by J. J. Keller
“Why doesn’t she live with your parents?”
His broad shoulders lifted, pulling the soft cloth of his shirt tight. “My parents…” He licked lips. “No. She’s safer at school.”
“Do you visit her often?
“No. But if I can work some magic, she’ll be here by Christmas.”
The man talked in riddles. She wasn’t sure of the type of school Hayden attended, but surely they allowed her to visit her brother. “The family we’re visiting, if the parents are away, who is taking care of the children?”
“The oldest girl, seventeen-year-old Myka, has graduated from Cyan High School and is attending college. Before you ask the youngest is in diapers.”
“My.” She sighed. “The girl must be strong.”
“Odd phrasing, but, yes, she’s very responsible.” He turned the van onto a gravel road. Fifty feet ahead, squashed between enormous trees, a simple white house beckoned. Each square window illuminated shooting rays of false sunshine into the dark. Aidan stopped the vehicle and shut down the motor. Beams from the headlights highlighted broken stairs leading to a wrap-around porch. A thin, dark-haired girl scaled the damaged steps and catapulted toward the van.
Aidan caught the kid before she banged her head on the metal of the van’s open panel. “Easy now, we’re here.”
“The cow’s bleeding. I don’t know what to do. And the kids refuse to go to bed, and we…”
Determined to get out of seeing blood squirting from a cow, she stood beside the girl. “Hi! I’m Skylar. If you introduce me to the kids, I’ll watch them, and you can be the vet’s assistant for the night.”
Myka stared. Her pretty pink lips folded in, then her uncertain dark brown-eyed glance slid toward Aidan.
“It’s okay, Myka, this is my, ah, assistant, Skylar. Skylar, if you don’t mind carrying the food in, I’ll get my bag and go to the barn.” He pivoted and went to the rear of the vehicle. By the time she made it to the back he was ready to hand off the casseroles.
She took the dishes and started for the house. The van’s lights, having automatically shut off, didn’t illuminate the steps, so she kept to the sides of the stone path. Relieved she hadn’t taken a spill, she waited for the girl to open the door.
Myka, with a gallon of milk in one hand and a jug of juice in the other, joined her. Hands full, she waited for the youngster to shift a jug and pull the door open. Skylar entered the house first, completely stunned by the view.
Five fear-filled faces stared at her. Two boys, below her hip height, stood ready for action. One held a broom and one a claw hammer. Two girls about the age of five and seven, holding family resemblance to Myka with uncombed curly hair and onyx eyes held their cupped hands in front to their faded pajama tops. The toddler wore patched green polka-dot underwear and sucked on what looked like a lollipop. Lips weren’t visible under the round surface as the child puffed like one of the fish in Aidan’s shop. A dull pink circle marked the pretty round face as the lollie pushed out.
Myka sat the jugs on a nearby table, the laminate so scarred the original color was indiscernible.
“Michael, Eric, put those back on the porch. Oh, and this is Skylar. She’s going to stay with you. Skylar, this is Isabella, Morgan, and baby Courtney.” Myka touched each child on the head as she introduced them.
With two heavy bags, Skylar couldn’t hold out her hand, so she smiled. “Hi, girls, nice to meet you. How old are you?”
“Myka!” The two girls, barely up to Skylar’s knees ran in the same direction, leaving the baby strapped into a seat that could be rolled like a wagon.
Skylar crouched in front of the baby. “Hi, Courtney. Are you a boy or girl?”
The infant kicked his or her feet.
Myka reappeared. “Thanks again. I’ll be out in the barn. Michael is the oldest, and I’ve ordered him to help you.”
She passed the boys as they entered the room and she left the house. “Michael, help her.”
The girl had boundless energy and obvious dedication to her family and responsibilities. Skylar liked her.
Three sets of curious stares burned into her. Take control. Don’t show fear of these little people.
“You, boy wearing a hat, get the baby and come into the kitchen.” She jiggled the bags. “Onward, Michael.”
A flourish of scurrying, and Michael led the way along a long corridor. Squeaky wheels on the buggy indicated the baby was en route. Inside the kitchen, she expected to find dirty dishes and food stuck to every surface. Instead, the room was immaculate. She put the bags on the counter, turned toward the kids, dusted her hands, and smiled. “Thanks, Michael. Kids, wash your hands, and I’ll prepare plates of food for you. Baby—keep sucking.”
****
Aidan wiped his hands on the towel. Myka had finished cleaning the stall, and the newborn found its way to the mother.
“Certainly has an appetite.” Myka sighed.
Aidan chuckled. More than likely she was relieved the calf came out all right. “I agree. They’ll both do very well.” He repacked his bags, debating if he should bring up the scholarship idea. “Myka, you’re going to college, right?”
“Yes, part-time. Even with financial aid, a state university is all we can afford.” She glanced over the rake’s handle. A pile of tainted straw had accumulated at the end of the stall.
A smart girl, she could attend whatever college she wanted. “What’s your course of study?”
She leaned on the rake, cocked her head, and glanced into the stall. “I’m thinking of becoming a vet.”
“Excellent. You’ll be a welcome addition to the profession.” He tapped her shoulder. “Come on, I’m sure you’re hungry.” They strolled to the back door of the house and entered the kitchen. “I want to provide you with a scholarship, so you can attend full time.”
She stopped and held her hand to her chest. “What?”
He’d created a simple document to grant a scholarship to a local student. The family’s kindness to others, the girl’s abilities, and the fact she reminded him of his sister made her the prime candidate. People deserved a chance to pursue their goals and not be pigeonholed.
“OMG, thank you, Dr. Hall. But I could only accept if you’ll let me work in the practice during my vacation.” She picked up a slip of paper on the table.
“Wonderful. I’d be pleased to have you help at the office during the summer. I’ll talk to your parents about the details.” He glanced at the note. “What does it say?”
“Not much. Written by Michael.” She held the slip of paper to him. “Food in oven.”
He grinned. “Poet of the family?”
Myka snorted and opened the oven door. “Yup.”
Kids usually raised a ruckus, and this house was too quiet. “Excuse me. I’m going to check on Skylar.”
“Sure. I’m going to eat.”
“Please do.” On silent feet he checked the living room, avoiding a large box of timeworn toys, and listened for her voice. He found her in a pink bedroom with a castle nightlight illuminating her beautiful strong cheekbones. Propped against the doorframe he focused on her. Nestled on a pillow, in the middle of a small bed and sandwiched between the two little girls, she held court.
“My sister, Kiara, rode a white stallion named Bright because she thought his white coat sparkled as bright as a north star.”
“And you had Bella,” a little voice said. She kicked up her leg, tenting the pink blanket.
Skylar stroked the girl’s leg. “Yes. Her coat is as black as a witch’s cauldron. Kiara and I climbed Mount Ty. The horses remained steady even though the trail was slick from a recent rain.”
The conviction in her voice assured him she would deal with whatever came her way. She created a story where she guided a horse on a slick path. She traversed a rocky incline in search for a golden bracelet. Her tale painted a picture of an honorable, courageous woman. Her desire to remember her past was heartrending. Perhaps through the telling of a story, she’d s
trike a memory. Protectiveness rose strong inside his chest.
“Tell us about the giant again.” A small squeaky voice came from under the cover.
He hated to interrupt this cozy storytelling, but he wanted to take Skylar home. “Hi!”
She flipped a purple strand of fake hair away from her face. Her turquoise eyes sparkled. The tip of her tongue snuck out, wetting her pink lips. “Hi back. How’d it go?”
“Very well. Ready to go.”
“Sure.” Agile as a gazelle she climbed from the bed, turned and tucked the covers around the girls, then placed their miniature dolls beside them.
“What about the giant?”
“Ah, tiny ones, you know the ugly smelly giant rolls down a cliff. Next time I’ll tell you how Kiara piss, er, made a mistake and, as penance, she cleaned out horse stalls for weeks.” Skylar unclipped the hair and placed it on the bedside table.
“Promise?” The little girl’s eyelids were already shutting.
“Yes. Pleasant dreams,” Skylar murmured to the children and turned toward him.
A rush of heat flooded him. He could imagine her tucking their children in after a bedtime story. Aidan clasped her hand, wanting her more. She’d transformed his life from lonely and dull to rich, full, and exciting.
She smiled, a warm intimate separation of her lips, that sent his heart soaring. “I need to get the neighbor’s dishes from the kitchen so we can return them.”
“Thanks, I forgot.” He gripped his black bag, trying to control the surge of heat running through him. “Night, girls.”
“Night, Dr. Hall,” they mumbled.
He led Skylar to the door. Glass clanked together as she grabbed the bag off the sofa table. “Night, Myka.”
Myka held the door open for them. “Night, Dr. Hall and Skylar. Thank you for everything.”
“Call, if you see any problems with the cow or calf.”
“I will.” She shut the door, clicks sounded loud in the silent night as she bolted the lock.
He stowed his medical bag and dishes in the rear of the van. Skylar settled on to seat, then Aidan climbed behind the steering wheel. He took her cold hand into his. “You have a sister?”
She squeezed his hand and laughed, the excitement in the chuckle sent his heart pounding.
Her gaze met his, and the glimmer of joy, of pure happiness, sparkled. “No, I’m an only child. But I do have a horse named Bella.”
“I guess that’s the reason you’re not scared of my horse.” Skylar was gorgeous, tall, tight-muscled, and undeniably desirable. His heart beat faster He felt more than protective of her. His intention was to hug her, but her enthusiasm and the image of her telling a bedtime story ignited closeness. He seized her mouth, parting her slick warm lips, and tasted chocolate.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. “Let’s go home.”
Her voice came out husky and breathy. His nerve endings tingled. He wanted her to stay forever. But from her remembrance of being a single child and the name of her horse, her memory might be returning.
And she’d leave.
Chapter Seven
Skylar’s rear pressed against the bedroom door, as Aidan aligned his body with hers. Nearby, a queen-size bed loomed in the background of a starlit window. The bed’s high headboard arched blocking the bottom of the pane. Rampant fire rushed through her as his hands curved over hips, stroking and caressing.
She whispered into his ear. “Let’s move to the bed, toss the black comforter, and slide right onto those slick white sheets.”
His hot lips currently licked and sucked on the mound of her right breast. Good choice, not wearing a bra. She stared into his beautiful silver gray eyes.
His gaze lingered, heating her. The golden glimmer didn’t frighten her. She touched his lips, getting a whiff of the cinnamon candy the children shoved into his pocket.
She might not know her history, her home, or even if she could drive one of those gas powered vehicles, but she knew him. The warmth flooding her was a result of Aidan and the connection she’d experienced the first time she’d met him.
Her instincts pointed to love, a worthless emotion. Love disabled a warrior, weakened her.
“Your skin smells like flowers and spice, my favorite.”
She ached for the touch of his lips. Sparks of need rose when he trailed soft kisses from one spot to the next. Impatient, she tugged him close and curled her thigh over his.
“Less talk, more action.” Crap where had that come from? He says something kinda romantic, and I reply with a bad line most likely from some lame movie.
“Easy.” His hands slid from her shoulders and slowly caressed the sides of her breasts. He bent his head and pressed kisses on the top curve of each.
Tingles rippled from her skin’s surface through her, landing with a hard pound in her chest. “It’s just…” She sucked in a breath. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you, when you opened the door.”
A deep growl rumbled in his throat. His fingers snapped the button of her trousers. As he lowered the zipper, his knuckles grazed her stomach, sending a thrill through her belly and up to join the disjointed beats in her heart. The trousers rustled as they quietly folded onto the wooden floor.
She slipped the buttons from his simple white cotton shirt, and it fell open, revealing a fine line of curls. “Wow!” She caressed, stroked each defined muscle.
His nipples hardened, becoming pebbles of firm pink flesh as she fondled. She shifted her hands to his sides, then around the front to the firm ridges along his stomach, tapering down to the hardness she truly wanted to feel.
Slick sheets rustled as he gripped her rear, pulling her closer. The rise beneath his jeans pressed against her. A shiver raised the hairs on her arms. Ignition. Tingles raced along her inner thighs, little ripples surged, and moisture dampened her silk underwear. She was hot, ready, and only he could satisfy her needs.
“Jeans off. I want to touch you.” She proceeded to unbutton the latch, unzip the metal bar, and tug down the slacks. Her fingers grazed his penis, feeling the heat beneath the strong warm muscle.
He exhaled.
The warmth of his body left as his jeans fell. Unsheltered his attributes grew larger. She gazed at his long hard velvet-coated penis as it jutted toward her. Her breath whistled as she exhaled. “You’re beautiful.”
“Shh.” A slight move, and he engulfed her in an embrace. He pressed his warm supple lips to hers. She opened her mouth, accepting his tongue. Her tongue darted, playing tag with his.
A fresh pool of warmth lodged in her loins. Nudging his thighs with hers, she pushed against him. She spread, opening the path to ultimate earthly delight.
He wrapped one of his strong arms around her waist and with little effort laid her on the bed. Heated under his touches, she grabbed the slats of the wooden headboard and stretched, trying to slow down the ripe desire, wanting to make the wonderful feeling last.
He forged a path across her belly, using his mouth as the compass. She lifted her hips, eager for more. He gifted her with tiny kisses between her breasts. Her nipples tightened, rising as an offering. To her disappointment, he lay beside her and nuzzled her neck.
A cry of pleasure lodged in her throat when his gentle fingers tweaked her tingling nubs, rolling and rubbing until she released her shout of pleasure. At the moment she thought she couldn’t hold the passion back any more, he left her throbbing nipples and cupped her head. His body aligned with hers.
He kissed the side of her cheek, her shoulder, and the groove beneath her shoulder blade. “The curve of your back, the softness of your skin—”
“Sparkle lotion.”
He lowered his hands, stroked those precious digits over her belly and along her thighs. She couldn’t breathe. Little tremors spread across her stomach. A whimper tore from her as he wove through the curls at the apex of her thighs.
Anticipation of more created vibrant sensations. Heat increased with every ca
ress. She opened wider. He circled the spot, teased the area that clutched with every kiss and caress.
A fresh spill of liquid desire pooled. “More.”
He moaned. “I want you. Only you, my little wood nymph.”
One thigh crossed hers. He settled between her legs without losing contact. His hands moved to each side of her head, keeping the bulk of his weight off. She placed her hands on his shoulders, wanting to drag his full weight on top.
Skin on skin, the feel of his body hair rubbed against her. The heat of him and the smoothness of his broad shoulders increased her trembling body. She hooked her thighs around his hips, shifting to allow him entry. Accepting his long, hard length, her shaky breaths changed into a pleasured moan.
“Ah, love.” He withdrew, but not entirely. “So good.”
She gripped his firm naked rear and tugged him to her. Her lips parted and moans escaped as she moved her legs, adding friction to the decadent rush of pleasure. A surge of sensation filled her, sparking renewed warmth, a feeling she wasn’t sure she knew how to describe. Perhaps perfect.
She moved to match his rhythm.
A growl, coming low from his throat, vibrated his chest and pressed into her breasts, exciting her nipples to hard points.
Her hips bumped into his as the rise and fall of their union continued. Her muscles clenched as the intensity swelled. The rhythm caught and with each ebb and flow, her need built. Strong waves of desire splashed through her. Close to the precipice and lost in the delight of their union, she cried out his name.
As the climax overtook her, she hugged him close, wanting to feel his heart beat deep in his chest—to become part of him. She wanted that rush of emotion, the heat to return. He was her absolute bearing, the only familiar in a vast unknown.
His elbows, braced at her sides, tightened and she felt a warm rush of fluid enter her.
****
He clutched her body, enveloping her in his embrace, drove in again as she arched, connecting their hot sweaty bodies. His seed exploded. The racing beat of her heart matched his. He moaned with pure happiness.
She gave a quivery sigh. “Do you hear bells?”