Autumn Getaway (Seasons of Love) (8 page)

BOOK: Autumn Getaway (Seasons of Love)
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Alec grabbed his wife’s hand. “Dance with me, darlin’!” He dragged Paige to the open spot of floor towards the front of the lounge and they began to dance. Ryan pulled Melanie with him to follow suit.

Ryan’s cousin, Joseph, and Melanie’s cousin, Mark, moved to the billiard table and began a game of pool. The other three cousins, Jeanette, Anne, and MaryBeth, moved to the couches by the fire to sit and talk. Sam waited at the bar as John fixed him a glass of scotch. Lydia went to the jukebox to check out its song samplings. It was filled with Motown classics, a few Big Band era standards, 60s and 70s classic rock, and a handful of pop tunes from the 80s and 90s. Her eyes scanned the titles.

“Anything good?” Sam’s deep voice came from behind her.

Lydia smiled but didn’t turn, feeling him move to her side. “Yeah, a few, actually. But only if you like older music. It’s mostly classic stuff, not much from the last decade.”

“Fine by me.” He too looked over the selections as he took a sip of his drink, moving a drop closer for a better view—of both the song titles and of her. “So tell me which of these appeal to you.”

“You’re asking me what kind of music I like?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, I’m curious.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out some bills held together by a simple platinum money clip, and retrieved three singles. He handed them to her. “Go on. This gets you six songs. I want to see what you choose. I’m not going to say a word until you’re done. Then I’ll give them a thumbs up or a thumbs down, rate your choices accordingly. What do you say, are you game?”

Lydia smiled, let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I'm game. Okay.” She put the three dollar bills in, then began to look over the list again.

“But you have to tell me the first song you pick, so I know what cluster of songs I’m listening for,” Sam instructed.

“Oh, now there are rules?” Lydia smirked.

He smiled one of his broad, disarming smiles that Lydia found stunning. “Not too many. Just that one.”

She gave a short laugh. “Okay, okay.” She looked at the window of the jukebox again. “What if the songs get mixed up, shuffled in between other songs?”

“You’ll let me know.” Sam took the opportunity to gaze at her profile and discreetly look her body over while she read through the titles. Alec had been right about one thing: she sure had curves, and he liked them.

“Alright, here we go. First song is ‘I Want You Back/ABC’ by the Jackson 5, so your brother and his wife can keep dancing.” Lydia pressed the buttons to register her initial choice.

“Nice,” Sam said approvingly. “Now pick your other five. They don’t all have to be upbeat songs—Alec didn’t come here to dance, you know, he came here to drink.”

Lydia laughed. “Okay. Not all party songs. Just good ones. Got it.” She looked at him sideways and said in a teasing voice, “Well, go on, get outta here. You can’t see what I pick, remember?”

This time it was Sam who laughed. “Ahhh, alright. Would you rather sit at the bar, or on those couches by the fire?”

She realized he was asking because he wanted her to join him when she was done. Before she let herself think too hard, she said, “The bar is fine. I’m afraid if I sit in those cozy chairs by the fire I’ll fall asleep.”

He nodded. “I’ll meet you there, then.” His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds before he walked over to the bar and sat on the stool second from the right.

Lydia tried to choose the rest of her songs, but the song titles swam in front of her, could have been printed in another language for all they meant right then. Just standing close to Sam had her head spinning, and she knew she couldn't only blame the wine. Sam was a very appealing man, there was no denying that. He was certainly her type, back when she used to have a type: tall, dark, and friendly. And he certainly seemed to keep coming around to her. Was he just being sociable, since it seemed she was the only single woman there close to his age; or… she hadn’t been hit on in so long, she was unsure. She knew that, for her part, she hadn’t been flirting back, had just been herself… or at least she didn’t
think
she’d been flirting…

She closed her eyes. The music, the sounds of people laughing and talking permeated her mind.
I’m here to have a
good time,
she reminded herself.
I’m here to relax a little bit, unwind. There is no harm in just sitting and talking to a nice guy. Chill out, Lydia, you jerk.

She made herself concentrate and picked five more songs before taking a deep breath, exhaling it slowly, and heading to the bar. Sam was chatting with the bartender. He smiled as she approached. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled back, amazed at the little flip her stomach did. God, he had a killer smile. She took the seat to Sam’s right, at the end of the bar.

“Can I get you something?” John asked her.

“I shouldn't…”

Sam merely looked at her, his expression neutral.

Ah, the hell with it
, she decided.
I'll nurse it.
“Why not. A glass of Merlot, please.”

“Coming right up.” John smiled at her and walked to the other end of the bar.

The Jackson 5 song Lydia had chosen came blaring out of the jukebox.

“Ohhh yeaaah!” Alec cheered in approval, grabbing Paige by the hand for another dance and giving her a spin. Ryan and Melanie laughed at Alec’s exuberance and kept dancing as well. Sam and Lydia chuckled as they watched the two couples enjoy themselves.

“See? I did a good thing,” Lydia said to Sam.

Sam turned back to her, smiling. “Yes, you did. Point to you, Miss…” He laughed. “God, I'm sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Powell. Lydia Powell.”

“Great. My name is Sam Forrester, by the way.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You know?”

“I figured out at dinner that you were Alec’s brother. Melanie told me earlier today about the connection between the Selbys and the Forresters, that you’re like family to each other. So when I heard Zack call you ‘Uncle Sam’, it quickly explained why you were sitting on that end of the table, with Paige and Alec and their kids.”

The corners of Sam’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “They’re great kids,” he said, his affection obvious. “I love them, I love being with them. They’re fun.”

“That’s sweet. But of course you can think they’re fun, they’re not yours,” Lydia quipped with a grin. “You get to give them back when they start to throw a fit or misbehave.”

“True, true. But I love ‘em anyway.”

John brought over a large glass of deep red wine and set it down in front of Lydia. Before she could even reach for her handbag, Sam handed John a twenty dollar bill.

“You don’t have to—” Lydia started to protest. John was already walking away from them.

“What, I can’t buy you a drink?” Sam asked, his brow creasing slightly. “Come on, indulge me.”

Lydia smiled and said graciously, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He studied her as she took a small sip from her glass. “You don’t like people to do things for you, do you? Not even little things.”

She felt her brows furrow as she considered his intuitive question. She carefully set the wine glass back down on the bar. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then what would you say it is?” he asked, leaning a bit closer to be heard over the loud music. His dark eyes searched her face.

“I, um…” She pressed her lips together and slowly stroked the stem of the glass with her fingertip. “I’d say I’m not really
used
to people doing things for me. Even the little things. That would be more accurate.”

Before Sam could answer her, Alec came up behind him. He laid both hands on his younger brother’s shoulders, smiling from ear to ear. “Sammy!” Alec exclaimed. He looked over at Lydia. “Ah… Lydia, right? The college roommate?”

“That’s me,” Lydia confirmed.

“Alec Forrester,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. “I don’t think we were officially introduced. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she said as she shook his hand. She could see a resemblance between him and Sam—similar build, tall and broad shouldered, same full head of wavy dark hair. But Alec’s eyes were green, and Sam’s eyes were a dark, warm shade of brown; Alec’s light eyes seemed somehow colder in comparison. And he had a nice smile, but not nearly as breathtaking as Sam’s. At least, it didn’t affect her in the same way that Sam’s smile did.

“Keeping my little brother company? I appreciate it,” Alec said to her. He wrapped an arm around Sam’s neck affectionately and gave his sibling a squeeze.

Sam gave a small grin, but discreetly shot Alec a cautionary look.

“Young man!” Alec exclaimed. “I owe you a birthday drink. I know I’m a week late, but better late than never.”

“Hey, I’ll take it,” Sam said as John approached them.

“Another round of whatever my brother’s drinking, please,” Alec said. He peered down into Sam’s almost empty glass. “Let me guess. Scotch. Macallan? Twelve year?”

“He knows you well,” John grinned at Sam.

“Who do you think introduced him to the stuff?” Alec boomed proudly. “That’s what big brothers are for! I’ll have one, and you know what, so will the groom. Make it three, John.”

“Your birthday was last week?” Lydia asked Sam.

Sam nodded. “Yup. The ninth.”

“Well, happy belated birthday,” she said with a smile.

He smiled back. “Thanks.”

“So how old are you now?” she asked.

“He’s but a babe in the woods,” Alec said dramatically.

“Just turned thirty-five,” Sam said to Lydia. Over his shoulder, he said to his brother, “I’m getting up there, huh?”

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll always be older than you. Again, that’s what big brothers are for,” Alec proclaimed with a jaunty grin.

Lydia couldn’t help but chortle. “You’re younger than me.”

“I am?” Sam asked, his eyes widening a drop. “By how much?”

“I’ll be thirty-seven in December,” she said.

“You’re my age, then,” Alec said, watching John bring over three glasses of golden whisky. “Yeah, makes sense, you’re Melanie’s college roommate, she’s the same age as Ryan and me.”

“I thought Melanie was a bit younger than Ryan for some reason,” Sam said.

“Probably because she looks so fantastic,” Lydia said earnestly.

“Hey, so do you, Lydia!” Alec said. He turned to look at her more closely, not bothering to hide his inspection. “You’re a very attractive woman. I’m not hitting on you, of course, I can say this safely because I’m very married and very much in love with my very beautiful wife.”

“I think you can say it because you’ve been enjoying very many beverages,” Lydia said, laughing. “I wasn't fishing for compliments—”

“But it’s the truth,” Alec continued, undeterred. He openly stared at her, scrutinizing. “You have beautiful skin. Not a line on your face—you must stay out of the sun, smart. Truly gorgeous eyes, gotta say. And your hair! That color is striking. So, hey—it’s not just the bride, you look fantastic too. You don’t look your age, that’s for sure. I would've taken you for thirty, thirty-one tops.”

Lydia blushed and laughed softly, caught off guard and slightly uncomfortable with the unexpected assessment. “Well, thank you very much.”

“I mean it! All of it! Don’t you agree with me, Sam?” Alec said, turning to his brother.

“I agree with every word,” Sam said quietly, his eyes intent on Lydia’s face. “Unequivocally. Now, Alec?” He turned to look at his brother. His voice was even, but the intent unmistakable as he said, “Why don’t you be a good best man and bring Ryan that drink?”

“Ah! Yes, a good idea.” Alec picked up a glass of Scotch in each hand, and nodded in deference to Lydia. “An absolute pleasure to meet you, Lydia.”

“Likewise.” She smiled.

“Happy birthday, brother,” Alec said, and, realizing he didn’t have a free hand, leaned in quickly and gave Sam a loud smack of a kiss on his forehead. Sam wiped his forehead and laughed as Alec sauntered off.

“He’s a character,” Lydia noted with a smile.

“Always has been,” Sam said.

“And quite drunk, yes?”

“Oh yeah, he’ll be hurting tomorrow,” Sam agreed.

“I bet.” Lydia lifted her wine glass to her lips.

“But he was right.” Sam said it so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“About your being strikingly beautiful,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “You are. I sure think you are.”

She took a long sip of her wine, raised her eyebrows, and pressed her lips together to squelch a bashful smile.

“I should’ve been the one to tell you that first,” he said. He grinned, but his voice was still quiet and his gaze intense. “He beat me to it, what can I say?”

She felt her stomach do the teenager-like flip again and ignored it. A slow flush crept into her cheeks.

His grin became slightly repentant. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I am.”

“You’re apologizing for paying me a lovely compliment? Don’t,” she said, regaining herself. “What I should have said was ‘thank you’.”

The song changed on the jukebox; “Mercy Mercy Me” by Marvin Gaye came streaming out of the speakers.

“Ah, your second selection!” Sam said, grateful for the timing. “Marvin was a master. Good choice.”

“Glad you approve,” Lydia said, equally glad for the distraction.

“That’s two for two so far,” Sam said. “So far, so good, Ms. Powell.”

She grinned. “You really love music, huh?”

“I sure do. I kind of live on it.” Sam said. “When I’m running, when I’m working—
especially
when I’m working—I’m pretty much plugged into my iPod a lot of the time that I’m awake. I have so much music on there, and I’ve grown so attached to it, that I actually have a backup iPod, at the ready, just in case something ever happened to the main one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” He grinned sheepishly. “It’s one of my little quirks. Or indulgences, depending on how you choose to look at it.”

“I love music too, but two iPods, just because? That’s pretty hardcore,” she said. “Wait. If you have all your music already burned onto your computer, isn’t it all safely stored there? I mean, you could buy a new iPod
after
something actually happened to it, right? And then download everything you have onto a new one?”

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