“You might want to put that in the freezer before I jump you.”
She gasped out a laugh, but he wasn’t kidding, sweeping in the door and pulling her into his arms. Her knees went weak as he kissed her with a hungry intensity.
“I missed you,” he said when he finally came up for air. “And you should always dress like this. Always.”
“Let me put the ice cream away,” she said, slightly breathless.
“Move fast.”
She found him sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned, his shirt off but his jeans still on, flicking through her House and Garden magazine.
“You running low on entertainment?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
“No.” She reached for the magazine.
He gave her a curious look and tweaked it out of her reach. “Is this yours?”
“Yes.”
“It’s House and Garden.”
“So?”
He looked bemused. “You live out of a suitcase. You’re a gypsy.”
“It doesn’t mean I can’t read glossy magazines. I like the pretty pictures.”
She yanked the magazine from his hand and slid it under the bed, tugging the skirt into place. When she turned around, Tyler was crowding her. She thought he was moving in to kiss her. Instead he dropped to one knee and lifted the skirt of the bed.
“Tyler. Have you ever heard of privacy?”
He ignored her, sliding a stack of glossy magazines out from beneath the bed.
“Vogue Living, Belle Maison, House Beautiful—flown in from the U.S., no less. Better Homes and Gardens, Elle Decor, Country Living…” A quizzical smile played on his lips.
Ally crossed her arms over her breasts. “What?”
“This is a bit of a dirty little secret, isn’t it?”
“They’re magazines. I told you, I like the glossy pictures. I find them relaxing.”
“They’re home decorating magazines. Full of glossy pictures of other people’s homes.”
She used the side of her foot to shove the stack back where she’d had it. “I don’t see what the big fuss is.”
“You don’t think there’s any irony in a woman who scoffs at possessions and has no home of her own being addicted to homemaker magazines?”
Ally pressed her lips together, feeling more than a little exposed. “It’s not an addiction,” she muttered.
“How many do you read a month?”
She shrugged.
“Five? Ten? Twenty?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Most of them come to me on subscription. I never really keep track.”
“You subscribe?” He laughed incredulously.
“I really don’t see what’s so amusing.”
She tried to march from the room but he hooked an arm around her waist and swung her toward the bed. She landed on her back and Tyler was on top of her in seconds. She tried to wrestle her way out from under him, but he just grinned down at her.
“Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not!” She heard the echo of her own strident tone and winced. She forced herself to meet his eyes. “They’re just magazines.”
“Okay. If you say so.” But he looked very pleased about something.
Before she could question him, he ducked his head and used his teeth to pull her tank top down. When he’d exposed her left breast, he kissed his way back up the curve and pulled her nipple into his mouth.
“Did I mention that I missed you?” he said as he switched to her right breast.
After they’d messed up her nice clean sheets, she donned a robe and went to scoop some of their favorite treat.
“I meant to say, good choice on the flavors,” she called.
He’d stopped at Trampoline and bought tubs of Peanut Nutter and Violet Rumble, the second being very high on her list of favorites thanks to its chunks of crunchy sponge toffee.
“I remember you saying you liked the Peanut Nutter,” he said from close behind her and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You need a bell, like Mr. Whiskers.”
“Any suggestions on where I should hang it?” He slid his arms around her waist.
“I have a few ideas.”
She fed him a spoonful of ice cream over her shoulder, then concentrated on filling their bowls.
He let her go so she could lead him into the living room to eat on the couch. He stopped in his tracks when he entered the room.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I rescued it,” she said.
He frowned, walking closer to the table. She watched as he rubbed the scarred rim with his thumb.
“I was thinking that maybe you could repair it.” She couldn’t get a read on him, couldn’t tell if he was upset or annoyed or grateful.
“It’d take a miracle.”
She joined him beside the table. “But you could do it, couldn’t you? You could make it beautiful again.”
He hesitated a moment, then he put down his bowl and bent so that his eyes were on a level with the surface. He moved around the table, inspecting it closely, running his hands over the various gouges and pits. Then he crouched lower and ran his hands up and down the legs. Finally he stood and collected his ice cream. “I could do it.”
“Do you want to?”
His gaze returned to the table for a beat. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”
She slid her arm around his waist.
“Thanks for rescuing it for me.”
There was so much warmth in his eyes, it scared her. He was watching her closely, so she forced a smile.
“Better eat, it’s melting.” She focused on her own bowl, and after a few seconds he did the same.
Moment by moment, remember?
She joined Tyler on the couch, feeling the warmth of his body alongside hers as she sank into the cushions. He smiled at her, a little distracted, and she knew he was thinking about how he was going to fix the table. Pushing her doubts away, she rested her head on his shoulder and dug into her dessert.
This, right now, was a great moment, and she was determined to enjoy it.
THE FOLLOWING DAY, TYLER waited until Ally filed her column at midday before telling her to put on her swimsuit.
“Why?”
“There’s a place on the river I want to check out. Jon and I used to go there as kids. I thought we could take a picnic.”
“A picnic sounds nice.”
“That’s the general idea. I figured you deserved a break.”
“Me? You’re the one with the double workload.”
“But he’s my father.”
She frowned but didn’t say anything. He followed her to the bedroom and watched as she flipped open her suitcase.
He’d noticed before that while she’d unpacked most of her clothes, she kept a few things in the case still, things she didn’t need every day. As though she was prepared to leave at the drop of a hat and wanted to ensure she had a head start on packing.
“I didn’t even know there was a river around here,” she said as she rummaged.
He tapped the side of his nose. “Local boy. Secret knowledge.”
“So, local boy, is this a bikini kind of place or a one-piece kind of place?”
“Definitely bikini,” he said without hesitation.
She gave him a dry look.
He put on his best innocent face. “What?”
“I’m not sure you’re the best person to take advice from on this subject.”
“With my hand on my heart, no one is going to notice what you wear except me. And I’ve always been a bikini man.”
“I bet you have.”
He was already wearing a black tank top and a pair of old jeans he’d hacked off at the knees and he leaned his shoulder against the door frame as Ally pulled a bright aqua suit from her suitcase.
“You want me to help you on with that?” he asked, pushing away from the door frame and taking a step toward her.
She laughed. “Anyone would think you hadn’t gotten lucky this mornin
g.”
“It’s your fault for being so sexy.”
She made a face at his compliment and he closed the remaining distance between them to take her into his arms.
“You don’t think you’re sexy?”
“Marilyn Monroe was sexy. Monica Bellucci is sexy. I’m…cute. At best.”
“You’re sexy. Trust me.”
He kissed her, and when things started to get interesting, she slipped from his grasp.
“We’re never going to get out of this room if you don’t leave me alone to change.”
Tyler thought of the plans he’d made. If he had his way, he’d consign them all to hell, but he wanted to give Ally a treat. She’d given so much to him and his father, and he wanted to give her something in return.
“I’ll check on Dad,” he said reluctantly.
She waved him off with a cheeky grin. The age-old tension crept into his neck and shoulders as he walked the short distance next door. Two days on from their argument, his father was still punishing him, refusing to answer his questions, behaving like a spoiled child. It reminded Tyler of the heavy silences they’d endured as children, tiptoeing around his father’s moods. Frankly, Tyler wondered where his father found the energy—Tyler had never been able to sustain a bad mood for longer than a few hours. His father, however, had turned the sulk into an art form.
The house was blessedly quiet for once as he entered, the television switched off. He found his father at the kitchen table, frowning over a crossword puzzle. He looked up briefly when Tyler entered, then returned his attention to the puzzle without saying a word.
“Ally and I are heading out, but there are sandwiches for your lunch in the fridge,” Tyler said.
His father ignored him. Tyler stared at him for a beat, then he crossed to the counter and wrote down his phone number. Tearing the sheet off, he dug around in the junk drawer until he found some tape and stuck the note to the side of the phone.
“Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Again, no response.
In reality, his father was so recovered from his operation that he really didn’t need anyone making meals for him and supervising his showers any longer.
This morning the nurse had taken Tyler aside and told him that she didn’t think it was necessary for her to visit on a daily basis anymore. Between the two of them they’d decided to reduce her visits to weekly check-ups for the time being. If things changed—or, more accurately, when they changed—she would in crease her visits again.
Essentially, they were in a holding pattern, waiting for the cancer to make the next move.
Tyler wondered how his father was dealing with this calm before the storm. If they had a different kind of relationship, he’d try to talk to him about it.
But they didn’t. All the same, one day soon they were going to have to sit down and talk about some things. What arrangements, if any, his father wanted made. Who he wanted to perform the service.
Not a conversation Tyler was looking forward to, on several fronts.
“I’ll see you later, Dad.”
When his father continued to ignore him, he headed for the door. Ally was trying to stuff two bulky beach towels into a too-small bag when he returned.
“Here, let me take care of that,” he said.
She handed the towels and bag over. “This ought to be good.”
He slung the bag onto the bed and draped both towels around his neck.
“I could have done that,” Ally said, chagrined.
“So why didn’t you?”
She poked her tongue out at him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her toward the door.
“Stop trying to distract me.”
“I was trying to insult you, actually.”
“You’re going to have to try harder. And use a different body part.”
He urged her forward but she dug her heels in.
“Wait, I need sunscreen. And we should take something to drink. And what about lunch?”
“All taken care of.”
“Huh.”
She allowed him to usher her into his truck, and he headed into town. He stopped to collect the picnic lunch he’d ordered from the local café, then he took the freeway north until he found the turnoff he was looking for. The truck began to rock and buck as they drove onto a deeply rutted unmade roadway.
“Good grief. Where are you taking me?” she said, clinging to the armrest.
“I told you, it’s a secret place.”
“No kidding.”
The road became increasingly rough as they neared their destination. Finally he spotted the distinctive crowns of a line of willow trees ahead and the truck entered a small clearing. He parked in the shade in deference to the hot midday sun.
“I feel like I’m in Deliverance,” Ally said, peering through the windshield suspiciously. “Any second now we’ll hear the sound of banjo music.”
He got out of the truck and collected the picnic basket. “Come on, smart-ass.”
She followed him up a short, well-worn dirt track, making cracks about Deliverance all the way. Then they emerged on the riverbank and he watched the teasing expression fade from her face as she took in the gently sloping grassy bank and the clear water of the river, all framed by swaying weeping willows, their long branches dipping in and out of the water with the breeze.
“Oh, wow. This is beautiful.”
It was, although it was smaller than he’d remembered, the trees bigger, but he figured that was only natural, since it had been twenty years since he’d last been here.
“Jon and I used to hang out here every summer when we were young. All the local kids did, before they built the pool in town. There used to be an old tire swing, and we’d practice our Tarzan moves hanging out over the water.”
“There still is, look.” Ally pointed to the nearest willow.
It took him a moment to spot the tire propped in the fork of the two main branches. Someone had obviously stowed it out of sight for safekeeping. He put down the picnic basket and crossed to the tree. On close inspection, he discovered the tire was still firmly tied to one of the large overhead branches with a thick length of rope. He tugged the tire free and let it drop so that it swung like a pendulum.
“I’ve always wanted to try a rope swing. They make them look like so much fun on all those soft drink ads,” Ally said, her voice muffled.
He turned to find she’d laid the towels out on the grass and was pulling off her tank top, stripping down to her bikini top and khaki hiking shorts. He watched as she bent over the picnic basket, enjoying the way her breasts pressed forward, creamy smooth and round.
“Yum. There’s pasta salad. And fruit salad for dessert,” she said, glancing at him.
She shook her head when she realized what he’d been staring at.
“Food first,” she warned him.
He shrugged as though there had never been another thought in his head and joined her on the towels. They grazed on the selection of deli meats and salads, polishing it off with vanilla ice cream and fruit salad and a crisp, cool apple cider to wash it all down. Ally rolled onto her back afterward and closed her eyes.
“That was delicious.” She cracked an eye to look at him. “This place was worth the bumpy ride, by the way.”
He lay down beside her and she wriggled closer so that she could rest her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. Tyler gazed at the blue sky, her head a heavy weight near his heart. The only sound was the rush of the river. His belly was full, and he had an incredible, generous, smart, funny woman lying next to him. He could feel the warmth of her body alongside his, could smell her unique scent.
All the things he wanted to ask her, all the things he wanted to know faded into the background. Time slowed. The world shrank.
“This is really nice,” she said drowsily.
“Yeah. It is.”
The kind of nice a man could get used to, he decided as he drifted toward sleep.
If he w
as given half a chance.
CHAPTER NINE
HE WASN’T SURE HOW LONG he dozed for, but when Tyler woke Ally was gone. He sat up and looked around, only relaxing when he saw that she was near the big willow, investigating the rope swing. He watched with growing amusement as she attempted to climb onto it, only to fail repeatedly as it rocked beneath her weight and tipped her off.
“It’s a two-man job,” he called.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He stood and stretched, then walked down the slope to join her.
“Give me a boost,” she said, her eyes bright with anticipation.
“First, the golden rule of river swings. Gotta check the water depth before you do anything.”
He walked to the edge, stripping off his tank top. Tossing it onto the grass, he waded into the water. The river bed was soft beneath his feet, the water icy cold despite the heat of the day. He waded in up to his waist, then up to his chest. He turned back to face the bank, the current tugging at him gently.
“See where I’m standing? This is where you want to jump off, okay? Water’s nice and deep.”
“Okay.”
He made his way back to where she waited.
“Up you get.” He grabbed the rope and steadied the tire.
“Hang on a minute.”
She shed her shorts, tossing them toward his tank top. She gave him an excited smile, then placed her hand on his shoulder for balance while she stepped into the hole of the tire, then climbed on top, sliding her legs either side of the rope. She gripped the rope with both hands and looked at him expectantly.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“One last thing.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. She tasted like sunshine and fresh air, her mouth hot against his. She made one of the small, approving noises that drove him crazy and he angled his head to taste more of her. He tried to move closer, but the tire was a big, round impediment to greater intimacy. Ally started to giggle, finally breaking their kiss to laugh out loud.
“So much for the tire swing as a sex aid,” she said.
“Yeah. I won’t be rushing to the patent office with that one.”
The Last Goodbye Page 15