As the door closed behind us, Audrey slipped her hand in mine and led the way to my bike.
I handed her a helmet. “Do you really have a swimsuit on?” I asked.
“Yes, and socks in my purse in case we go bowling.”
I chuckled and pulled a small leather jacket out of my saddle bag. “Here, try this. It’s my mom’s.”
She stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “I wanted to wear yours again. It smells like you.”
My pulse pounded in my ears. Conscious that someone could be watching from the windows of the nearby houses, I stayed where I was, even though everything in me wanted to move forward. “I guess if you want to smell me, you’ll have to stay close.”
“That won’t be a problem,” she said. “Now get on that motorcycle. We only have six hours.”
I drove us to Bicknell, a town twenty minutes away. With Audrey pressed against me the whole time, I was aware of every movement of her hands, every shift of her hips, and I was glad again that I’d decided on dancing. Most guys my age thought dancing was stupid, but I knew better. For as long as she let me, I’d hold her close and sway together on the dance floor.
We arrived at Hannigan’s, an old red barn that had been converted to a dinner and dance hall. In spite of being in a barn, it wasn’t a country music hall. The parking lot had several bikes in it, and though I felt at home here, I wondered if Audrey would be okay with it.
The moment I shut off the bike, she climbed off and took off her helmet. She looked around the parking lot, taking in the group of biker couples on the far side, talking and laughing loudly. Her eyes roamed the front windows, lined with twinkling lights and flowers. The music could be heard from here—an eighties power ballad.
“I hope this is okay,” I said, still straddling my bike in case she wanted to leave.
She stepped forward and unclasped my helmet. She held my eyes as she pulled it off. “It’s wonderful. I can’t believe this place is so nearby, and I’ve never been. You should know, though, that I’m not a great dancer. All I know how to do is sway back and forth. I might embarrass us both.”
I climbed off my bike and locked up our helmets. I faced her, grabbing both her hands and bringing them to my chest. “Let me lead you.”
Her breath caught in her throat and she nodded. As we walked inside, I kept hold of one of her hands, and didn’t let go as a woman led us to a table in a quiet corner.
We ordered dinner and the server left us, and I could finally ask the question I needed settled. “Why weren’t your parents home tonight? I was going to say hello to them.”
She tipped her head to the side, probably sensing my tension. “Aunt Glory asked them to play cards.”
My knee shook under the table, and I pressed my foot on the floor to stop it. “Did they know you were going out with me?” I couldn’t shake the feeling that if they’d known, they’d have wanted to be there to check me out. I reached for her hand, cradling it in mine, needing that physical connection for this conversation. I needed her to be honest with me. I needed to get this out in the open. I had a reputation. It was going to affect her—affect us. We needed to discuss it.
“They weren’t home when I got there. I was at the dress shop buying this.” She gestured to her dress. “I didn’t know they were at Glory’s until I got home and Valerie told me.”
“So they don’t know you’re with me.”
She tried to pull her hand away, but I held it fast. “I was going to tell them when I got home.”
I nodded, considering it. She’d had nearly two days to tell them, and hadn’t.
“Are you upset?” she asked, her eyes filling with concern.
I swallowed. “A little. I spent a lot of time thinking of what I’d say to them. I’m just thrown, I guess.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry. I should have told them.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked softly.
She hesitated. Then her chin lifted slightly and she straightened her shoulders. Finally, she said, “I’m done letting other people plan my life for me. I’ve let that happen for far too long, and the outcome is never good. It hurts me, and it hurts other people, too. I’m not doing it anymore. I think my parents will be okay with us dating, but it doesn’t matter what they say. I decide for myself.”
I studied her face. I loved the certainty I saw there, and the strength. Part of me wanted to let it go at that. But I couldn’t. “It matters to me.”
She searched my eyes, trying to understand.
“I care what your parents think,” I said. “I don’t want you to lie to them, or to have to sneak around, or to feel like you’re upsetting them. I don’t want that for us.”
She shook her head vehemently. “I’m not sneaking around, Johnny. I’m not hiding this from them. And they’d never forbid me from seeing you. I really was going to tell them.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “I want them to like me. I want their approval.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I get that. I want your mom to like me, so I understand. But I already talked to my dad about you.”
I blinked, surprised. “You did?”
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t tell him we’re seeing each other, but we talked about you. He said he’s known you your whole life, and that you’re sensitive and thoughtful. He likes you.”
Relief flooded me, and I sat back in my chair. I hoped he’d like me just as much when he found out I was dating his daughter. “I like him, too. I always have. What about your mom?”
Audrey bit her lip.
I lifted her hand off the table and kissed the back of it. “It’s no secret to me what people say about me. I own my past. I can’t even explain why I acted the way I did, except to say that I guess back then I had a tendency to ruin things I didn’t feel like I deserved. I’m not the guy moms picture their daughters with. I get it, and it’s my responsibility to show people I’m different now.”
Audrey took a deep breath. “Mama tends to react first and think later. Don’t get me wrong, she’s wonderful, but she worries too much and she holds on too tight.” She grimaced. “I am a little nervous to tell her. I guess that’s why I was waiting until the last minute to tell them about our date. Telling her will require me standing up for myself, and I’m not good at that, so I put it off.”
Her honesty alleviated some of my concern. Even though it wasn’t an ideal answer, it was true, and it was understandable. “I don’t expect your mother to accept me right away. It’s okay if it takes her a little time to see past the things she’s heard about me, and the things I did a long time ago. I’ll put the time in to earn her trust.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
She sat up straight in her chair, a determined look on her face. “It won’t take very long. Mama has a huge heart and she’s going to adore you. Before you know it, she’ll be sending you home with trays of macaroni and cheese.”
I smiled. “Okay. But if she, or anyone else in your life, has doubts or concerns about me, it’s okay. I understand. We’ll work through it because I’m not going anywhere.”
Audrey’s gaze burned into mine, and her lips parted slightly. “I’m not going anywhere, either. No matter what anyone says.”
After that difficult conversation, dinner flew by. We talked about teachers we’d had in common, our favorite foods, and she asked a lot of questions about my mom. “Does she like being a nurse?”
‘Yes,” I said. “It’s a hard job, but she loves it. Not a lot of people like working at the nursing home. It’s pretty thankless. But her patients are special to her.”
She nodded. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life, but I think I might want to be a nurse. I always liked to follow the nurses around Dad’s office and pester them with questions. I don’t want to be a doctor, but being a nurse might suit me.”
“You could talk to my mom. She’d love to answer your questions and tell you stories.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Okay. I want to.”
When our plates were cleared, I held out my hand. “Oh gosh,” she said. “I’ll step all over your feet.”
“That’s why I wore my boots.”
She set her hand in mine and I led her to the dance floor. The light was dim here, twinkle lights and fabric draped around the area. She put her left hand on my shoulder and I held her right. She held herself stiffly, about a foot away from me. I placed my hand on her lower back and brought her closer.
She held her breath. I began to move, starting slow so she could follow my steps. She looked down between our bodies, keeping her eyes on our feet.
“Don’t think,” I said, resting my cheek on the side of her head so she couldn’t try to watch her feet. “Just move.”
“Just move,” she repeated, and I pulled her flush against my body.
“Oh,” she whispered, looking up and meeting my eyes.
Moving by feel now, eyes locked, swaying together, I knew the moment when her fear of stepping on my feet slipped away. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against mine, and her forehead rested on the side of my neck. We moved smoothly, slowly, gently.
One song. Another.
Aware of every place we touched, my blood turned to fire in my veins. I spread my fingers across her back, brushing my thumb against her side. Her fingers curled into my shoulder and she let go of my hand and brought hers to my neck. “Johnny,” she breathed into my ear, “I want to be alone with you.”
Chapter 19
Audrey
Hands trembling, breath short, wanting, wanting, wanting, I climbed on the back of Johnny’s motorcycle. Who knew dancing could be so provocative? Who knew I could feel this way? I was not nervous. I was not questioning what I wanted. I put my arms around his waist, and I knew. I didn’t feel shy. All that mattered was this connection we shared, this eagerness to be close.
I held him tight as he drove us away from the dance hall. As we sped down the road, my dress billowing against my thighs, I noticed his speed would increase, then he’d slow down again, as if he were unable to keep the pace steady, as if something urged him to go faster. Every time he slowed down, I squeezed him tighter, impatient. I didn’t know where we were going, but I knew that Johnny was driving me to our first kiss.
I was surprised when he stopped at yet another barn. This one was not a business, but a small livestock barn on a lovely piece of property on the outskirts of Alden. If you continued up the driveway, there was a farmhouse with windows glowing in the dimming evening light. The pasture around the barn was enclosed with a wood-board horse fence, and a beautiful sorrel quarter horse stood grazing in the grass.
Johnny parked beside the barn and I hopped off the motorcycle. He grabbed my hand, playing with my fingers. “Want to ride a horse?”
I grinned, my excitement at riding a horse warring with my excitement at what his fingers were doing to mine. “Do I ever. I’ve always wanted to go horseback riding.”
“You never have?”
I shook my head. “I went to camp one summer, and the day my group was supposed to ride horses, I got sick. Mama had to come pick me up that evening.”
“Tonight’s your night, then.”
He led me into the barn where he lifted a saddle off the wall. He tucked a saddle blanket under his arm and by the time we made it back outside, the horse had wandered to the fence to greet us.
“This is Timber. He’s Clay’s grandpa’s horse.”
A little nervous, I touched Timber’s nose with a fingertip. It was velvety soft, and when Timber didn’t seem to mind, I ran my palm across his nose, then the side of his face.
“Timber’s really, really old. He won’t run fast. We’ll be lucky if we get a nice trot out of him. Actually, we’ll be lucky if he does more than graze while we’re on his back.”
I laughed, feeling more relaxed. “That’s perfect. I’d have been too nervous to ride a feisty horse.”
Johnny opened the gate, and I kept my eye on Timber in case he tried to escape, but of course he didn’t. We entered the pasture, and I watched as Johnny spread the blanket on Timber’s back. He walked back to the fence and began unbuttoning his nice dress shirt.
I watched his fingers move across the fabric, transfixed. He wore a white T-shirt under his dress shirt. When he was done unbuttoning, he draped it on the fence.
The muscles in his arms bunched and strained as he lifted the saddle and tightened the straps under Timber’s stomach. His T-shirt was tight, and his arms were tan, and my eyes didn’t seem to want to move from his biceps. He turned to me, smiling. “Ready?”
I hesitated, standing there in the pasture with my hands clasped. I could ask for what I wanted. It was safe to tell Johnny what I felt. Still, my throat went dry and I forced a breath in. “Johnny?”
He tilted his head to the side, confusion on his face. “Yeah?”
“I know you planned this night, full of wonderful and exciting things. And you might have had a certain way you wanted it to go, and I’m thankful. I’m excited to ride this horse, I really am, but all I want in this entire world right now, is for you to kiss me.”
His eyes darkened and he stood stock still. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
I glanced at the horse, who stared at us as he chewed. A laugh burst out of me, and Johnny grinned. His face went serious again when he met my eyes. He stalked forward and grabbed my hand. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. I was ready. Please let him believe me.
He squeezed my fingers and took in a strangled breath. And then he led me into the barn.
It was darker in here, but I could still see the expression on his face, the heat in his eyes. The yellow-orange of the sunset poured in through the windows, and dust mites swirled in the light.
Johnny went into a clean, empty horse stall, his fingers loosely holding mine. I wasn’t sure if he held my hand that way because he wanted me to know I could change my mind, or because of the way it drove me absolutely crazy, sending ripples of pleasure up my arm.
At the back of the stall, he faced me. He brought both hands up and cupped my face, his fingers sliding into my hair. His breathing was heavy, and he kept his eyes on mine. I put my hands on his waist, my fingers playing in his belt loops, smoothing over the leather belt, my fingertips brushing his skin under the hem of his shirt.
He made a low sound in the back of his throat, and took a step forward, pressing me into the wall. The length of our bodies touched, and every heartbeat sent waves and waves of fire through my veins. My breath came short as he held the back of my head with one hand and caressed my neck with the other. His hand explored my collarbone, my jaw, my ear. His thumb brushed my bottom lip, and all the while he held my eyes with his.
I lifted my hands, letting them explore the contours of his lower back, his skin hot under my fingers. I pressed them in, pulling him closer, closer, closer. “Johnny,” I said in a rough whisper, pleading with him.
He lowered his head and hovered over my mouth. Restless, I parted my lips and a small, breathy sound escaped me. He responded immediately, pressing his mouth to mine, gently at first, and then with more pressure. One soft kiss, which ignited sparks all over the surface of my skin, and then he pulled away.
He rested his forehead on mine, and I focused on the rough sound of his breathing. That kiss hadn’t sated my hunger at all. It only inflamed it. I licked my lips and brought a hand up between us, holding his neck and pushing his head back to mine. I wanted more. I needed more. He kissed me again, gently, his lips so warm and so soft. Desire pooled in my stomach, and I couldn’t get close enough to him. I whimpered, and for a second I was embarrassed by it, but he groaned and captured my mouth with his again, and this time he gently touched his tongue to my lower lip.
I could no longer feel my feet on the ground, or the horse stall behind my back. I opened my mouth further, and we melted into each other, and this was kissing. This was what I had dreamed of, hoped for, never imagined could even exis
t.
Breathing hard, he removed his hands from me and stepped back. Hands on his hips, he watched my face. I was in awe of the strength of my feelings, both my emotional reaction and my body’s reaction. I put my fingertips to my mouth. My lips still tingled, my stomach still danced, and my heart felt light in my chest. “Kiss me again, Johnny.”
He was on me in a flash, and we were a flurry of limbs and lips and tongues. I never wanted to stop. I never wanted this to end. “We should slow down,” he said against my mouth.
“No,” I said, desperate for more, and grabbed the front of his T-shirt to hold him to me. He obliged, invading my mouth and giving me what I needed. Finally, he took his mouth off mine, and I let him go. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay in this horse stall forever, kissing him.
He rested his cheek against mine, his breath tickling my ear. “Christ, Audrey. That was amazing.”
Acting on instinct, I pressed a kiss to his neck. He gasped and grabbed both sides of my head, kissing me again.
After a moment, laughing, we pulled apart. “Poor Timber is probably very confused,” I said.
“Or asleep,” he added.
We made it outside where Timber stood staring at us. “Look at him,” I said. “He knows.”
Johnny brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “Of course he does. It’s written all over your face.”
I smiled, because it was written all over his, too.
“This’ll be the opposite of the bike,” Johnny said. “You climb up first and then I’ll swing up behind you.”
I put my foot in the stirrup, and for the moment I was alone, high up on the horse, I started to panic. But Johnny joined me up there quickly, and with his legs around my hips, his arms holding the reins and holding me in place, I felt safe. “I like this role reversal,” I said.
He spread a hand over my stomach, which tumbled in response. “I do, too.”
Timber surprised us by immediately walking around the edge of the pasture at a nice pace. “He doesn’t get ridden much these days,” Johnny said. “He’s probably happy for the attention.”
Broken Rebel (Sparrow Sisters Book 2) Page 13
