"Windy, if Sky asked you, would you go out with him?"
"You mean … like on a date?"
"Yeah."
"We're just friends. He would never ask me out."
The young girl persisted. "Just say he did, hypothetically."
Windy glanced up at the ceiling, nibbled her bottom lip. Date Sky? Oh, why not? She hadn't dated anyone in quite a while, and the man did fascinate her. Besides, hypothetically, a friendly date wouldn't change the course of their lives. He'd still be gone by the end of the summer. "Sure, I'd go out with him."
Melissa grinned. "Would you kiss him?"
Immediately a stream of heat pooled low in her belly. She couldn't tell Melissa the truth, that she'd already indulged in that fantasy. "What woman wouldn't want to kiss Sky?" she said, hoping her response sounded generic.
The girl proceeded to set the table, grinning when the front door opened. "He's back."
Sky entered the kitchen, pizza boxes in hand. "Hey, ladies."
Windy found herself staring. How many times had she relived that kiss in her mind? Recalled the feel of Sky's hands on her skin, the texture of his beard stubble, the flavor of his lips?
He placed the food on the counter. "Pepperoni for me and Missy, and vegetarian for you, Windy. I'd say we're ready to eat."
Windy peered into the box deemed hers. "How did you know I was a vegetarian?" She had been prepared to pick the pepperoni off. She didn't like to burden people with her selective food choices.
"Hell, we live together. I've been noticing all kinds of things about you."
Windy observed him through a curious gaze. Simple as his statement was, it struck her as personal. Almost intimate. And it made her realize the strength of their attraction. Apparently he had been watching her the way she watched him, studying her every move, her habits, likes and dislikes. She moistened her lips. Now she wanted to kiss him again even more.
* * *
As they shared the meal, Sky smiled. He knew Melissa and Windy would hit if off. They already seemed like old friends, but then females were like that—secretive and girlish, no matter what their age. And females liked rabbit food, he decided, as Windy poured dressing over her salad. Few men would fill up on greens when they could eat pizza.
Melissa sipped her soda, then wiped her mouth, looking ladylike beyond her years. "Do you know what my mom thinks, Sky?"
"What?" he asked, helping himself to another pizza slice.
"That you and Windy should go on a date."
Windy gasped, and he dropped the pizza, cheese side down, onto his plate. How was he supposed to respond? Especially with his heartbeat skittering. He'd already tried that date routine with Windy. Sort of. Offering to teach her to ride had been his way of asking her out. And she'd refused. Just as well, he figured, since they had agreed not to get romantically involved.
He stole a quick glance at Windy. Lord, he felt like a fool.
"Melissa's friend told Nicky Cardinal that Melissa likes him," Windy said, breaking through the awkward silence in a shaky sort of voice.
He had no idea who Nicky Cardinal was, but he assumed the information was relevant. Somehow.
"That's right," Missy chimed. "And now Nicky's really nice to me."
"Oh, I see." Apparently Melissa had decided he liked Windy and thought it was her feminine duty to prod him into being nice to her. "Well, I'm glad Nicky likes you." Okay, got through that one, he told himself, now change the subject. "Good pizza, huh?"
Melissa glanced at the gooey mess on his plate. "So are you going to ask Windy out or not? You know, she just might surprise you and say yes."
Windy's face flushed, and Sky felt a smile pull at his lips. So, the girls did have a secret. And clearly he was part of it. Suddenly he felt like a kid, green as hell, his knees nearly knocking.
To hell with not getting romantically involved. "So do you want to?" he asked.
She nodded somewhat shyly. "Sure."
He tried to look more relaxed than he felt. What he used to do wasn't really dating, not in the proper sense of the word. Hell, maybe this was going to be his first real date. "How about tomorrow at six?"
"Sure, but I have a hair appointment at five-thirty. I probably won't be ready until closer to seven."
"That's fine. I can drop you off at the salon, then pick you up afterward. We can go out from there." He leaned forward. "You're not getting your hair cut, are you?"
"No. My hairdresser convinced me to have a few pieces highlighted." She lifted a strand of her hair. "Just in front."
"As long as you don't cut it." He wanted to tangle his hands in that sexy mane, wrap his fingers around those rebellious curls.
Melissa clanked her fork against her salad bowl. "People kiss on dates, you know," she said, a pleased-as-pie expression on her face.
"Yeah, I know." Sky balled up a napkin and tossed it at the twelve-year-old before he died of embarrassment. He had no intention of talking about kissing in front of Melissa.
She flung the paper ball back, hitting him square in the forehead. They looked at each other, then burst into short peals of laugher. Windy smiled from across the table, and Sky's heart dove right for his throat. Pretty Windy. Lord, but he wanted her in the worst way.
* * *
Reminding herself to breathe, Windy checked her appearance once again in one of the many mirrors in the beauty salon. If Sky didn't show up soon, she was going to have a full-blown panic attack. Maybe this date wasn't such a good idea, after all.
"Your hair came out great." The flamboyant stylist lifted a can of diet soda to her burgundy lips, then twined a strand of her own red locks. "Perfect, in fact."
"Thanks." Okay, so her hair looked good, but what about her dress? Windy tugged on the bodice. Oh, for Pete's sake. What had possessed her to buy black lycra? She didn't look like a teacher. She looked like a hussy. Dang it. She should have brought something else to wear, something more conservative.
"Too much cleavage?" She whirled around to face the other woman.
"If you've got it, flaunt it." The stylist gave Windy's hair one last fluff. "Stop worrying, you look hot."
Too much cleavage-flaunting wasn't Windy's style. One last yank brought the neckline up to an almost respectable level.
"Talk about hot!" The other woman let out a low whistle. "That gorgeous guy who just walked in the door wouldn't happen to be your date, would he?"
Windy peered around the redhead's voluptuous figure. "My date and my new roommate."
"You live with him? Lucky girl."
"Yes, I am," Windy said, uncomfortably aware that every female stylist in the salon was gawking at Sky. Possibly some of the male stylists, too.
Windy smiled as she approached him. Trust Sky to hide behind a pair of sunglasses and a Stetson. He wasn't about to walk into a building full of strangers and reveal a thing.
The Western attire he wore looked new. White piping lined the collar, cuffs and pockets of a long-sleeved black shirt. A sterling silver concho belt, black jeans and shiny boots completed the tall, dark and handsome package. Somehow, Windy thought, Sky's clean natural virility made the hi-tech atmosphere of the salon appear gaudy.
"Damn," he said when she stood before him.
"Damn?" Confused, she questioned the curse. She preferred to look someone in the eye when conversing with them. He was cheating behind the sunglasses.
"Damn, you look good." He grinned—a slightly boyish, slightly flirtatious smile she recognized all too well.
He took her hand, and they walked out to the parking lot, both silent. When they reached his truck and Sky opened the door for her, Windy halted. A long-stemmed, single red rose graced the bench seat.
She melted, then lifted the flower and inhaled its romantic scent. Red roses meant passion. Would he know that?
"I thought we'd head south a little," he said, steering the truck toward the freeway entrance. "To the beach. There's a restaurant near the pier I like. That okay?"
Tongue-tied a
nd nervous, she nodded.
Sky reached for a CD. "Country okay?"
Again, she nodded.
He placed the CD in the player. "You're awful quiet," he noted when the music started.
Windy listened to the familiar lyrics of the first song. "I'm nervous."
"Really?" He sounded surprised. "About going out with me? Hell, honey, we live together. Just think of us as two friends having dinner."
She sent him a shaky smile. The suggestion was impossible, especially since she kept wondering if their evening would end with a good-night kiss.
Almost an hour later, when they arrived at the restaurant, she took a deep, cleansing breath. The Italian bistro, located a block from the ocean and housed in an ornate Victorian-style building, supplied valet parking, but didn't take reservations. Sky said he preferred it that way. Unlike Windy, he wasn't one to live by the clock.
Writing down the name Skyler, the hostess informed them of the twenty-minute wait. They decided to spend that time in the bar.
Without thinking, Windy reached up and removed Sky's sunglasses. Too often he neglected them when entering a building.
In turn, he lifted his hand to graze her cheek. "You want a glass of wine or something?" He traced the angles of her face. "It will take the edge off, honey."
Windy had yet to relax, but now she felt downright mushy. And a little dizzy. "Okay."
"You look so pretty." He rubbed his index finger back and forth over the clear gloss she wore on her lips, as though waiting for a smile.
He didn't wait long. Every inch of her smiled and warmed at his touch.
The cocktail waitress interrupted the intimate moment. Windy ordered a glass of zinfandel and Sky decided on a soft drink.
"It's honey-flavored," Windy said, watching him press his fingers together. "The lip gloss," she explained when he gave her a puzzled look.
Now it was his turn to smile. "Will I get to taste it?"
She nodded as her heart skipped a beat. Tasting her lip gloss meant kissing her, didn't it?
* * *
Their dinner conversation flowed fairly easily, even though that impending kiss still occupied a portion of Windy's mind. She adjusted the napkin on her lap, then dipped into a plate of manicotti. "This is good."
"Yeah, mine, too." Sky twirled spaghetti around his fork. "Hey, have you thought any more about going riding with me?"
She couldn't help but smile. "Are you asking me on another date already?"
He grinned back at her. "Yeah, I guess I am."
How could she refuse those boyish dimples? "Then I'd love to." It was time, she decided, to face her fears and forget about that childhood fall. Besides, Sky had made trail riding sound glorious—a trip to Heaven.
When they sat silent for a moment, she initiated another conversation, a neutral one she hoped. A trip to Heaven had her thinking about that kiss again. "Did I tell you my father was a musician?" she asked.
"No, you haven't mentioned your family at all."
Family. The word set off a loud alarm in her head. Some neutral subject. Sky didn't have a family, yet here she was, ready to babble about hers.
Sky shook his head. "Hey, none of that. Don't think you can't mention your family around me. I can handle it." He lifted his fork and skewered a meatball. "Now tell me about your musician father."
Grateful for his casual manner, she relaxed a little. "I don't remember him well. He died when I was four. Originally my parents were from Ohio. They moved to California so my dad could pursue his career. He had hoped to find work as a studio musician." She buttered a slice of warm bread, recalling what she'd been told about her father. "He never did, though. He worked as a guitar instructor at a music store instead."
"What about your mom? What did she do?"
"She was an elementary schoolteacher, just like Edith. I really miss her."
"Edith told me she died a few years ago."
"She was a good mom." Windy pictured her mother's sunny smile and casual manner. "It's never easy raising a child alone, but she did her best."
Sky twirled another bite of spaghetti around his fork, but didn't bring it to his lips. "You'll be a good mom, too."
"Thank you. When the time comes, I'll certainly do my best." She tasted the bread, thinking his words sweeter than the melted butter. "Being a parent is the most important job in the world. I mean, think about it. You're responsible for another human being. It goes beyond nine-to-five, and there are no weekends off or early retirement. Once you have a child, you'll always be a parent."
The change in his expression resulted in a furrowed brow. "That proves some people shouldn't have kids."
"I'd have to agree with you there." She wanted to reach across the table and slip her hand in his, touch him, feel his pulse. "But you're not one of those people, Sky. You'll make a terrific father someday."
His breath expanded. "You've got it wrong, Pretty Windy. That whole thing scares the hell out of me."
Because of his upbringing, she thought. Because he hadn't grown up in a healthy, nurturing environment. Now she understood that the loneliness of his childhood had brought about those disturbing frowns. He didn't really have an aversion to kids. "You were wonderful with Melissa last night. She absolutely adores you."
"I've known her all her life. That's different."
Windy smiled. "And if you had a child, don't you think you'd know that child all its life? It's the same thing, only better." She wagged her fork at him. "Nothing you say will make me change my mind. You've got it in you to be a dad."
He glanced down at his plate. "Do you think I'd be all right with a teenager? I hear they're pretty tough to handle."
Although she thought the question odd, she answered it casually. "Melissa is almost a teenager."
"But she's a girl."
Apparently he assumed boys were harder to raise. Another conclusion drawn from his own experiences, she thought. After all, he had been an incorrigible youth. "It's not as if a teenage boy is going to drop into your life. If you have a son, you'll raise him from infancy. And you'll do just fine."
He looked up, breathed heavily, glanced back down, breathed audibly again, then pushed his plate away.
"Sky? What's the matter?"
"Huh?" His gaze caught hers. "Nothin'. It's just you have the wrong impression of me."
"No. You have the wrong impression of you."
His voice turned hard. "No. You do. I don't wanna get married and I'm not the dad type. Responsibility isn't my style." He narrowed his eyes into protective slits. "What you see is what you want to see. It's not what's really there. Good and decent I'm not."
The arrow that pierced Windy's heart reached her soul in one sharp jab. What he'd said frightened the woman in her. Not the friend or the future psychologist, but the woman. She fought a wave of panic. Sensible Windy had taken an unexpected turn and fallen head over dangerous heels for the wrong man.
Wrong? No, he wasn't wrong. He was troubled. And he needed her unwavering support. She smiled a shaky smile. "I already told you, nothing you say will change my mind about you. You're one of the good guys, Sky."
His lips broke into a grin. "And you, Pretty Windy, are stubborn as hell."
She sipped her water. "Truthfully, I'm still a bit nervous." Especially since that romantic night in bed had come whirling back into her mind. Which, she decided, accounted for her disjointed emotions, her sudden urge to undress him, kiss and touch and make him as weak-kneed as she.
"Really? You seem fine."
"Do I?"
He continued to grin. "Yeah. Ladylike and proper."
He looked sexy, his hair dipping over his forehead, his cheekbones shadowed by the flickering candlelight. And those dimples, those boyish, rakish dimples. She had never wanted to touch a man so badly in her life.
Windy slid her fingers down the cool exterior of her water glass, her voice sultry, even to her own ears. "Sometimes I have improper thoughts." Unconsciously she moistened her lips. "Wild th
oughts." Like the ones scrambling around in her head at this very moment. "Lately I've been fantasizing about us," she whispered, as a flare of heat surged through her veins.
At first Sky only stared, then shifted uncomfortably in his seat as though his jeans had suddenly grown too tight. "Me, too," he said finally, the hunger in his eyes barely contained.
"Oh…" Windy became flustered, realizing how blatantly sexual her admission had been. "I shouldn't have said that." Thoroughly embarrassed, she pushed her glass away. "I'm sorry."
He shifted again. "Hey, there's no need to apologize. We're both young, healthy adults living in the same house. Hell, we're bound to—"
As luck would have it, the busboy chose that moment to refill their glasses, stilling Sky's next words. After the boy moved on, Sky lifted his water and took a huge swallow, looking as though he wanted to douse himself with it instead—cool his raging hormones. "What do you say … should we go for a walk? Maybe check out the pier?"
Windy nodded, grateful for the suggestion. What she needed right now was air—plenty of brisk, clean air.
* * *
Chapter 9
« ^ »
A warm summer breeze, salty sea air and a bright moon welcomed them. Hands clasped, Sky and Windy walked silently to the pier.
They stood on the boardwalk and leaned against the rail, mesmerized by the dark ocean below. Flowing and foaming, the water swayed into gentle, mystical waves.
As powerful as the ocean's current was the need Sky felt for this woman. A need that went beyond lust. A need so strong it terrified him.
He turned toward Windy, admiring her in the moonlight. The wind lifted her long hair, whipping it freely. He caught a golden strand, then held his breath. Oh, dear God, how he craved her.
Windy closed her eyes and shivered, her flesh clearly tingling with a craving of its own. "Are you cold?" he asked, a loose tendril of her hair still within his grasp.
She opened her eyes and slowly, very slowly, shook her head. "I'm nervous again."
SKYLER HAWK: LONE BRAVE Page 10
