by Amber Kelly
He stares into my eyes for a few beats, and then he clears his throat and starts us moving again.
“We should probably head back before …” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Shh, do you hear that?” Foster asks as he stops and faces me.
“What?” I ask as I look around and try to see what he’s talking about.
“The music,” he says.
Confused, I concentrate, but I don’t hear a thing.
“Dance with me,” Foster says as he extends his hand.
I look down at it and whisper, “I don’t hear any music.”
His mouth comes to my ear, and he says, “Are you sure? It’s loud and clear.”
“What is?” I ask.
“The mountains are playing us a melody. Close your eyes and listen.”
I do as he instructed, and as soon as my eyes are closed, I can hear the breeze whistling through the branches of the trees. Off in the distance, the sound of the river rushing is accompanied by the howls of the wolves that call the mountains their home.
I feel his arm come around me, and he lays a warm hand on my lower back and pulls me into him until we’re chest to chest. I can feel his hard body against mine, and I surrender as he starts to lead.
We dance to the sounds of the night.
At some point, I loop my arms around his neck and lay my head on his shoulder. My hands find the nape of his neck, and I thread my fingers into his thick hair. It feels good to be in the arms of a man. A real man. It’s been so long that my body begins to tremble against him. I know he has to feel my reaction, but he doesn’t say a word. He just continues to hold me tight as he sways us.
He presses his lips to my forehead, and I open my eyes and look up at him. His eyes are ablaze and tell me that he feels it too—this pull.
Screw it.
I bear up onto my tiptoes and bring my nose to his.
“To hell with wading in the shallow end,” I mutter.
“What?” he asks breathlessly.
“Never mind,” I say, and then I press my lips to his.
Caught by surprise, he steps back to take my weight as I practically climb his body. His lips part, and my tongue finds his. He groans as I suck his tongue into my mouth hard. He lets me play for a few seconds before he takes over the kiss and starts walking us until my back is against one of the trees. I wrap my legs around his hips, and he lifts me and presses me against the cool bark.
And just like that, I dive right into the deep end again.
Turns out, I have a strong will, but a weak won’t.
Foster
Her sweet mouth tastes better than I imagined, and as soon as her lips meet mine, the tiny thread of control I was holding on to around her snaps.
I was trying to be the gentleman she thought I was, the one she wants, but I’m not a gentleman. I’m a man with only so much self-control, and my desire for her has been building for so long. Years, if I’m honest.
I brace her against one of the apple trees, and I feed my hands under her and lift until she is where I need her. Our mouths continue to wrestle as she begins to rotate her hips. Grinding into my hardness, which is entirely on board with stripping her naked and plunging inside her right here.
I break the kiss, and her head falls back against the trunk, exposing her neck. I lick and nip my way from her jaw to the hollow of her throat, and she whimpers when I reach the top of her tee. I hoist her up further, so I can kiss the swell of her breasts, but she cries out, stopping my descent.
I immediately step back with her still in my arms, cradling her to my body.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She tucks her face into my neck, and I can barely make out her mumbled reply.
“Yes, but I think there’s a sharp place on the tree.”
Geezus.
I don’t even let her finish her reply before I drop her to her feet and turn her around. I tug her tee from her jeans and examine her back. Just above her bra line, between her shoulder blades, is a bright red scratch about an inch and a half long.
“Shit, Sonia, I’m sorry,” I say when I see what I caused.
“It’s okay,” she assures me.
“No, it’s not. You’re hurt,” I say.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re cut. I shouldn’t have had you up against a damn tree like a teenager in heat,” I growl.
“I wasn’t exactly complaining.” She looks over her shoulder at me and admits, “I liked it.”
I feel her words like a physical touch, and as much as I want to lie down right here and pull her on top of me, I can’t do that.
I close my eyes and calm my body. I press a gentle kiss to the scrape, and then I lower the hem of her shirt.
She turns in my arms to face me.
I rest my forehead on hers and wrap my arms around her.
“We should get back before they realize we’re missing,” I say.
She lets out a laugh. “Are you kidding? Us walking off together is all they’ve been talking about since we disappeared in the trees.”
“Probably,” I agree.
“Are we still on for the playdate tomorrow?” she asks, her question dripping with insecurity.
“Fuck yeah,” I say before taking her mouth for one more deep kiss so she knows there is nothing I’d rather do tomorrow than spend the evening with her.
We return to curious eyes and settle back in our spot with the puppies.
All eyes are either on us or trying to look anywhere but at us.
Elle is gesturing silently to Sonia, and she reaches up to her head, pulls a thin branch from her hair, and quickly tosses it to the side. At the same time, Walker chuckles from the other side of his wife.
“It’s about time you came back,” Beau huffs as he stands and looks in our direction.
“Sorry, buddy,” I offer.
“Daddy thought you guys got lost in the dark and we were going to have to go help you instead of watching Casper!”
My eyes cut to an amused Myer.
“We did get lost for a minute, but I was able to find our way back,” I tell him.
“Whew, thank goodness,” Beau says before he lies back down with Charlotte.
Payne starts movie number two, and I couldn’t tell you what a moment of it is about because all I can focus on is the woman beside me.
By the time our second feature ends, most of the girls and Beau have all fallen asleep.
“Wait, he doesn’t get to stay alive? He just gets to dance once, and bam, he’s a ghost again?” Truett asks as the credits roll.
“Bullshit, right?” Walker agrees.
“Why do people let their kids watch this? It’s sad,” Truett adds.
I look back at my brother, and the expression on his face is comical. He’s pissed on Casper’s behalf.
Sonia stirs beside me. “Is it over?” she asks, lifting her head from my chest.
“Yes.”
She blinks her eyes open and squints as Payne flips the switch to the lampposts, and the area illuminates.
“Ladies and gents, that concludes our show for the evening. Please leave your pool pods and coolers where they are. If you don’t mind, please place your blankets and pillows in the blue bin and your Bluetooth speaker in the basket on the table beside it.”
Everyone begins to get up and does as asked.
“This was a lot of fun, Payne and Charlotte,” Sonia praises as she returns our items while I wrangle the puppies.
Charlotte grins at her. “I bet it was,” she says.
Sonia shakes her head and walks back to us. “Come on, George. Mom’s tired.”
The little one takes off as I release my hold on her and practically leaps up into Sonia’s arms.
“We’ll see you boys tomorrow,” she says.
“Tomorrow,” I agree.
She turns and walks to Elle and Walker. Walker takes George from her, and she and Elle walk arm in arm to the parking area with Walker on their heels.
<
br /> I feel a hand clasp my shoulder.
“I’d ask how your night was, but the goofy grin on your face says it all,” Truett says as he, too, watches them get into Walker’s truck.
“You need a ride home?” I ask him.
“Sure do.”
“Here.” I hand him two small hunter-green baggies. “Grab your nephew and his girlfriend’s leavings, and I’ll go warm the truck up,” I tell him.
“What are these?”
“Poop bags.”
He wrinkles his nose. “You want me to pick up their poop?”
“Yep.”
“I’ve got to get my own truck,” I hear him mumble as he stomps off.
Sonia
I feel lousy, rushing Edith home from church and taking off so fast. I usually come in and have lunch and chat for a bit before I leave, but today, all I can think about is getting home, picking up George, and heading for the park.
I race into my apartment, and I do a quick change from my dress to a pair of jeans and a chocolate-brown off-the-shoulder sweater. I pull on my dark brown cowgirl boots.
I fish a thermal-insulated cooler backpack from the back of my pantry and load it with paper products, a couple of ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches, chips, a bag of grapes, a couple of bottles of water, some puppy kibble, and a few chicken treats. Then, George and I head out to meet the boys.
When I turn into the parking lot, I see Foster’s truck is already here, so I pull up next to him. I put on George’s new pink harness vest and hook the retractable leash to it.
“Ready to go see our guys?” I ask her as I pick her up from her booster seat and hop out of the car.
I fetch the backpack from the backseat and go in search of them.
We find Foster and Sue on the soccer field. Foster is in jeans and a black thermal and boots. His thick, wavy hair looks like he hopped out of the shower, ran his hands through it a few times, and walked out the door.
He’s throwing a tennis ball, and Sue is chasing it down, but he hasn’t quite gotten the retrieving part down, so Foster follows, picks the ball back up, and tosses it again as Sue barks and takes off after it.
George spots the fun and starts impatiently pulling me in their direction.
“There they are,” Foster calls to Sue as we approach.
Sue runs up and starts jumping at my feet. I reach down and pet him, and he trots off to say hello to George.
I release her from the leash, and the two of them run off together and roll around on the grass.
Foster walks over to me and places a quick kiss on my lips before relieving me of the backpack. Then, he takes my hand and leads me to a shady spot under a tree off to the side of the field, where he has a blanket spread out with a cooler.
We sit together, facing the place where the puppies are playing.
“It’s crazy how much I love her already,” I tell him.
“I’m pretty attached to Sue too. The rascal has managed to end up out of his crate and in bed beside me every night this week,” he confesses.
“Oh no, you’ll never get him sleeping in his crate again.”
“I know. I’m not supposed to feed him from the table either, but he and I share a plate of scrambled eggs every morning and last night I even fried us up a steak for dinner.”
I look at him with my mouth open in shock.
“And you thought I was the one who was going to spoil George,” I accuse.
He shrugs. “I know. I’m a sucker.”
I smile. “I guess there are worse things a man can be than a pushover puppy dad.”
His hand finds mine on the blanket, and he threads our fingers together. We sit and watch the pups chase each other.
“Should we join them? I read the sign when we walked up, and it said all dogs are to remain on a leash while inside the park,” I inform him.
“I think we’re safe. I haven’t seen any police patrolling. Besides, it’s not like those two monsters are going to chase down a jogger and knock them on their ass or start humping their leg or anything. They might lick their ankles to death, but that’s about it.”
Smart-ass.
We spend the afternoon soaking up the sunshine, eating our sandwiches, playing with George and Sue, and talking about all the things. He’s genuinely interested in everything about me. He asks about work, my family, and even my future goals.
“I got my divorce papers in the mail this week, and I signed and returned them. So, as of the end of this month, I’ll legally be a single woman,” I tell him.
“I filed as well. Wendy says she signed and dropped them in the mail. If she’s telling the truth, which is a big if, we should be officially divorced by the end of the year.”
“Look at us, doing grown-up stuff,” I say.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s like I’ve been in a holding pattern for almost a year. Not single, but not married anymore. I hate the limbo.”
“Does that mean you’re available for a second date?” he asks.
“I thought we were currently on our second date.”
He smiles. “Third, then?”
“Hmm.” I tap my chin. “We’ll have to see how the rest of this one goes before I commit to anything,” I tease.
“Challenge accepted,” he declares, and then he cups my face and brings my lips to his.
I open to him, and he deepens the kiss as he goes to his back on the blanket. I follow him down, and he feeds a knee between my legs, so I’m flush on top of him, chest to chest.
His arms come around me and hold me tight to him.
He breaks the kiss, and we are nose to nose.
“How’s it going so far?” he asks against my mouth.
“So-so,” I answer.
He grins.
One minute, I’m on top, and the next, he has me flipped to my back. He comes over me, and he grazes my earlobe with his teeth.
Oh, I like that.
I moan my approval.
“And now?” he whispers in my ear.
“Getting better,” I answer.
He brings his mouth back to mine and kisses me again. This kiss is different from before. It’s not soft or sweet. It’s demanding and needy, and I feel it all the way to my toes.
I lace my hands in his hair and hold on.
I don’t think anyone has ever kissed me so thoroughly, and here we are, in a public park, in the middle of the day, and Foster has my body on fire.
“And now?” he asks as he lifts his head to look into my eyes.
“I think a third date is in order,” I admit.
“Damn right it is,” he says.
Then, he rolls over and sits up. He helps me up, and then he pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. I feel his chin fall to my shoulder, and his cheek nestles into mine.
“The kids are going to eat that frog,” he says as we watch them pouncing around, chasing the frog that is leaping across the field.
“We should probably intervene,” I say.
He sighs. “Yep.”
I stand and reach down to help him up, and we take off running after them, shouting the whole way.
Foster
We need to talk.
I read the text from Wendy and press Delete. I wonder what it is this time.
Did her car break down again? Does she need more money this month? Is the water heater out?
Whatever it is, she’ll have to deal with it herself. I’m trying to get the silo clean for my date with Sonia tonight. Or as clean as I can in the hour I have. I’m not a complete slob, but I’m not exactly a great housekeeper. I don’t leave dirty dishes sitting around, and I keep the toilet clean and take out the trash, but I usually come in and drop my muddy boots on the floor, and most of my clothes come out of the dryer and sit in a pile in the chair in the living room until I wear them again.
She’s coming over, so we can make dinner together, and I don’t want her to think I’m unable to run a vacuum.
Sue hides
under the kitchen table while I furiously straighten up. Once the house is reasonably tidy, I go outside and fetch a couple of bundles of firewood and pile them on the stone hearth.
I take a shower and change into a pair of well-worn jeans and a white V-neck tee.
I hear her car pull up as I toss a few logs into the fireplace and top them with kindling. I manage to get the fire started before I hear her footfalls on the porch, and then I open the door to greet her.
Her arms are loaded down with grocery bags. I relieve her of them and walk them to the island.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get George,” she says, and I catch her before she makes it back out the door.
“Hi,” I say and lay a kiss on her lips.
“Hi yourself.”
“You sit down and make yourself comfortable. I’ll go fetch George,” I tell her as I guide her to the couch in front of the fire.
The weather took a turn the past few days, and the temperatures have been falling into the freezing numbers at night.
I slip on my moccasins that are by the door and run out to her car. George has her paws up on the dash, looking out the windshield and tapping her displeasure at being left behind.
I open the door, and she launches toward me. I can barely get the door shut as she claws at my chest, trying to get to my face to lick her thank-you.
“I missed you too, baby dog,” I tell her as I carry her into the warmth of the silo.
I set her down, and she runs to Sonia and starts jumping up and down.
“Settle down, baby. Mom’s right here. We have got to work on your separation anxiety.”
“I heard doodles tend to have that as puppies,” I tell her.
“She definitely does.”
Sue decides to bark at that moment, and George redirects her attention from Sonia to her buddy. She gallops toward the bathroom door and starts scratching at it.
“You fickle woman,” Sonia calls after her.
I walk over and open the door, and she goes in and starts pawing at Sue, who is curled up on the cool tiles, gnawing on a teething bone. I toss a second down for her, and she lies beside him and sniffs it. Sue stops what he’s doing and paws at the bone in front of her until she starts chewing it. Then, he returns to his.
