by Siera London
“I have a meeting scheduled with Abel Burney over on the golf course to firm up the plans for Cai’s party on Saturday.” The next words he spoke could possibly take her away from him, so he debated whether to mention it at all. “Delaney will be here in the morning.”
Owen held his breath unsure if Ivy would take the parachute he’d given her. Again, he had Cai to consider. If Ivy was going to leave, it would be better, he told himself, for her to be gone in the morning.
“Nice, you can introduce me to her and Autumn,” she said, sleep heavy in her voice.
A shaky breath escaped him. Owen realized he’d been nervous. The uncertainty of whether she’d choose him and his son or a road to nowhere gave him an edgy churn in his gut.
“Want to come with me tomorrow?”
It only took her a second to respond. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He wondered if it was the fatigue talking but decided to accept the gift of her company for as long as he could. Owen grinned knowing she’d share a ride with him and Cai in the morning.
“After breakfast, we’ll drop my little buddy at school, and then our adventure will start.”
Ivy yawned, and said, “Stay away from the toaster.”
A trace of humor filled her words. As a single parent, he had the sole responsibility of preparing all the meals. He welcomed another set of hands in the kitchen, especially when the food tasted like Ivy’s. Her body softened against his and Owen moved to get out of bed. With her hand, she reached out and stroked his cheek.
“Come here,” she whispered.
Owen’s control wasn’t the best on a good day. With her hot little body pressing down on him, his restraint flickered like a candle in the desert wind. “What do you need?”
Voice heavy with sensuality, she said, “Give me a good night kiss.”
Owen met and held Ivy’s gaze. “If we do this,” he said, trailing his callused thumb across her lower lip, “then I’m the knot in your rope. You hold on to me. I won’t break, so you don’t let go.”
Ivy parted her lips, and then stroked the pad of his thumb. Flames ignited in Owen’s blood, threatening his self-control.
He threw an arm around her back to pull her up closer, and then he said. “You really are playing with fire.”
She grinned up at him. “I’m a Florida girl, remember. I can take a lot of heat.”
“In that case, it’s whatever the lady wants,” he chuckled, covering her pliable lips with his own.
Twenty minutes passed, and her shapely curves went lax in sleep. He heard the slow intake of her breath and knew fatigue had claimed her. Lifting her easily, he placed her beside him and stood to his feet. Owen looked down at the sleeping woman. He knew he needed to get some rest, because Ivy Summers was still prepared to run away with his heart and he’d do everything in his power to keep them both with him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Open mouthed, Ivy gapped at the expansive Abel Burney Golf Course. Lush greens covered rolling hills with natural bodies of sky blue water dotting the picturesque landscape. In the distance she could see the vast lands of Willis vineyards. Rows of grapes vines planted in precise formation looked back at her, their sugared fragrance more potent in this Mediterranean-like climate. To the east, tall pine trees expanded the verdant canvas as far as the eye could see. The view left Ivy breathless. This small California town, a hidden gem, literally sparkled like a jeweler’s display case.
“You look like you appreciate the scenery.”
The voice came from behind her. Ivy spun away from the Pro shop’s giant window to come face to face with a man.
He smiled, broad and friendly. “I’m Abel Burney,” he said, extending his hand in greeting. “I own the place.”
“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” she said, unable to curtail her enthusiasm.
Abel was tall and lean like a lot of the men she’d seen around Endurance. His skin was the richest tan. With his dark slate eyes and slightly gray temples, he reminded her of a distinguished gentleman. It was easy to see him in a tuxedo or at a fancy gallery or something. Where Owen was rough hued, this man was refined, with a masculine elegance.
“Play a round or two?” He gestured to a golf bag with a few clubs inside. “On me, of course.”
When Ivy took a step back, he smiled.
“I couldn’t possibly.” She’d never touched a golf club. Even now, the only reason she could think to pick the thing up would be to swing it like Tiger Wood’s ex-wife.
In two days, she’d met two business owners. She could hardly believe her luck. She liked the town and the people of Endurance. Blinking back what felt like tears, Ivy took in the shop. The space was large, with royal blue carpeted floors, circular clothing racks, ball cap stands, and wood shelves with the latest in Footjoy golfing shoes. Abel Burney had done well for himself. Back in Shell Cove, the men in her eastside neighborhood were grateful to have employment. Owning a business seemed almost foreign to her, yet this man and Owen struck her as born-to-command leaders. And now, in his generosity, he’d offered her a gift. In a short period of time, she noticed generosity applied to several of the Endurance men. Owen had given her a job and a place to stay. Luke and Hank, she knew left tips under their plates that were more than the cost of the meal. Those gestures were a matter of survival. While she appreciated Abel’s kindness, she couldn’t possibly accept.
“Can’t possibly do what?” Owen’s timbre came from behind her, filling the room. Ivy jumped, not having heard him enter the golf pro shop.
Apparently, Owen had arranged for lunch in the club restaurant for Cai and his school friends following a morning of miniature golf.
Abel chimed in, “I offered your lady a round of golf on the house.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
Ready to correct Abel’s assumption, Ivy started to tell him that she and Owen were, well...she didn’t know what lay between them beyond attraction.
“We’ll take it,” Owen replied, stepping closer to drape proprietary hands on both her shoulders. She smelled the scent of his minty breath a second before his lips brushed her cheek. “We have four hours before Cai has to be picked up from school. The staff has everything arranged for his birthday party on Saturday” he whispered. “It’ll be fun, Ivy.”
In a low tone, she warned, ‘I’ve never held a club.” She didn’t want to be held responsible if she gave him a black eye.
He nestled in even closer. From this position, there was no doubt she and the bar owner were very familiar.
“Let me teach you.”
The double meaning in his words triggered a rapid release of raw hunger. Ivy’s knees buckled, but Owen was there, holding her, giving her support. Everything about the man made her boneless with need.
Whenever they touched, the connection seemed to transport her to another dimension. One where only she and Owen existed. With a wink from Abel, Owen had her outfitted in a sherbet orange Polo shirt, and a khaki-colored skort. It was the first time a man had purchased her new clothes. Ivy about choked at the eighty-eight-dollar price tag.
“Thank you, Owen, but for that much money, we could’ve shopped the runway at Goodwill,” she responded.
Owen just shook his head, smiling like a teenager who’d bought his girlfriend a promise ring.
The crack of metal hitting plastic resin at high velocity snapped through the air. Someone must be on the course, even though it was barely eight o’clock. Her head sprang up, to find Abel Burney’s knowledgeable eyes on them.
As he looked from Owen to her, a slow smile spread across his face. “Well now. Seems we have reason to celebrate.”
Oh no, in that moment Ivy wished she’d stayed home. Abel had been so nice to her. When she left, and she would leave, he’d know that she had somehow hurt Owen. Her sexy bar owner wanted more than she was willing to offer. He was the best kind of man; warm, considerate, generous, and protective.
“I think so.” Owen’s voice dropped low, and she b
linked realizing she’d missed some transfer of information between the two men.
Abel offered his hand. “Ivy welcome to Endurance.” To Owen he said. “You know where everything is. Enjoy, folks.”
Fifteen minutes later Ivy found herself peering down at a hot pink colored golf ball with Owen nestled against her back. Supposedly he was trying to teach her a basic stroke, but her mind wandered to the repeated stroke of his hardness against her back side.
“Concentrate, sweetheart. Stay the course.”
Though an innocent request, a spark ignited in Ivy’s blood. How was she supposed to focus with him pressed up against her?
“Bite me,” she snapped. To her surprise, the feel of his teeth nipping her earlobe sent a bolt of electricity straight to her pleasure center.
Taking a deep breath, Ivy let Owen guide her into drawing back her club face and striking the fluorescent dimpled sphere. To her delight, the ball took flight. Owen explained the dimpled surface helped with wind resistance.
Three hours later, Ivy’s mind reeled at how much fun a stuffy game of golf could be with Owen close by her side.
“Oh my goodness,” she laughed. “I’m doing it.” Dropping the club, she did an awkward turn and fell into Owen’s waiting arms.
He hugged her tight. “Yes, you are, my little amateur.”
“Not at everything,” she teased.
“Ivy,” he growled. Immediately she could feel the air shift to something more carnal between them. “You want to continue last night’s game?”
She looked up into his eyes. The predator she’d seen in his eyes before had returned. This time she wouldn’t shy away. With both her hands free, she stroked her big cat’s back. Before her eyes, those blue eyes darkened, the pupils narrowed to pinpoints, yet she knew she was more in his sight than she’d ever been.
“Walk,” he growled low in his throat. The rumble vibrated through the hand she placed on his chest.
“Where?” she asked, glancing around.
Grabbing both her shoulders, he turned her so that her back was to his chest. An outcropping of trees stood about fifty yards off to the left.
“I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Oh goodness, would he touch her in the light of day? Her heart rate sped up. She struggled to draw in a breath. The thought of being caught excited her. A heavy hand swatted her full backside.
“Ouch,” she yelped, rubbing her stinging cheek.
“Stop daydreaming, sweetheart. I’m all about giving you the real thing to hold onto.”
And hold on she would. Everything about Owen Tate had been seared into her mind.
They breached the tree line. Ivy expected to find a clearing on the outside. But, it was just the opposite. The trees grew taller and more dense in this area of the course. She should have known. Her protector would keep her safe, even her modesty.
Without preamble, Ivy found herself pressed up against a hard pine, Owen’s harder body covering her from breast to hip bone.
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
Her lips were on his in a flash. After the morning rush to get Cai off to school, she’d missed her fix of Owen’s hands on her.
When he penetrated her mouth, Ivy’s body seemed to buzz. A dizzying, its-about-time sensation washed over her. She would never get enough of Owen’s taste.
This time when he touched her, Owen’s hands found their way over all of her curves. He palmed her breasts, her belly, her derriere. Stopping there, he groaned in her mouth.
“Owen,” she whispered.
“I love the way you fill out a pair of jeans. It drives me crazy every time you’re within an inch of me. I can’t help but want to touch you.”
Eyes closed, she tilted her head, allowing him to pepper her neck with kisses.
“You can touch me whenever you want, Owen,” she stated, willing to give him anything he asked for in that moment. “I love it when you touch me.”
He froze. Desire blazed in his eyes. She held his stare. Her gaze telling him she was his to pleasure. She wanted the same thing he did, to be desired beyond reason.
Lifting a hand, Owen threaded thick fingers into her loose tresses. She didn’t flinch when he twisted her locks around his fingers. With a long look and silence, he used his other hand to loosen her buttons on her top. Never had she been more grateful he’d taken her t-shirt away. She moaned when he pulled her swollen mounds, heavy with need, free of her bra.
He looked down at her exposed flesh. As the silence stretched between them, she moved to cover herself.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice husky. “You’re beautiful, Ivy.”
There was awe in his voice and appreciation in his gaze. Her breath hitched for the briefest of moments.
Pressing her lips to his, she whispered, “Thank you. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, Owen Tate.”
Somehow, Ivy knew sharing herself with Owen would change her life. The look in his eyes, the need, the hunger, the male possession would visit her in her dreams years from now. Sucking in a deep breath, Ivy blinked back the emotion threatening to spill from her eyes. This brooding, demanding, wounded, yet passionate man found her beautiful.
“I’ll give you release but, Ivy the first time I make love to you will be in my bed. You deserve that and so much more.”
In that moment, she knew the feelings she harbored for Owen were more than lust. It was love. Maybe not the kind in fairytales, but something more flawed and anchored in reality. When he touched her there with his fingers, she communicated with her body all the words she could never say to him.
HIS fantasy of touching Ivy in the most intimate of places paled in comparison to the reality. Unequivocally, she had to be the sweetest woman, the essence of her still flavored his mouth, yet Owen wanted her again. Depressing the gas pedal, the truck rounded Hood Road as they cruised through town. He glanced at his woman lazily relaxed next to him. Her head against the passenger door. He thought her too far away but contented himself with the fact that he’d put that dreamy look in her eyes.
“Feel proud of yourself?” she asked, not looking at him.
Heck, yeah. He’d satisfied her without fully claiming her. Anticipation of the night to come had him adjusting his pants.
“Do I have a right to be?” Not that he required reassurance, but her silence as they left the golf course troubled him. Ivy wanted him, not just for love making, either. But something or someone kept her at arm’s distance. He thought back to the trouble that had brought her to Endurance. He’d told her he wouldn’t judge. What else could he do to earn her trust?
“Daddy?”
Cai, secured in his safety set, leaned forward, his head appearing larger in the rearview mirror. His son had been bouncing on antsy feet when he spotted Ivy in the car.
“Yeah, buddy.”
“Is Ivy sweet?”
From the passenger seat, Owen heard Ivy choke. Reaching across, he patted her back trying to hold his own laughter.
“Yeah,” he said, cupping a hand possessively around her neck. “She is.”
Every cell in his body told him this woman was his, that with Ivy they would be a family again.
“Is that why you tasted her last night?”
What in the Sam Adams? Owen’s foot slipped off the accelerator. The truck speed dropped, and a car horn sounded behind them. He glanced over at Ivy. Wide-eyes stared back at him out of a strawberry-red face.
“Ah, well, you see son. When a man-”
Four-year-olds didn’t get lessons in the birds and bees, did they? What the heck did the birds or bees know about craving a woman? What the heck did he know about explaining the kiss Cai must have witnessed in the hallway last night?
Cai sat forward in his booster. “I told Mrs. Petry before nap time that I seen you tasting each other. She said you’d kissed Ivy. Can I kiss her, too?”
Ivy chimed in, trying to change the subject.
“I thought Saratoga Springs would get us home faster?” Ivy asked, a f
urrow between her brows.
Owen’s spine stiffened. He avoided that road. Hadn’t lay a tread on the asphalt covering that ground since the day he placed Caitlyn in the ground.
“Should I kiss Ivy too, Daddy?”
Owen could tell by Ivy’s pinched expression that she felt uncomfortable with Cai’s line of questioning.
“Hey, buddy. How about we discuss this at home.”
“But-“
“Just me and you, Cai.”
“Okay, but I like Ivy. I should get to taste her, too.”
Owen was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable on Ivy’s behalf. The confusion Cai had to be experiencing wasn’t lost on him. How would he explain if Ivy decided to leave? Was he moving too fast? He and Ivy would have to discuss the direction their relationship was heading. As a single father, Owen never planned to parade a string of random women around his son. In his mind he saw Ivy staying with them...forever.
He looked in her direction to find that nervous habit of hers in full affect. Her thumb was firmly pressed into her bottom lip as if she was trying to keep herself from confessing. It reminded him of a child reluctant to tell a parent of wrongdoing. He decided to ignore the comment about Saratoga Springs and reached for her hand instead. They sailed through the intersection of Hood and Saratoga Springs.
“Hey,” he said capturing her hand and placing it on his thigh. “You okay?”
Cai piped in from the backseat. “Daddy, you going to taste her again?”
Four-year olds and their fixations. Owen swore the kid just liked saying the word taste. But he pulled on the patience that came with being a parent.
“Cai, no more talk about and tasting Ivy, Mrs. Petry, or kissing.”
“Ivy?” Cai called.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can I have some of your unmunchables?”
Ivy’s jaw fell slack and Owen choked on his own spit.
“Wh...what?” she stammered.
Owen recalled her very adult joke about her unmentionables with him yesterday morning.
“You told daddy not to put your unmunchables in his pocket.” Ivy muttered a few indiscernible words before mouthing the word help. “I asked Ms. Petry if I could have some unmunchables from the snack drawer. She said you two need to start talking in private.”