by Brandi Evans
Considering Seth’s large stature, was his cock as supersized as the rest of him?
Her gaze fell to his feet. Well, if that old adage about shoe size was even close to being true. Whew!
“Dad,” Lyndi said, shaking off the delightedly impure thoughts, “this is Seth Jones, and he’s a cop. Seth, this is my dad, Carl Garrison.”
“A cop, huh? Well, isn’t this a nice change? You bringing cops home, instead of cops bringing you home.”
“Dad!”
But he just laughed and extended his hand to Seth and her fake date didn’t hesitate in returning the gesture.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Seth said, and damn if he didn’t sound like he meant it. “I appreciate you letting me intrude on a family gathering.”
Dad waved him off. “If Lynds likes you enough to torture—I mean invite—you into the lion’s den, then well…you’re practically family, Seth.”
Shit, Dad. Are you trying to make sure my love life stays nun-approved?
Seth took everything in stride. He smiled, saying, “Thank you, Mr. Garrison. I’m pleased to be an honorary Garrison for the evening.”
“I like this guy already, Lynds.” Her dad gave her a squeeze then pointed over his shoulder toward the open door. “You kids get inside. I’m gonna take a quick look at your car.”
Seth spoke before she could. “Would you like some help, sir?”
“That’d be great, and please…” Dad clasped Seth’s shoulder, leading him back down the stairs and toward the driveway, “call me Carl.”
“I think it’s the radiator,” Seth said. “I filled the reservoir but I don’t know if…”
Their voices faded into the darkness.
Wow. That intro had been easy. Too easy. Either Dad was drinking again, or maybe she and Seth had somehow been thrust into a parallel reality where fathers were polite to their youngest daughters’ dates.
Date? Seth wasn’t a real date. Yet after their fabulous kiss on the porch, her fake date wasn’t feeling so fake anymore.
She shook her head. Inviting a total stranger to a family function to pretend to be her date? Shit. Her parents were right. She was too impulsive for her own good. The trait served her well as an artist. As a person in general…not so much.
Coming on to men was an art form she’d perfected as painstakingly as the perfect brushstroke, but she’d always employed her boldness in a safe environment—aka not along the side of the goddamned road. Seth Jones could be the next Ted Bundy for all she knew.
She suppressed an immediate smile. Seth? A serial killer? Hell no. A murderer of his own dreams and aspirations maybe—if the sorrow and grief in his soulful brown eyes was any clue.
If he was a monster then she was a saint and “saint” was one thing no one had ever called her. A bitch, a rebel, a slut, a brash feminist, yes, but never a saint.
Besides, Seth was a cop—from somewhere anyway. Probably a detective, possibly undercover. She couldn’t think of any other way to explain his shoulder-length hair. She made a mental note to find out more about him.
Sighing, she walked inside and braced herself for the onslaught of questions that would begin in three, two, one—
“Lyndi!” Her middle sister’s shriek pierced through the entryway, followed not so quickly by the woman herself. At almost nine months pregnant, beautiful blonde-haired Traci didn’t move anywhere quickly these days.
Lyndi fought down a familiar wave of sadness at the sight of her pregnant sister. After almost nine months of seeing Traci with child, Lyndi would have thought the pang in her heart would go away, but it hadn’t. She’d told her sister she was happy for her, and she was.
Please, God, don’t let these feelings get worse after the child is born.
For her sister’s sake, Lyndi plastered on what she hoped looked like a genuine smile—she wouldn’t let her grief overcome her, not tonight.
Not ever again.
“I’m totally skipping the hellos,” Traci sang, “and going right to the part where I say, ‘Wow, sis! Your date…totally hot in the yellow bug lights on the front porch. Yum!’”
“It’s nice to know I don’t have to worry about my family spying on me from the living room anymore.” Lyndi made an exaggerated show of wiping nonexistent sweat from her brow. “What a relief!”
Mari, an attractive brunette who somehow managed to get prettier with every pound she gained, joined the conversation, trying to get control of Traci’s annoying little Yorkie, Jo-Jo. “You know, yum doesn’t even begin to describe him, Trace, so don’t insult the man.”
Mari turned to Lyndi, her grin wide. Seeing Mari smile was such a relief. Since her horrific divorce from Paul, who’d be forever referred to as “the cheating bastard”, Mari hadn’t been herself.
“Details,” Mari said. “Give us lots and lots of details.”
Yep, the piranhas were definitely out for blood tonight. Too bad Laurence wasn’t here—her twin brother always had her back. Especially against their older sisters. And she had his. She was the only family member that called him by his full name—not Larry. He hated being called Larry.
Still, Lyndi couldn’t help but smile at Mari’s and Traci’s envious teasing. It had been a while since she’d had a date, let alone brought one of them home to meet the family. “Well, his name is Seth Jones.” Making her sisters sweat for a few more seconds, she shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it over the staircase railing. A quick neckline check assured her the low-dipping “V” of her dark blue dress was in place. “And he is pretty hot, isn’t he?”
“Um, yeah!” Traci linked her arm with Lyndi’s as they walked through the house’s interior. The decor hadn’t changed much since Lyndi had called this her primary residence. Lots of space accented with hardwood floors, seaside brown and green walls that complimented the rustic furnishings her mom adored. To the left was the living area, to the right the semi-formal dining room and along the back way, bay windows and fluffy pillows invited anyone to come and enjoy the beauty of Redemption Harbor Bay where it backed up to the yard.
Lyndi pointed at Jo-Jo as Mari finally put the dog down, the creature barking in a high-pitched yap reminiscent of his owner. “What’s mutt-dog doing here?” Lyndi asked Traci.
“Mom and Dad are doggie-sitting him for me until I deliver or Manuel gets home. Whichever comes first. I’m getting tired, and quite incapable, of chasing after the idiot dog every time he gets out of the apartment, which he seems to do all the damn time. Now enough about my dog.” Traci hooked her thumb toward the front door. “Dish. We need to know everything. We’re living our love lives through you right now.”
Lyndi laughed. With “the cheating bastard” finally out of Mari’s life and Traci’s husband on active duty somewhere in the mountains of Afghanistan—in the same unit as Laurence—none of them had had much excitement in the sexual arena lately.
Her earlier thought came roaring back. What was Seth’s shoe size anyway?
Traci grabbed Lyndi by the arm and gave her a shake. “Come on! Dish it, sista. Don’t you know better than to keep a pregnant woman waiting!”
Lyndi fought the urge to roll her eyes. Traci’s sentence would have been more accurate if she’d replaced “a pregnant woman” with “me”. With child or not, Traci was an admitted gossip addict.
“Well, Seth and I haven’t known each other long.” Lyndi had to raise her voice over super-active Jo-Jo, who was circling at her feet like a crack-mutt on a supersonic carousel. “Our relationship started rather abruptly. Just wham! Now here we are.”
Okay, that was mostly true. So far, so good.
“Hmm,” Mari sighed, her voice whimsical. “Why can’t I get whammed? I could use a really good wham right about now.” She laughed, the sound bleak. “Hell! I don’t even remember the last time I got whammed!”
“Does he have a brother?” Traci butted in.
Lyndi cocked her head and stared at her middle sister. “Why do you care? You’re married.”
<
br /> She held her hands up, palms toward the ceiling. “I’m curious…for my big sis’ sake.”
Lyndi rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. But I can’t help but notice you didn’t ask if he had a sister. Ya know, for your younger brother’s sake.”
Traci shrugged and the three sisters shared a laugh as they reached the kitchen where their mother’s smiling face greeted them. Erika Garrison looked the way she did in all of Lyndi’s childhood memories. Simple red button-down shirt and comfortable jeans. Bare feet. Flour-stained apron around her waist. Blonde hair swept back from her face and tied with a scrunchie. Makeup that underscored her natural beauty instead of covering it.
A content warmth seeped through Lyndi’s veins. Yep. I’m home…
“Lyndi, I’m glad you made it safely.”
Her mom enveloped her in a hug that betrayed how strong a five-foot-two woman could be, and Lyndi hugged her back with an embrace just as fierce. Her mom might be petite but she set the standard for feminine strength. Everything Lyndi was she owed to her mother. Even the bad, tactless remarks that sometimes, okay often, leapt from her mouth.
“Maybe this will serve as a reminder to take your phone out of your pockets before throwing them in the washer. Then you’d have a way of calling for help when your car breaks down.”
“Ah, Mom…” Lyndi pulled back, smiling. “I love you too.”
She rolled her eyes, another trait Lyndi had picked up.
“Hey, Mom,” Traci said, “you’re gonna love this.”
Traci paused for dramatic effect. Lyndi hated that.
“Lyndi brought a date!”
“A…date?” Her mom’s voice pitched a few octaves higher.
“Oh, come on!” Lyndi threw her hands into the air. She’d known bringing Seth along would cause a bit of an uproar, she’d planned on it, but geez. “My love life isn’t that abysmal. Is it?”
No one answered but their silence spoke volumes.
And wasn’t that great? Her family thought she was a man-less loser, which was only partly true. A loser she wasn’t. But man-less? Guilty as charged.
“His name is Seth,” Lyndi said, banishing all thoughts of loser-ness. “And before you ask…no, we’re not super serious. Don’t go rushing out to buy bridal magazines, okay?”
“But they were making out on the front porch,” Mari added. “We’re talking massive touchy-feely. Dad caught them. Traci and I peeked. A little.”
“A lot actually,” Traci confessed. “But this is Lynds we’re talking about. With. A. Guy.”
Lyndi shook her head. “What is this? Gang up on Lyndi night?”
“Of course not.” Her mother put her arm around Lyndi. “We’re just happy to see you with someone other than the men you paint.”
“Or the men you sculpt,” Mari added. “However, that statue you created last year, the Greek god in the loin cloth? I would have totally done him if he’d come to life.”
Another eye roll threatened to seize control. Luckily, the front door squeaked open and Seth’s and Dad’s…laughter carried into the kitchen. Wow. Didn’t sound forced either.
“What about college?” her father asked. “Did you ever play in college?”
Lyndi shook her head. Apparently, Dad hadn’t let up on his football inquisition.
“No,” Seth insisted. “I’ve never played before. I was raised to be more of a conscientious observer. I prefer reading and writing to tackles and touchdowns. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good game though.”
Her dad laughed. “Reading and writing? No wonder my Lynds likes you. She always had a soft spot for those tall, sensitive types.”
The two men rounded the corner and Seth’s eyes found Lyndi’s. Bright emotions filled Seth’s. Not the same melancholy that had dominated the brown tints earlier. The darker feelings were still there. They’d simply taken a backseat to the glimmers of cheerfulness and contentment. His lips actually curved into a smile that spoke of ease and comfort, not hesitation.
He was enjoying himself?
Seth strolled toward her and, like a good faux beau, put his arms around her and pulled her close. Without her jacket on, he seemed even larger, stockier than before. His embrace made her feel as though she was tied with a rope of fire. Only the fire didn’t burn—it inflamed.
What would it feel like if she held him skin to skin?
Did she want to find out?
“It’s definitely the radiator,” Seth said, “or at least something related to your radiator. The reservoir is almost dry again, but it’s too dark to get underneath the chassis and locate the leak.”
“O-okay.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll, um, take it to the shop tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you hold off on that,” he said. “Your dad and I are going to look at it tomorrow morning and, if the problem is simple, maybe we can fix it. Save you some money.”
“Tomorrow? You?”
One-word questions were apparently the most complex inquiries her mind could form at the moment. Her fake boyfriend was making plans for tomorrow with her father…?
This was either a fantabulous turn of luck or the makings of a bad horror movie. Psycho boyfriend burrows his way into unsuspecting girlfriend’s life by connecting with her family. Insert sinister music.
“Yeah,” Seth whispered, leaning close…closer. “Unless you don’t want me to, and I’ll step back.”
“No. It’s not that. I just thought—”
He didn’t let her finish. More precisely his lips didn’t.
His kiss, a brief caressing of lips, sent her zooming down a spiraling slide of confusion and damn if she didn’t want to grab hold of him with both hands and go for the ride of her life. However, since her entire family was watching, Lyndi didn’t fight when Seth pulled back.
* * * * *
After dinner, Lyndi and Seth headed to the family’s oceanside deck to enjoy the moonbeams as they danced on the harbor. Her family stayed inside to clean up and, most importantly, to gossip.
After all, what was a Garrison family dinner without gossip? And boy had Lyndi given them a lot to talk about.
She looked sideways at Seth as they traversed the steep steps leading from the back door to the beachfront deck.
What am I going to do about you, Seth Jones?
The man was a complete mystery. He’d looked content as they ate. He’d answered all questions directed at him. Hell, he asked questions of his own too, even if most of his questions seemed strategic, as if he were trying, nonchalantly, to turn the focus of the conversation off himself. Someone would ask him about his job, and suddenly they’d be discussing politics.
Was it her imagination seeing diversions that weren’t really there?
She hoped so because she wanted to get to know the enigmatic man better.
As they stepped onto the deck, Seth draped an arm around her. A square terrace butting right up to Redemption Harbor Bay, the “deck” didn’t attach to the house itself. On nice summer days she liked to sit on the edge and dangle her legs into the water, the ocean so clear she could see the sand below.
Two small lighthouses bracketed the bay and gave the entire area a movie-set quality. Places this beautiful shouldn’t exist without the aid of Hollywood magic. Many times, Lyndi had set her canvas here and tried to capture the idyllic scene. And failed. She just couldn’t get it quite right.
Tonight, however, her place of respite felt anything but serene and peaceful.
Anticipation and something akin to fear crawled inside her skin like an army of red ants. The evening was winding down—okay, it was really over and she was procrastinating—but she was Seth’s ride. That meant she’d have to take him back to his hotel.
And just what would they do when they got there? To fuck, or not to fuck? The question of the hour.
She didn’t want to say goodbye yet, but she didn’t know if she was ready for naked conversations in bed either.
Seth pointed to the inlaid fire pit. “Would you like me to start a fire?
”
“No thanks.” At this point, the flames would be overkill. With Seth’s arms around her, even the polar icecaps wouldn’t be enough to cool her.
“Okay. Then will you at least tell me what you’re thinking? You were so quiet on the walk out here and you don’t seem like the kind of woman to be silent unless something’s bothering her.”
She smiled. “Guilty as charged.”
But what did she tell him? That she was pondering the pros and cons of taking their relationship to the bedroom?
Yeah, that’d go over well.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against her skin. “If you’re worrying about that man—”
“No. No. Not at all,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “I’m…just trying to figure you out, Mr. Jones.”
His forehead wrinkled. “I didn’t think I was hard to figure out. I’m a workaholic loner in desperate need of a life. I thought you caught onto that already.”
She laughed. “I might have deduced that, yes. Mr. Works-On-A-Friday-Night-While-On-Vacation.”
“See? Nothing to figure out.”
Yeah right. She kept the reply to herself. There was plenty to figure out about this man.
Seth moved to the railing and, elbows resting on the wide ledge, looked out at the water. “You said you have an art show opening soon… Do you have a particular theme? Or is it a free-for-all? A conglomeration of all things Lyndi Garrison.”
Imagine that. Seth changing the subject. The man truly didn’t like talking about himself.
Lyndi plastered on a smile and forced laughter into her voice. If their relationship progressed, she’d press him for information. “Wow. That had to have been, like, well over twenty words. And totally spontaneous. I’m impressed!”
A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Glad I could amuse you.”
She gave his back a playful rub. “The theme for my show is Light and Dark. My take on contrast. Good and evil. Life and death. Angels and demons.”
