Summertime Dream (17 page)

“No room for more than the cherry tomato on my balcony, but I enjoy having the fresh tomatoes.”

For dessert, she served up a big slice of the apple pie she’d made last night when she couldn’t sleep and poured them both a cup of iced tea.

Christopher paused after his first bite. “This is great. Really great.”

She shrugged. “It’s just apple pie. Nothing fancy.”

“It’s great apple pie. It’s not from the restaurant, is it? You made this too.”

“Yes.” Her cheeks burned at his praise over an ordinary apple pie. A lumpy-edged and over-browned one at that.

“Hey, why are you embarrassed? Don’t ever let anyone make you think you can’t cook. This pie’s great. I really enjoyed this lunch. I’m not just saying it to be polite.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She returned his kiss. He was right. She shouldn’t put herself down. He’d enjoyed the simple meal, he enjoyed her cooking, and she’d enjoyed preparing it for him. Those simple things were all that mattered.

After finishing his pie, he leaned back looking out to the river and sighed contentedly. “A man could get used to this. If only I had my fishing gear with me. Wouldn’t this be perfect after working all day, to be able to walk out my back door and escape for an hour or so with a line in the water? To fish any time I wanted without getting in the car and fighting traffic there and back again?”

“Why do you live in the city when you enjoy being outdoors so much? Especially since you work from home? You could live anywhere you wanted.”

“Just easier when I have to travel. I can catch a Saturday here and there up in the mountains to fish or hit the beach for some surf fishing.”

His wistful tone made her wonder if he actually took the time. “I’m not sure what kind of fish are in the river. Joe’s friends might know. I think some of them go fishing.”

“Doesn’t really matter.” He grinned. “Any day spent fishing is a good day, whether you catch anything or not.”

“No one in my family fishes, or I’d lend you a fishing pole. Maybe Baxter has one.”

“I could buy one easily enough, but I have too much work to do here.”

“You need to take some time to relax and enjoy yourself now and then. If you enjoy fishing, you should.”

“I am taking some time to relax.” He cupped her cheek and lowered his mouth to hers. “I am definitely enjoying myself,” he murmured against her lips. “I can’t think of anything I want more than being here, with you.”

She brushed her lips over his, meaning to be light and airy, then back away. But he held her and deepened the kiss, changing everything. A kiss sweet with apple and tea. A kiss rich and lush and full of promise as he gathered her into his arms and laid her back on the blanket. She looked into his intent green eyes and shivered, wanting him with frightening strength.

He leaned over her, propped on one arm, his eyes darkening and thoughtful, tracing his fingertips over her cheek in a soothing caress. Lowering his head, he grazed his lips over hers, teasing and searching, so slow and tender. He cupped her breast, the thin cotton of her T-shirt and bra no barrier to his thumb’s soft strokes.

Oh, so good. Clasping his face between her hands, she investigated the fine scrape of his beard against her palms, the smooth skin of his cheekbones under her fingertips, and best of all his mouth, lips soft, firm, and strong. She sank into the lovely, lazy play, cherishing the slow, tender pleasure here in the shady afternoon heat.

Shifting on the blanket until he lay over her, they aligned body to body, his weight pleasingly heavy, and his arousal riding hard and tempting against her center. Fingers stroking arms, fingers twining with fingers, he didn’t press her for anything more than kisses. But what kisses! Sweet and succulent, teasing licks and nips, deep wet duel of tongues, and butterfly touches scattered over cheeks and throats. At that moment, safe in his arms, lost in his kisses and touch, she’d never wanted anyone, anything more than she did Christopher. His slow gentle way made succumbing to desire so easy.

Oh, yes, she was falling for his kisses. Falling for Christopher. Falling…in love? No, not possible. How could she be falling in love after only a few short days?

Stop
. She was thinking too much, missing out on
being
. She’d worry about everything else later.

Oh, yes, definitely falling.

Fallen.

Chapter Seven

The phone’s ringing pierced through Christopher. Penny barked short and sharp, as if the insistent ring tone wasn’t sufficient interruption. And the phone was out of reach, so he couldn’t just silence the damned thing without leaving Margie’s soft cradling embrace.

The call went into voice mail, and quiet returned, but his peace was broken and reality flooded in. He groaned. He’d let them get carried away again. Christopher reluctantly rolled aside and lifted away to lean on one elbow. At least they still were dressed and buttoned.

Margie gave him a dreamy smile, her eyes sparkling and mouth rosy from their kisses, her hair mussed from his fingers and spread over the blanket.

His mouth went dry and pulse leapt. His already aching cock strained against his zipper. How a girl could look so sweet and hot in a demure flowery shirt and ordinary white shorts…

He stroked her cheek and sucked in a hard breath. He’d made the right decision to stay longer. Unfortunately, no matter that he and his wired body wanted, needed more, right now, he had better make another right decision for her, however unpalatable. He dropped his hand to his side. “I should return that call.”

“You work too hard. It’s Sunday. You should give yourself a break. Take some time for yourself.” She pushed up to sit cross-legged and leisurely finger-combed her hair into a ponytail.

Yeah. You’re right
.
“I did, here, with you, and it was nice.” Nice? That’s all he could manage to say? “Real nice.”

He was hopeless.

But she smiled warmly, as if he’d said all the elusive right words.

They gathered up the picnic things. He laced his hand into hers for the walk back to the house. Penny raced ahead, sniffing every bush as if this was her first visit along the trail.

Yep, he might have to work, but things could be worse. He could have been on his way to LA today and then on to Mohave. But, he was here, holding her hand, and that was good.

Would she like Mohave? What if he’d wholly succumbed to a different impulse and asked her to drop everything and to go there with him? Hard to say, she was such a girly girl—which he really liked about her—but she’d never been camping or fishing. Just because she liked picnics was no guarantee she’d enjoy the backcountry camping conditions, particularly with her bug, bat, and mouse issues.

But…she was so enthusiastic about life, brimming with a cheerful, adventurous, and curious spirit despite her small phobias. She might just be willing to give it a try.

Hadn’t he always pictured bringing a significant other to Mohave with him someday? Kind of always been half jealous of Lloyd and Nate and wished he had someone like JoAnn or Kay interested in sharing his favorite get-away hobbies?

His mind drifted over the women he’d almost been in relationships with. Engaging, intelligent, driven, and all women whose idea of getting away from it all was room service and high-speed internet at a five-star resort.

So, who really was he looking for? He’d thought he needed a woman at ease in his business-focused world. He’d thought he wanted a fishing and camping companion.

But now he’d met Margie. She was smart, feminine, hardworking, and utterly different from either of those ambiguous imaginings. He wanted her as he had never wanted anyone before. He wanted to ignore work, return to the riverside, and lose himself in kissing her, until he couldn’t think of anything but Margie. He wanted to carry her to his room and make love to her until tomorrow. And again.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I don’t think I’ve had a better day in my life,” he blurted.

Her blushing smile was glorious.

Glorious?
Yeah, he had it bad.

What if he’d found the one? What if, after all the poor decisions he’d made in his love life, Margie was the one?

Instead of anxiety at the certain complications, hope surged. Yeah, he’d fallen.

Back at the house, while he listened to his voicemail messages, Margie bustled around the kitchen cleaning up the picnic things. Then she washed Penny’s water bowl and placed it in the drainer as if she were about to leave.

He set down the phone and caught his arm around her. “Don’t go. I’d like the company.” He stroked her cheek. “Please.”

She cupped her hand over his and pressed a warm kiss to his palm. “Okay. I do have one little thing inside I wanted to finish today.”

“No, I don’t want you working. Go on and read, write, or just relax out on the porch. I’ll try to wrap up these calls quickly.”

Attempting to at least partially salvage his enjoyment of the sunny Sunday afternoon, he set up his laptop on the porch. Margie delivered him an iced tea and disappeared back inside. By the time he wrapped up the last email, Margie had long ago finished whatever she’d been working on inside, and was curled up in the big porch rocker engrossed in reading on her tablet.

A cold, wet nose nudged his hand. Penny stared up at him, big brown eyes begging for ear scratches.

Christopher hit save on his document and patted the hyper-affectionate creature, stroking the silky, long-haired ears. He’d enjoyed the dog padding around with them, and she was well-behaved despite her energy. He’d never had a dog. They’d moved too often when he was young and too often lived in apartments. He recalled vague longings for one, probably a normal phase of boyhood.

Penny leaned against his leg, sighing in doggy bliss, pink tongue lolling from her goofy canine grin.

Chuckling to himself, he tried to imagine Penny in his apartment. Coming back to a friendly greeting after a trip instead of an empty place would be nice, but even if pets were allowed in the building, an energetic ball of energy rocketing around those furnishings? Not to mention the shedding, nighttime walks, and needing an on-call pet sitter. No, a dog just wasn’t a good fit for his lifestyle. A dog like Penny needed an attentive owner like Margie, and a roomy home and yard like the Olssons’.

The computer screen darkened as the laptop settled into sleep. He didn’t move to resume his work. Under the quiet afternoon heat, the peace of Margie’s serene focus on her reading, and the soothing rhythm of petting the dog’s soft silky fur, his tension ebbed. For at least this brief time, he could pretend he had another life. One involving more than constant work and running.

A life with contentment.

Contentment eluded him these days. He took pride and pleasure in his work and his business successes, but he couldn’t say the last time he’d been content outside of those two weeks a year at Mohave. Even there, moments of contentment were hard-won in the effort to downshift from work mode to vacation mode and then, all too soon, leave and swing into full-speed work again.

Leaving. Damn. That still loomed ahead.

Focus on now. Ignore next week. Ignore everything but this moment and the contentment you’ve found with Margie.

She
looked up and smiled.

A hot rush of desire gripped him and he shifted in his seat to ease the renewed discomfort. But, oh, yeah, his daydream had its definite attractions. If only LA and Falk’s Bend weren’t so far apart. Margie was special and he didn’t know how to solve this unexpected connection.

“You’re looking very thoughtful.” She nodded at his computer and cell phone. “Problems?”

He shrugged. “No. Just came to a good spot to pause. And your dog is very persistent.”

“She’s not being a pest? She’s an expert at stealth ear-scratching demands.”

A chuckle escaped him. He was still petting her dog. “No, we’re having a good time here. Well, she’s having the better time. She just got me petting her.”

“You’re her new favorite man, I think.” She set aside her tablet. “Want a refill on your tea?” Rising before he could answer, she scooped up his glass.

“Sure, thanks.”

Penny glanced after her departing mistress, and then turned begging eyes back on Christopher.

“Think you’ve got me wrapped around your paw, huh?” He closed the laptop.

Penny’s tail thumped the porch boards.

Margie returned with refilled glasses. Before she could hand off his, Christopher carefully tugged her into his lap, enjoying her startled laugh. Penny whimpered, wiggling with clear intentions to leap and join them in the fun.

“Go lie down, Penny,” Christopher said firmly.

Penny sighed in doggish resignation and stretched out in a patch of sun.

“See, I told you. She even behaves better for you than for Joe.”

Their eyes caught. She had to know what holding her did to him. He wanted more, couldn’t take more, couldn’t promise what a woman like Margie needed. If he had any sense at all, he’d let her go back to her own chair until he came up with a plan. Instead, he took both drinks and set them aside on the table.

She leaned forward and kissed him, teasing a bite to his lower lip, and then a tiny kitten lick.

Time to stop thinking. He sank into her playful and easy kiss. If he only had this short time with her, he better make the most of every moment instead of bemoaning the lack of time. Carefully.

He could dream and this was an excellent dream.

****

A night of tossing and turning left Margie bleary and fully aware of her problem: wanting Christopher.

And working at the house today hadn’t given her the least reprieve from remembering every kiss and touch from yesterday, keeping her wound up, warm, wanting, and oh, so frustrated. Aside from a kiss hello, they’d been cautiously hands-off all day, doggedly focused on emptying the second floor of garbage, but all she could think of was his amazing kisses and
more
. The hunger and heat in his glances suggesting he might be feeling the same only made things worse.

But, of course, he was a gentleman and didn’t give her any excuse to act on her desire.