Autumn Getaway (Seasons of Love) (22 page)

“Of course I knew that,” Sam said with a trace of impatience. “From the start, before I even started really flirting with her. She told me that straight out in our very first conversation, she's not hiding that. There's nothing to hide. Hey—she has a little boy, did your sources tell you that too?”

“Yes. So you know she’s newly divorced, with a young child, and you’re pursuing her anyway?” Marcy asked, surprised.

“So she’s recently divorced,” Sam said. “It’s final. She’s free. Since when do you all get so ruffled by a woman getting divorced? What year are we in, could you remind me? 'Cause it sounds like and feels like 1953.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “Sam. It’s just that… well… you’ve likely met this woman at a very vulnerable time in her life. That's not good. Not for her, or for you.”

“Mom.” Sam stopped moving, forcing her to stop also. He looked down at his mother with a piercing gaze. “I just met her yesterday. We've talked a few times, spent a bit of time together where we enjoyed each other's company, and now shared a dance. I'm not running away and marrying her, for Christ's sake. Why are you all getting on me so hard for this? What do you think I’m going to do to her? Or, should I ask, what do you think she’s going to do to me?”

“Hopefully, just having a one-night stand,” Marcy said flatly. “Because she’s probably not at her emotional best right now. Don't lead her on.”

Sam closed his eyes, shook his head, and sputtered, “I can’t—I don’t—”

“I’m just being honest,” Marcy said. “Look, I didn’t know if you were aware that she was so recently divorced. Now I know you know, so that’s it. That's all I was trying to ascertain. You’re a grown man, Sam. I’m not here to try to get in your way. You’re free to do what you like.”

“Gee, thanks for your permission,” he snapped venomously, and started to walk away.

“Sam.” Marcy grabbed her son’s elbow. He turned back to look at her. “Don’t be angry with me. I was just looking out for you. That’s what mothers do, and brothers too while I'm at it.” She sighed and added, “You’ve been through so much… I just… I was surprised. Because honestly, I haven’t seen you look at a woman the way you’ve been looking at Lydia since…” Her voice trailed off, and she simply shrugged, her dark eyes sad and wistful.

Sam was stunned at how well his mother could still read him. It was true, a woman hadn’t provoked this strong an initial response in him since Chelsea. He felt… he felt like he actually
felt
something for Lydia. He wasn't even sure yet what it was, but his mother had seen that somehow. Her acuity unnerved him. He took a deep breath and exhaled it in a frustrated gust, then bent down to give his mother a kiss on her soft cheek. “I love you, Mom. Thanks for looking out for me. Now leave it alone, okay? Like you said, I’m a big boy now.”

“I know that.” She smiled. “My work here is done.”

“Good to know,” he said. He winked, shot her a quick grin, and walked away.

Lydia was sitting with her friends again, caught up in conversation. Sam didn’t want to interrupt just yet, and his head was still spinning from his mother's words, so he headed to the bar and ordered a drink.

Alec came over to join him. “Hey, little brother. How’s it goin’?”

“What’d you say to Mom about Lydia?” Sam asked sharply, turning on his brother. “And why the hell are you even talking about her, when I very clearly told you to drop it?”

“Whoa! Down, boy.” Alec chuckled. Sam's rancor didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. “I just asked Ryan and Melanie a little bit about her, since you're so obviously besotted with her that you can’t see straight, much less think straight.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam muttered. He speared his older brother with an irate look. “Enough, Alec. Enough. I'm asking you outright now: just leave it alone, will you?”

“Okay, okay. Consider it left,” Alec said jovially. When the bartender finished fixing Sam’s scotch, Alec held his younger brother's wrist and asked the bartender for two shots of tequila. Within a minute, Alec clinked his shot glass to Sam’s, and they knocked back the shots.

“Come back to the table and eat something,” Alec said. “We need to soak up all this booze, we can’t get sloppy. Plus, if you watch the kids for a few minutes, I can ask my wife to dance. I know she’s been waiting for me to. Do me a solid.”

Sam felt the rush of the alcohol whirring through him and knew Alec had a good point; if he kept up at this pace, he'd be too drunk in a very short time. “Sure,” he nodded, but grabbed his scotch before they headed back to their table.

The music had turned upbeat once more, and Sam munched on rolls from the bread basket as he watched people make their way to the dance floor. He saw Donna and Kathryn drag Lydia up with them—her slightly unwilling, all of them laughing, as the three of them started to dance together. Sam could spot them easily in the middle of the crowd. Lydia’s back was to him; he kept his eyes on her mane of copper hair that bobbed in time to the music, and the hypnotic sway of her curvy hips. She was a good dancer. She had a natural feel for the beat, and was sexy as hell, as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t help but stare at her voluptuous ass, moving in time to the music. Then he noticed Donna was watching him watch her friend. Caught, he merely winked at Donna, who smiled widely back at him, obviously not disapproving.

He continued to watch, entertained, as the next song started, an old school hip-hop classic. Melanie yelled in approval, and went over to start dancing with her three college friends. They laughed, shouted at each other, bumped hips—they were having a great time. He enjoyed watching them enjoy themselves.

“Uncle Sam?” His elder niece’s voice intruded upon his visage.

“Yes, Hope?” he answered, looking down at the ten-year-old girl with an open smile. “What can I do for you, my sweet?”

“I’m bored,” she said. She leaned her chin on her hand and sighed.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, weddings can be a little boring sometimes.” He reached over and grabbed one of the crayons the kids had been coloring with. He took a piece of paper from their pile, turned it over to the blank side, and drew a tic-tac-toe board. Then he held the red crayon out to Hope. “You go first.”

She beamed at him, adoring and appreciative, before marking an X in the center square.

* * *

The four college friends danced together for two more songs before the bride went to go boogie down with her new husband.

“I need water,” Donna panted. “I’m sweating here!”

“Me too,” Lydia said, wiping a few beads from her own forehead.

“How about a touchup?” Kathryn asked.

“Let’s go,” Lydia said, and the three of them boogied their way off the dance floor to the ladies’ room.

“Did you see Sam hanging out with his niece at their table?” Donna asked once they were in the bathroom. “
Very
cute.”

“Shhh!” Lydia hissed before whispering, “You never know who’s in a bathroom, you don’t mention names.”

“I looked under the doors, no feet,” Donna said. “We’re alone in here. Jeez, give me some credit.” She rolled her eyes.

Lydia just shook her head and took a powder foundation compact out of her handbag.

“You guys looked great on the dance floor together before. Big time sex vibes. You have some real chemistry,” Donna remarked.

Lydia scowled as she lightly powdered her face.

“I really like him,” Kathryn enthused from Lydia’s other side. She fixed wisps of her long brown hair that had gone askew while dancing. “He's smart, and he's sweet.”

“He’s great,” Donna agreed, reapplying dark wine colored lipstick to her full mouth. “He’s got a sense of humor, he’s nice, he’s easygoing, he’s naturally charming but not in a sleazy way. We totally approve.”

“I thought you guys just wanted me to sleep with him,” Lydia cracked, as she snapped her compact shut. “I didn’t know any of those listed qualities mattered for a one night stand.”

“They don’t,” Donna said airily. “But they’re very nice bonuses. We already established he’s hot. But now, we know you could actually talk to him once you’re done. If you wanted to.”

Lydia snorted derisively and filled in her lips with a pale mauve lipliner pencil.

“Seriously, though,” Kathryn said as she applied fresh eye shadow. She met Lydia's eyes in the mirror. “If you do… go off with him… at some point. Do you want us to come look for you, or leave you be?”

Lydia turned to stare at her friend. The gold flecks in her golden brown eyes seemed ablaze as she sputtered, “What?”

“You heard her,” Donna said. “Don't play dumb. Just tell us, what should we do? Drag you out, or let you stay? We’re just looking out for you.”

“Oh my God,” Lydia moaned. “Seriously, how old are we? Approaching forty, last time I checked. I don’t need chaperones, or nudges. Would you guys stop it already? Please?”

“Hey, you’re our friend, and if things get to a point and you want out, we’re just offering you that out,” Donna said unapologetically. “Besides. We’re boring, old, married ladies. We’re not getting any new action, so we’re living vicariously through you tonight. It’s fun. And! For the record, we’re not pushing forty just yet. We’re only thirty-seven—you aren’t even yet!—which still qualifies us as ‘late thirties’, thank you very much.”

“Whatever happens, happens,” Lydia said. She closed her handbag and added, “I'll see you both inside, I need some fresh air.” Slightly embarrassed from all the attention on her possible interactions with Sam, she turned on her heel and left the ladies’ room. As soon as she rounded the corner, she slammed right into him. His hands went out automatically to steady her, grasping her upper arms. They looked at each other, noticed they wore similar exasperated expressions, and laughed.

“Where you goin’?” he asked.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” she said. “Wanna come with me?”

“You bet.” He grinned. A new spark lit in his eyes. He took her hand. “Let’s go.”

He led her out to the stone veranda out of a side door. There were a few people outside, ignoring the brisk air to smoke cigarettes under the outdoor lights. The sky was dark now, pure black, and tall bright lights were aimed at the garden to illuminate it.

“It got cool out here quick,” he noted. He glanced down at her exposed arms and asked, “Do you want my jacket?”

“No, I'm fine for now,” she said. “But thank you for asking.”

“Let me know if you get cold.” Sam hesitated, pondering their surroundings, before he said, “Let’s go this way.” He looked down at her to check that this was okay, and she nodded with an anticipatory grin and a glint in her eyes. The blood started humming through his veins. He grinned back, then led her across the patio, carefully down the side staircase to the grass below. It was dark there, a small, hidden place at the bottom of the stairs before the expanse of lawn that lay beyond and led to the brightly lit garden.

Lydia stopped; they were still holding hands, causing Sam to stop in his tracks with a jerk. He turned to look at her, brows furrowed in inquiry. Even in the dark, he could make out her features as she stood there, just gazing at him. He stared back at her for a few seconds, smiled warmly, then stepped closer to her. Silent, she took two small steps backwards to lean against the cold stone wall; she pulled him into the shadows with her, her eyes never leaving his, the wordless invitation unmistakable.

Sam went to her without hesitation, wrapping his arms around her before lowering his mouth onto hers. The kiss was slow, sumptuous, sweet. Her mouth opened under his and he touched his tongue to hers, tasting her. He traced his tongue along her bottom lip before he dove in for deeper kisses. A soft sound fluttered from her and nearly undid him. He kissed her deeply, learning her, savoring her. Her hands moved up slowly to his shoulders and he felt her fingers dig into him. His arms tightened around her.

She touched his face as the kisses heated up and their desire grew more intense. Her arms laced around his neck, pulling him closer as she kissed him back, opening to him. He tangled one hand in her hair while the other lowered to her back to press her more tightly against him. His mouth was hungry, taking, searching, and a soft groan rose in his throat.

She broke away, gasping. He leaned his forehead against hers, also breathing a bit heavily. They stood in silence for a moment as they tried to gather their wits.

“Wow,” she finally whispered.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he revealed in a husky whisper.

She smiled as she looked into his eyes and whispered back, “Then do it again.”

He smiled back, leaned in, and brushed his lips against hers once, twice, advancing slowly. Taking his time, he nipped at her lips playfully before kissing her again, a softly powerful kiss. She welcomed him and nestled herself in his arms. Her fingers ran through the waves of his hair as she touched her tongue to his, as she gradually deepened the kisses and pressed herself against him. His hands slid very slowly down her sides, gripping her hips with gentle heat. He pulled her tightly against him once more as they luxuriated in the feel of each other. As the minutes passed, the kisses raged on, and their embrace intensified—wandering hands, demanding lips, whispered words and sighs.

Suddenly he pulled away, almost in alarm. “Wait.” He cocked his head, listening for something, and asked her, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Lydia asked, slightly dazed. All she could hear was her own heartbeat thumping in her ears.

Somewhere close by, a little boy was giggling. “
That
,” Sam said, and turned around. His eyes narrowed as he watched his four-year-old nephew shoot past them to run across the darkened lawn, towards the garden, completely alone. “Dammit,” he muttered, reluctantly releasing Lydia. “I'm so sorry, I'll be right back.” He went after the little boy, breaking into a jog. “Zack!” he called in a strong tone.

The child froze, caught, and turned to face his uncle. “Uncle Sam?” he asked in a small voice. His big blue eyes were wide with dread, knowing he was in trouble.

Sam got to him in a few strides once the boy had stopped running. He crouched down to look his nephew in the eye. “Do your mommy and daddy know you’re out here?” he asked.