Loving Lydia (Atlantic Divide) (10 page)

“Sam.” She placed her hand on his chest just above his heart, and he couldn’t hold back the groan that rumbled through him. He felt her tremble and thought he might have frightened her. Like a cold bucket of water, it brought him back to his senses, and he pulled back ready to let her go. She placed her hand on the back of his neck and drew him back in to place a tentative touch of her lips on his.

He shuddered as he tried to control the lust that raged through him, felt her soft breath against his mouth, and simply hauled her close and dived in.

He heard her squeak of surprise, but there was no resistance as he plundered her mouth. Her fingers dug into the back of his head to bring him closer. Her body wriggled tight against his. Her mouth tasted of toothpaste and Lydia, and as he delved deeper, he knew it was never going to be enough.

Trying to adjust his position, he jabbed his elbow against the steering wheel and grunted. He heard her hiss of pain as her leg hit the gear stick.

He took a firm hold of her shoulders and pushed her back into her own seat, staring at her while they both heaved breath in and out of their lungs. He felt he’d just run a marathon as sweat beaded on his top lip. He wiped the back of his hand across it, and then tried to focus on starting the engine. As they fastened their seatbelts, he stared straight ahead because he knew that if he looked at her again, with her kiss-swollen lips and her mussed hair, they were never going to get out of that car tonight. He put the car in gear and pulled back onto the highway.

He risked a quick sideways glance to see if she was okay and noticed her hand flutter over her lips for a moment. “Did I do something wrong?” Her voice was faint.

“Yeah, you breathed.” He gave an impatient huff.

“Lydia, we’re going to go to the club. I’m going to sing, and you’re going to meet some really nice people. Then at the earliest opportunity, we are going to high-tail it out of there and go back to my house where I’m going to make love to you … and I do mean mad, passionate love all night long.” He paused for a moment.

“Okay,” she breathed.

He knew he had to give her a fighting chance. “If you’re going to say no, I’d rather you said it right now before I get myself in any more of a lather.”

“Okay,” she breathed again. Her slender fingers smoothed her dress down over her legs. Her eyes were on him, and he wasn’t sure if he could even make it to the club without dying of need for this woman.

The turn-off came up quicker than he thought. As he drew into the parking lot, Lydia pulled down the sun visor and turned on the small light behind the mirror. She pulled out her little lip gloss and reapplied. He watched as she rubbed her lips together, smoothing the gloss over them. Then she used her fingers to fluff her hair before she turned a bright smile on him.

“I gotta get out of here.” His own breath was choking him as he slammed out the door. As he peered at her through the windshield, she smiled even more. She seemed to enjoy her power. He could see by her deep, green eyes that she was perfectly aware of the effect she had on him, but he had an uneasy feeling that he may be part of an experiment.

He opened the car door for her, and as she stepped out, she moved close and ran one hand across his chest, a flirtatious smile still in place. He grabbed her hand and dragged her inside the building. He was going to give himself a headache if he ground his teeth any more. He was pretty sure she wasn’t aware how close to losing control he was. He was used to young girls practicing their flirting techniques on him and he normally, obligingly, went along. He let them flirt, and he flirted back, aware it was harmless.

Lydia wasn’t a young girl though; she was nearly twenty-four. She’d left home when she was sixteen and married a year later. She had two kids for Christ sake, so why was it that her flirting seemed so innocent and experimental?

It was still relatively quiet yet, so Sam bought Lydia a drink and slid a chair over next to the stage where she could sit. He picked up his guitar and concentrated on tuning it. He glanced up to find her watching him.

*

“Do you play?”

“No.”

“I thought Katie told me you were a rock chick.”

“Did she?” She looked away across the room with a momentary twinge of regret. She shrugged it off and met his eyes. “I used to be. Never a guitar though. Piano.” She smiled at his doubtful look. “From the age of eleven.” His indulgent smile back at her made her think he imagined her playing “chopsticks.” She could play that by the time she’d been learning for two months. She could compose music and write award-winning songs by the time she was fourteen, and she’d already made her fortune by the time she was pregnant with the twins.

That had been part of the problem with her marriage. She’d spent so much time and effort writing in conjunction with Merrick, the lead singer of Greg’s rock band, that by the time they were rich and famous, Greg had run riotously out of control, and she’d realized she was stuck in a marriage that was never going to be easy to get away from.

It was when she found him drunk and drugged up in a hotel room in bed with two long-legged blondes that she’d known it was over. She’d packed her bags right there and then, and it wasn’t until three weeks later that she’d discovered she was pregnant.

She listened, lost in her own memories, as Sam strummed a soulful country tune on his guitar. When she caught his eye, she smiled and shrugged. “I play an evil sax, though.”

She almost laughed at his look of surprise, as though he couldn’t believe that a delicate little woman could play the saxophone. She’d had that response before; she was sure she would have it again. It didn’t worry her. She knew how talented she was.

She didn’t need anyone’s approval these days; she didn’t have to prove herself in any way. Her bank balance was proof enough that she had been a fantastic success. She didn’t need the fame to go with it. She could have told him to Google her and that would have made him reel, but she didn’t need it. She avoided attention at all costs. It would have been nice, though, to see some admiration in his eyes.

The rest of the band started to arrive, seven in total, and Sam pulled Lydia to the stage to introduce her to them. Joel had a sax, and her hands itched to take hold of it. It had been a while since she’d played. It had been impractical to bring her own with her, so she’d left it at home in the UK.

She took a sip of her white wine spritzer as she scanned the room to people watch and realized that the long-legged, black-haired beauty that strode across the room toward the stage was Jack’s partner, Bill. Dressed in black biker leathers and a black T-shirt, she held a bottle of beer in one hand and a black helmet in the other. She seemed as though she owned the place. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Sam.

Lydia’s eyebrows shot up as she watched a huge smile split Bill’s face, her long legs making the hop up onto the stage effortless. She grabbed an armful of Sam and knocked his Stetson backward off his head as she hauled him into a bear hug. She was almost as tall as Sam, and while Lydia watched, she realized that these two would make a striking couple.

Apart from the fact that Bill appeared to be walloping the life out of him with what might have been considered a friendly pat, Sam seemed to be returning the favor, and both of them grinned at each other like idiots.

“Bill, it’s been a while since we saw you here. Off duty tonight?”

Bill’s eyebrows arched wickedly, and her grin was sharp. She leaned forward where Lydia stood at the side of the stage and peered straight at her. Lydia felt the woman’s almost-black eyes delve deep.

“I heard you had a new girlfriend.” Bill spoke to Sam, not taking her eyes off Lydia. “Hurt him and I’ll kick your ass.” Her voice, deep and low, made Lydia take a rapid step back, a small gasp stuck in her throat. With a nervous glance at Sam, she realized he’d been distracted by one of the band. As she tucked her hair behind her ear, Bill jumped down from the stage and stepped closer. Lydia’s heart stumbled as Bill towered over her, at least a good five inches taller than her.

“So, I haven’t seen much of you and your two kids. How have you settled in?” Lydia blinked at the sudden change in Bill. “We sitting here? I guess Sam wants to keep you in range, ’cos when the guys get a load of you, I might have to make a few arrests.”

Bill sniffed inelegantly, leaned toward Lydia, and sniffed again. “That sure is a nice scent you wear. I don’t think I’ve smelled that one before.” She grabbed a chair, swung it around and straddled it, putting her arms on the chair back and her chin on her hands.

Lydia had no idea what to say to this woman. She was stunningly beautiful, yet she acted like a man. No, not quite a man, but more like that stage of long-limbed teenage awkwardness that boys went through.

“What are you thinking, then?” Bill challenged. Lydia hesitated to tell the whole truth.

“I’m thinking you’re so beautiful and wonder why Sam isn’t hooked up with you.”

Bill hooted and slapped the top rung of the chair. With a big stupid grin, her eyes met Lydia’s.

“He’s my cousin, honey. I don’t think it’s legal. Aside from that, I was brought up with that boy, why would I be interested in him.” She leaned in close. “But I heard he’s real interested in you. Be gentle with him. He’s got a soft heart, that one.”

“Why does everyone think I’m going to hurt him?” Bill’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed Lydia for a moment.

“Because Sam’s serious about you. And you are a woman of considerable background and experience.”

“What makes you say that?” Lydia’s voice quavered. She hoped to God Bill hadn’t done any background information on her, but Bill’s attention was drawn to the band starting up. She flicked a glance over at Lydia, raised the bottle to her mouth, and took a long pull. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she smacked her lips appreciatively at the taste of beer and returned her attention to the band.

“You have kids, a failed marriage. You’re experienced. You have that killer tattoo, which I’m hoping you’re going to let me see some time.” Bill gave her a quick, assessing glance. “You’re very young to have gone through that much stuff.”

Lydia thought if only she knew the half of it, she wouldn’t let Sam near her in a million years.

“That makes you a risk. So as I say—hurt him, and I’ll kick your ass.”

Hysteria bubbled up as Lydia thought of the irony of her hurting Sam. She started to laugh and thought she wouldn’t be able to stop as Bill cast her a curious glance.

“You think you’re such a hard-case,” Lydia said, still laughing.

She leaned forward and stared Bill straight in the eye. “You don’t scare me. What scares me is getting hurt myself, and I promise you, the fact that I have two children is foremost in my mind because I can’t afford for them to get hurt either.”

She sat back in her chair and gazed up at Sam on the stage. She thought it might be too late for that.

She felt Bill’s eyes on her for a moment longer as if she just couldn’t understand, and then she huffed again and turned her eyes back to the stage.

He serenaded her. It was as though every song he sang he sang for her, and she reveled in his attention as young women fluttered their eyelashes and tried to make him glance their way. When they’d finished the first set, he hopped down from the stage, took her in his arms, and danced with her to jukebox music, their bodies brushing against each other. It wasn’t easy to hold a conversation as the floor filled with other couples, so Sam simply moved in close.

By the time they were ready to start the second set, the place was packed with cowboys jostling for a place at the bar, and young women competed for standing room in front of the stage.

Joel walked over to Lydia and offered his sax to her.

“We’re going to jazz it up a little. Sam says you can play the sax. You want to join us for a song?” She was desperate to.

“I don’t think so. I won’t know what you’re playing.”

Sam leaned across and kissed her on the lips. “Just jam it, Lydia.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind me playing your saxophone? I’m a little possessive about mine.”

“Hell no,” grinned Joel. “As long as you don’t have anything contagious.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Sam leaned in as she eyed the sax in her hand. He probably thought she was going to be rubbish. Pride brought her head up and she smiled. She could do this. This was what she’d always done best. She allowed Sam to lift her up on stage as the music started, and she barely noticed his hands on her as she stroked the sax. She listened for a few bars, grinned when she recognized one of her own tunes, and then joined in.

The room faded, the noise disappeared, and she stood alone on the stage with nothing but the dark and her music to surround her. Secure in familiarity, she closed her eyes and lost herself to the rhythm.

When she finished, the audience was silent for a long heart beat. Self-conscious, she tucked her hair behind her ear and edged toward the side of the stage. When Sam grabbed her, she almost jumped out of her skin, but his mouth on hers to the uproar of the crowd overwhelmed her senses, and she kissed him back without thought.

“You’re incredible,” he yelled down at her above the noise of the room.

By the time they’d finished the second set, she’d joined in a further two songs and was having the time of her life. She hadn’t played with such freedom and joy for years, and adrenaline pumped through her system.

Throwing back her head, she laughed with sheer exhilaration as Sam pulled her out the club door and bundled her into her sister’s car as fast as he could. As he drove at breakneck speed, she almost climbed into his lap, her seatbelt stretched as far as it would go. She ran her tongue around the shell of his ear and then dipped it in just to make him drool.

“Hurry, Sam.” She squirmed her body up against his arm and thrilled as she felt his growl of frustration.

“Lydia, sweetheart, if you don’t stop that, I’m going to have to pull the car over, and we’re going to get arrested for indecency.” She moved her mouth and nipped his neck just below the ear.

“You can’t stop,” she breathed. “It’s Kate’s car. The gear stick would hurt.” She sucked at his neck. “Just hurry, Sam, hurry.”