look real enough to fool her family.
"You mean it?" he asked her, then seemed to recover. "I mean, yeah. Right."
Why wasn't he kissing her? Why was he just--looking at her? Sudden self-consciousness flooded her and Laila took a step back. She didn't want to think about this, for Heaven's sakes! Just do it!
Hal's face took on an expression of determination, and he stepped in to cover the distance she'd created between them. He bent to kiss her. Hesitated. She leaned up as he leaned down. Both of them wavered this time. It was just like being back in junior high, only they were on the front porch of a Victorian mansion instead of somebody's rec room closet.
This close, she could see his green eyes were really hazel, tiny sparkles of gold in them. His broad mouth, which looked much handsomer with a smile on it, had thinned with concentration. He looked like he was going to bite her, not kiss her.
The longer they danced around this, the worse it was going to be. And what if someone saw them? Even worse...was watching them now? They probably both looked like a couple of idiots.
Laila took a deep breath, grabbed Hal by the front of his thick sweater and stood on her toes to reach his mouth. This time they came together in a spectacular crash of teeth against teeth, gums against gums. Laila felt Hal's lips squash on hers. She'd heard of bells ringing during a kiss, but she'd always imagined them sounding like celestial fairy chimes. Not ambulance sirens.
"Er." Hal grimaced. "Whoa."
"Well, that won't do at all," Laila said angrily. She put her hands on her hips and glanced around the porch to make sure they were still alone. "Ms. Whitehead told me you guys took classes and stuff!"
"Hey, wait a minute," Hal said, clearly affronted. He gingerly felt his mouth. "We do. I did. But we don't--we don't take kissing classes!"
"Well, that's obvious," Laila said. She was being unfair, perhaps irrational, but her embarrassment fueled her.
Another look of grim determination slid down over Hal's face. He pulled her against the full length of his body, his fingers gripping her upper arms nearly tight enough to hurt. He bent to her mouth, sliding his lips against hers.
Laila, caught unprepared, didn't have time to take a breath. Or was it the way he smelled that left her gasping for air? Or the way his broad chest felt crushed against hers? Whatever caused the sensations ripping through her, she surrendered to them wholeheartedly.
Hal's mouth was sweet like oranges, his lips plump with passion. They teased her lips, urging them to open. His tongue swiped delicately at hers, once and twice. When she tried to return the gesture, though, all at once he broke away.
Hal stepped away from her so quickly she almost fell without the support of his hands. "I'd say that was better, wouldn't you?"
Laila's knees were still weak, but she recognized a challenge when she heard one. "It was all right. Why don't you let me give it a try?"
The staff had not yet taken down the swing hanging from the porch's beams. Laila put her hands on Hal's chest, pushing him down with a sudden movement so he stumbled to the side. His leg hit the swing and he sat, grabbing for the high back so he wouldn't fall.
Laila followed his movements with her own, sliding her knee onto the swing's seat and bracing herself against the back. Her mouth was on Hal's before he had time to even make a sound. The swing rocked as she kissed him. She made no pretense of tenderness, and he demanded none. There was no hesitation between them this time. His tongue met hers with a strong, swift stroke that twisted and turned her stomach. His free hand reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her toward him.
Laila almost lost her balance, but caught herself before falling on him completely by putting her hand on his shoulder. Hal's hand moved to the back of her neck, and his fingers found the sensitive part just behind her ear. The breadth of his shoulder beneath her hand made her slip her fingers down to the even broader expanse of his chest.
Both of them came up for air, breathing heavily. She could feel a flush along her cheeks and knew it continued down her throat and to the first swell of her breasts.
"Not bad," Hal said hoarsely. "But practice does make perfect."
What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? The question pounded in her mind as Laila watched Hal move in for another kiss. This wasn't supposed to happen. A few pecks on the mouth, a little bit of hand holding, maybe a hug or two just to make sure everyone saw them being affectionate. But making out like teenagers on the front porch swing while, she realized in sudden horror, her nephew Henry looked on from the front parlor window?
"Oh, Lord," she muttered, turning her face before Hal could catch her again.
He must have sensed she wasn't just spouting words of passion because he stopped. "Laila?"
She didn't want to point, so instead she rolled her eyes toward the window. "We have an audience."
Hal glanced there and saw Henry. "Oops."
"We really should go in." Laila looked down and saw that, at some point, her hands had ended up all over him. So had his on her.
She disentangled herself carefully and stood. Hal followed, less quickly, and it took her a long, dumb moment to realize why. When she saw him shift uncomfortably and pull his sweater down over his belt, her blush deepened. At the same time, she couldn't fight the grin that wanted to leap out. Had she affected him that much?
"Aunt Laila, what were you guys doing?" Henry asked when they came in the front door.
"Oh, just--tickling each other," Laila said lightly and ruffled the little boy's hair.
Henry frowned. "It didn't look like you guys were laughing."
She shot Hal a glance. "No, I guess we weren't."
Henry shrugged with a four-year-old's wisdom. "Sometimes, when Daddy tickles Mommy, she doesn't laugh either. And hey, Aunt Laila, you know what?"
"What?" Laila asked in trepidation, hoping she wasn't going to be unwillingly let in on Ruth and Frank's bedroom habits.
"Chicken butt!" Henry laughed gleefully, slapping his little knee. "You k
now why?"
"Why?" Laila asked, laughing along with him.
"Chicken thigh!" This really set Henry off into gales of laughter. His small face scrunched up in the sheer pleasure of the joke, and Laila loved him so much she had to suddenly bend down and kiss his sweet, soft cheeks until he yelled and pushed away.
"Yuck," he said resentfully, rubbing away the marks she'd left. "I'm getting out of here!"
Watching him go, Hal smiled. "He's a great kid."
"Yes." Laila sighed. "They all are."
"You'd be a great mom," Hal said.
"Sure." Laila laughed, though she didn't feel like it.
"No, I mean it." Hal took her hand. "You're great with him. With all of them."
"Someday," she said, and stopped. Then shrugged, as though it didn't matter. "Should we find the others?"
Hal nodded. He didn't let go of her hand. They walked down the hall toward the stairs leading to the lodge's lower level. How had something as simple and complicated as a few kisses made holding his hand seem so natural?
"What is your mate's favorite color?" The young man read the question off the card, then looked at the contestants expectantly.
Hal had been able to answer most of the questions so far, hair color, eye color, height. But now he stared at his blank card and fiddled with his pen. What to answer? He snuck a glance around at the other men sitting in the folding chairs. All of them were busy scribbling. He was the only one with a blank look on his face. He thought hard, and decided to take a guess. Laila looked good in purple, and he'd noticed she wore it often. Purple, he wrote on the card.
"What is your mate's favorite perfume?" That's easy. Roses. She smelled like roses.
"Now here's a hard one, guys. What size shoe does your mate wear?"
At least Hal wasn't the only one with a blank look this time. The crowd laughed and teased as the men who'd gamely agreed to play the Bramblewood game shrugged and scribbled.
"All right, now let's bring out our ladies and have them answer the questions! Whoever gets the most right wins!" The young man, dressed in a pullover with Bramblewood's logo embroidered on it, waved the cards in the air. "Ready?"
