Loving Lydia (Atlantic Divide)

by Saxon, Diane

  “For how I reacted last night.” She wondered if he’d notice if she leaned back against the window for a moment as her knees went to water and her eyes prickled with the threat of tears.

  “I’m not used to being told ‘no’ quite at that point in the proceedings.”

  “You were the first to know.” She brought her hand up to her lips and started to chew on her thumb nail.

  “No, I think you were.”

  “I had no idea until the word was out of my mouth. You ignored it, that’s why I pushed you. I didn’t know you were going to hit the floor. I just wanted you off me.”

  “I think I was little preoccupied trying to get my dick out my trousers at the time.” She stood upright and her hand dropped away from her mouth so that she could stab her sharp forefinger at him.

  “There’s no need to be crude.”

  He stood abruptly and stomped toward her. She stood her ground and waited till they were nose to nose.

  “You wake my children, and I’m going to pull your teeth out one by one.”

  “I’m not going to wake the kids,” he hissed. “I just wanted to apologize.”

  “Well you have. Now go.”

  “I’m not finished.” He bared his teeth at her and took a firm hold of her arm. She glared down at his hand and then back into his face, narrowed her eyes, and snarled right back at him.

  “Let go of me, buster.” His eyes widened as he dropped her arm.

  “You’re not frightened of me.” He sounded surprised. She crossed her arms over her chest and sneered down her nose at him.

  “Of course I’m not.”

  “I was going to apologize for frightening you last night, but it’s not me that you’re afraid of.”

  She knew it, and now that he knew it, weak relief coursed through her. She closed her eyes and felt her shoulders droop. He wrapped his arms gently around her, drawing her in to him, and she felt the heat and comfort of him as she allowed her head to slump onto his chest. Her arms came up to wrap loosely around his waist as she leaned her weight into him.

  “Lydia, darling, you just made my knees weak. Let’s just sit a minute.” He shuffled them both backward and pulled her onto his lap as he sat on the bed. They stayed in silence for several minutes; he stroked her hair as she snuggled in and circled her thumb on his chest.

  “So, you’re not frightened of me then? Don’t you think you ought to be?”

  “No.” She kept her head tucked under his chin so he couldn’t see her hot, red face. “I know with certainty that you would never deliberately hurt me.” She felt his long sigh of relief at her conviction. She hadn’t realized before how important it was to him for her not to be scared.

  “What makes you say that? I restrained you last night. I lay on top of you.” It was almost as though he was trying to convince her that he was in the wrong.

  “You did. I thought I was going to suffocate. Don’t ever do that to me again!” She moved her head back to look up at him, raised her hand and cupped his cheek, and traced the deep line etched by his dimple. She felt a wave of tenderness as she gazed up into his gentle caramel eyes. He turned his mouth to kiss the palm of her hand and stayed there.

  “You had every right to be angry last night. I know that. And you grabbed me, but at no time were you going to hurt me. You had no intention. You just used your strength to stop me from doing something stupid. I panicked so much, I was out of control. I didn’t realize that then, but I’ve had time to think.” She trailed her fingers up to caress his ear. “And now, I believe I truly do owe you an apology. So, I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed her fingers over his lips. “Please, Sam. I’m sorry.”

  “Accepted.” His voice was clipped. She’d annoyed him again, but it was important to her that he understood how sorry she was.

  She dropped her hand and tried to sit upright.

  “I was hoping we could be friends.”

  “I can’t do that.” She didn’t understand. She sat there on his knee and he told her they couldn’t be friends.

  “Why not? I think it would be better if we were.” She tried to shift away from him to move over and sit on the bed, but his arms tightened to hold her in place. He lifted her chin with one finger and made her meet his eyes.

  “Lydia, perhaps I should have told you this earlier. My mistake, but I’m going to rectify that now. I can’t just be friends with you because I’m falling in love with you.” Breath backed up in her throat and she could feel her lips moving to try and deny it, but she couldn’t persuade any sound to come out except a small gasping noise.

  “You can’t… I can’t… I don’t think…” He laughed at her. Flustered, she couldn’t get her breath long enough to string her words together.

  “Let me up. I need to think.” She struggled out of his arms.

  “I prefer it when you can’t think.”

  Her pulse hammered and she felt like she was about to work herself up into a lather. She didn’t know whether to laugh or run. She stared at his calm face, his serene eyes.

  “Sam, you can’t be serious.”

  “As a heart attack.” She was mistaken. His eyes weren’t so serene. They were still as a millpond, but not serene. He was dead serious, and she had no idea what he expected from her.

  She huffed at him as she paced away, peered out the window, and threw over her shoulder, “I can’t tell you I love you back.” She didn’t want to hurt him, but she needed to set the record straight.

  “I understand.”

  Her panicked eyes met his. He didn’t understand. It was impossible.

  “Sam, for God’s sake, I don’t like sex.”

  His smile was a little crooked. “You like making out. We can improve on that.” She felt her eyes fill with tears. She was so confused and he wasn’t listening. As he walked over to her again, she held her hand out to stop him.

  “I’m going to disappoint you. And then I’m going to hurt you.”

  A wet tear slid down her cheek, and as his eyes scrutinized her, they hardened.

  “Lydia, you’re going to disappoint the hell out of me if you walk away now without giving this a try. Not just disappoint and hurt, but you’re going to break my goddamn heart. Are you strong enough to do that?” Determined, he challenged her head on.

  “You’re not listening,” she wailed, her voice getting higher. She gulped and glanced at the closed door to the children’s bedroom. “Can you live without sex?” she whispered.

  “Sure.” He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, wrapped her close, and held her tight. “I have for the last few weeks. I can go a bit longer.” If he thought that was going to make her laugh, he was sadly mistaken. Feeling like a coward, she thought it was better to drop the subject, so she fell silent.

  “Come to bed with me.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.”

  “You have a dirty little mind, Lydia. I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I had a terrible night last night, and I want to go to sleep. Jack will call us when there’s news.” He pulled down the covers on the bed, inviting her to slide in. She thought she must have lost her mind as she warily watched him strip off his boots, jeans, and shirt. He left his briefs on and quickly slipped into bed beside her.

  She lay stiff as a board next to him.

  “Lydia?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I need to warn you. I pretty much have an erection the whole time I’m around you, and that isn’t going to change anytime soon. So don’t get all snotty with me about it. It just is. Okay?”

  She had no idea how to respond to that, so she remained quiet.

  “Lydia?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I love you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Lydia?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want you in my arms.” She was there almost before he’d finished speaking. Wrapped around him like a vine, she felt his warm skin pressed against her
s. It probably wasn’t fair to him. He sounded like he had difficulty breathing.

  “Sam?” She traced one fingernail in small circles in his chest hair. She tucked her head under his.

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “My tattoo.”

  He placed his large hand on top of hers and stopped her stroking motion, and she realized it was probably too much to expect him to put up with her touch.

  “…your tattoo?”

  “I designed it myself, when I was sixteen. It was part of my art project at school. For my exams. I loved it so much, I had a tattoo made. Each part of it means something to me.”

  He never replied, but she heard his slow gulp.

  “Lydia?”

  “Huh?”

  “Go to sleep.”

  * * * *

  He’d never been woken up before by sharp little fingers as they prodded under his eyelids and pried out his eyeballs. He reached out desperately and took hold of the small hands determined to blind him.

  “Sam,” came the loud whisper from the culprit. Aaron.

  “Uh.”

  “Sam, Mummy’s still asleep.” He rolled and the child fell off his chest into the center of the big, soft bed. Aaron’s mummy was lying face down spread-eagled with one arm flopped over the edge of the bed and the opposite leg laying possessively across both of his. She was sound asleep.

  He slipped out from under her and beckoned for Aaron to follow him just as Rosie peeked her head around the doorway. He picked his clothes up on the way and sneaked a look back at Lydia. She wasn’t moving any time soon. He would have liked some time to look at her while she slept, but he thought it was more important to get the little rascals out of earshot. She obviously needed sleep more than he did.

  He put the television on with their favorite DVD to play, and then slipped into the downstairs bath for a quick shower. He rubbed his teeth over with his finger and eyed his unshaven face in the mirror. He needed a plan.

  By the time Lydia came downstairs looking fresh and edible, Rosie and Aaron were eating French toast like it was going out of business.

  “Who broke in and vandalized the place?” Her eyes scanned the counter that was covered in broken eggs, spilled milk, and breadcrumbs. Numerous bowls and pans had been thrown wildly around. Gritty sugar covered the entire counter and spilled down onto the floor as they’d made a hell of a mess in their pursuit of breakfast.

  Sam smiled and shrugged. It was no big deal; he could tidy up.

  “Sam let us make our own breakfast,” Rosie volunteered happily.

  “Oh. I see.” A pretty smile split her face as her eyes gleamed with amusement. “Have you heard from Kate and Jack?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Little girl, born at six eighteen this morning, Gemma Louise, seven pounds three ounces.” Jack’s weary voice came from the back door.

  “If she’s a good girl, they’re going to allow them home tomorrow afternoon.”

  Delighted for his brother, Sam watched Jack’s chest puff out with pride and Lydia’s eyes fill with tears as she ran forward to hug him. Jack scanned the kitchen.

  “Who broke in?”

  Tears flowed freely from both Kate and Lydia when Sam took her to visit the hospital two hours later. Sam stared down at the new addition with mild curiosity. With a shock of almost-black hair, the baby looked insultingly like her father after being carried by her mother for nine months. Her very proud father, who needed to be forced to give up possession of his little girl so Lydia could nestle her into her bosom.

  Chapter 7

  He watched his brother fawn over wife and daughter, and then flicked his gaze over to Aaron and Rosie, who were taking their duties as older cousins so seriously. Fetching and carrying tiny diapers, miniature socks, and onesies.

  Rosie wanted to change Gemma’s clothes every three minutes, but Sam could tell Aaron’s interest was waning. He suspected Aaron was a little disappointed with a girl, but then he was probably more disappointed because she got lots of attention and hardly moved at all, and after a whole week of being home, she still didn’t do more than wave her arms and legs in the air. When she waved them furiously, that awful howling sound came out of her.

  He could feel a silent chuckle in his chest as he watched the boy. Sam had kept away for the last few days to give them all time and space for the newborn to settle in. He’d still seen the twins down at the riding lessons, but Lydia had stayed to help out her sister, and he hadn’t managed to get his hands on her again.

  He watched Jack move across the kitchen to help himself to coffee just as Lydia walked in the door, a small pair of pink sneakers in her hands. As she spotted him, her pretty skin flushed becomingly, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she gave him a small smile of acknowledgement. He wanted to eat her. Right there and then need rose in him so viciously he felt his stomach cramp. He wanted it all—the woman, the kids, the newborn baby—and he wanted it all now. He wanted to howl with frustration that nothing had happened in days. He hadn’t even seen Lydia, never mind reach his goal to get her naked. He needed to get out of there. He stood up and scraped the chair back sharply in his panic. Kate stood at the same time and looked straight into his soul.

  “Sam, take Gemma for me, will you? I need something upstairs.” He glanced around to check out what the other adults were doing. Jack raised his mug of hot coffee in salute, and Lydia was preoccupied as she slipped sneakers onto Rosie’s feet. Kate’s smile was sly as she handed the baby over to him. It was the first time he’d held her, and his heart almost stopped as Kate tucked her safely into the crook of his arm.

  Sinking back into the chair, his chest filled as he watched the cherubic face. He was surprised at how much she took after his brother, thick, black hair with the same hairline curving around her face. Her eyes were very definitely brown, and as they fluttered closed, he watched her tiny fist find its way to her little rosebud mouth, which opened automatically at the touch of her own hand to her cheek. She turned her head seeking the source of that touch. Warmth radiated from his stomach. Her little mouth was just like her cousin Rosie’s. Perfect, sweet little Cupid’s bow and a full pouty bottom lip.

  He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her, and still smiled when he glanced over at Lydia as she opened the door to the yard so the children could go for their riding lesson. Her clear, green eyes were unnaturally bright and filled with a turmoil of sadness and regret as she turned away. He felt the lump in his chest turn to uncertainty.

  She looked as though she had been crying by the time he caught up with her. She sat on a small rug on the grass as she watched the children lead Carl on a merry dance.

  “Is something wrong?” He lowered himself beside her, making sure he pressed up against her side as close as he could get. He felt her move away and annoyance unfurled softly in his stomach like a slow moving snake that checked out its prey before it decided whether or not to strike.

  She leaned forward and picked up the camera she’d brought along with her to take pictures of the children. It appeared to give her trembling hands something to keep them occupied, and she seemed to use it as an excuse not to meet his eyes. He felt the tightening coils in his belly, but patience won and he waited her out.

  She brought the camera up to her eye and adjusted the telescopic sight until Rosie and the pony were in focus. The shutter clicked in rapid-fire succession, and she lowered the camera back to her lap.

  “I saw the way you looked at Gemma.”

  “Exactly how did I look at Gemma?”

  She lifted the camera back up to her eye, zoomed in, and took some shots of Aaron as he kicked up dust in the stable yard.

  “Like she was the best thing in the world.”

  “She is.”

  “Like that’s exactly what you want.”

  “I do.”

  Impatient, she placed the camera back down and turned to look at him. At last he could see her. He saw the fear, the confusion, and the turmoil.

&n
bsp; “You should be looking for a woman who can give you that.”

  “I’ve found the woman I want.”

  She snorted with derision. “What if I can’t give you anything, Sam? I have two babies. If nothing else, I can love and cherish that fact for the rest of my life. But you … you need a woman who can give you everything. You deserve a woman who can do that.” She drew her legs under her and came up on her knees so that she leaned in close, her eyes filled with misery and conviction. “I can’t guarantee to give you that.”

  He let the whiplash of his annoyance dictate. Grabbing her, he pulled her on top of him and then rolled until she lay flat on her back on the thick grass by the side of the rug. Careful not to put his weight on top of her, he leaned over and brought his face close to hers. The sun reflected from her bright, green eyes and her pupils dilated as she met his stare.

  “I’m not asking for guarantees, Lydia,” he ground out, allowing his frustration to show. “No one gets guarantees in life.” He stared down as she wet her lips nervously. “I’m just asking for a chance.” He let the anger follow through and lowered his mouth to hers. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth and allowed his hands the freedom he’d avoided giving them to roam her curves.

  Her body lay stiff for a moment before he felt her arms come around his neck. He hauled her so that they lay on their sides facing each other, nudged her legs apart, and felt her welcome him closer. Her mouth softened, her tongue tangled with his, and she pressed closer. Her lush little body sent his system into overdrive. Her hand slid up the inside of his T-shirt and her nails gently raked his back, causing his hips to roll against hers.

  The sound of his groan was overpowered by the shriek of two laughing, whooping children as they leaped on top of them, both demanding to join in the game of rolling in the long grass.

  Laughter rumbled through his chest as Sam raised his head to see Jack and Kate standing over them with baby Gemma cradled in Jack’s arms. Lydia scrambled up, her pretty face flushed and well-kissed, and proceeded to tickle Rosie until she screamed with laughter.