The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. The pup would be a tie between him and his son. God, he’d love to see Matt’s face light up when he found out he’d have his very own dog!
Of course, he had to get past Matt’s mother first. And she wasn’t looking too enthusiastic right now. “What do you say, Randi?” he asked carefully. “Will you at least think about it?”
She had every intention of saying no, but the look of boyish anticipation on his face had her wavering. Again. Her glance fell on the sleeping puppy. Matt would love it of course. But there was Jill to consider. Her sister would still be in charge of Matt during Randi’s working hours, but at her new home with David—at least until Matt started school. And Randi had a suspicion Matt would insist on bringing any dog he owned with him.
Still, she supposed she could at least air the idea with Jill and David. “I’ll think about it,” she told Travis, and rose to clear away the remains of their meal.
“Good.” He rose, too, brushing her hands away from the tray. “Here, I’ll do that.”
“No, I…” She stepped back a pace as a giddy shiver ran through her. That slight brush of his hands on hers had sent the equivalent of an electric current through her.
She couldn’t explain it. One moment she’d been relaxing with him over a meal; yet in the space of a heartbeat, she stood here, tingling and tongue-tied. She stared helplessly, utterly drawn by that masculinity he wore with confidence and grace. Like it or not, she knew she’d never been more aware of anyone as a man.
Had he noticed? She glanced at his face and swallowed. From the way he was looking at her, he had.
“Hey, darlin’, what’s wrong?” Travis quickly set the tray aside and came around the table. “You okay?” He tilted her face up with a touch of his knuckles under her chin.
A light breeze was building, lifting the napkins on the tray; it provided the excuse she needed. “I’m okay,” she told him, rubbing her arms with her hands. “It’s just a bit chilly.”
“Here,” he murmured, taking over for her and running his hands up and down her arms. This only brought another giddy quiver, and he drew her close, wrapping his arms around her like a warm cocoon.
Randi’s heart was thudding like a drum, and she told herself to pull away. But there was something oddly nonthreatening about the embrace, despite the storm clamoring inside her. These were a man’s arms, yes. But they were also arms that had cradled a puppy with tender care. They belonged to a man who’d recently stood beside a tidal creek for hours, and with patience and forbearing, taught a small boy how to catch crabs.
Quit fighting it, Terhune, the familiar inner voice chided. Just this once. Haven’t you wanted to know what it would be like? To let a man hold you? To relax in a man’s arms and see where it leads?
There was a moment’s hesitation. Then, with a soft sigh, she leaned her head against his chest.
Travis smiled as he rested his chin on the top of her head. She felt so damned good in his arms he wanted to hold her all night. Not that he’d tell her that. Although he’d made some inroads, she was still skittish. Too bad he didn’t know what was behind it. But he still had plenty of time to find out. Easy does it, McLean. One step at a time.
“Guess I was right, after all,” he murmured, his hand making lazy circles over her shoulders and back.
“Hmm?” she heard her own voice as if it came from a distance. Had anything in the world felt this good? Ever?
He chuckled, the vibration sending tiny pulses through her nerve endings. “Appears there was a thing or two needed pursuin’ after last night.”
“Mmm,” she responded, lulled by his lazy drawl, by the cadence of crickets, the soft night and the faint murmur of the sea in the distance.
“Miz Terhune,” he went on, his voice a husky whisper, “I do believe it’s time, don’t you?”
“Hmm?” She only half heard his words. Eyes closed, her body limp and boneless, she gave herself up to the sensation of those big soothing hands caressing her back and shoulders.
“For this, darlin’,” he breathed, pulling slightly away to cup her head between his hands. His gaze roamed over her features as he gently threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her face upward.
Her eyes felt heavy-lidded as she forced them open and met his gaze. She watched it search hers for several seconds, then drop to her mouth.
“For this,” he repeated in a smoky whisper, and his mouth lowered and claimed hers.
The kiss was as lazy and unhurried as his voice. His lips were warm and unbelievably soft as they closed over her own. By tiny increments, they grew firmer, and soon he was shaping her mouth, molding it. Pulling her along in a tide of sensual pleasure as unsuspected as it was delicious.
Caught in a sensual haze, she slid her hands upward without thinking, savoring the feel of the rock-hard wall of his chest and its solid masculine strength. Higher now, over the granite curve of pectorals, their smooth surface broken by the flat male nipples that contracted as her fingers passed. Then on to the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders. Here she clung with unsteady hands and heard the approving murmur deep in his throat as he widened his stance and tightened the embrace.
Randi’s awareness focused on the joining of their mouths. His lips continued to shape hers with expert care, moving, moving, sending her into a long sensual glide toward pleasure she’d never dreamed of. Not from a simple kiss, maybe not from anything.
She felt the first touch of his tongue when it slid along the seam of her lips, and a jolt of pleasure sluiced through her belly and thighs. Something deep inside her tightened, became a yearning need as, with his tongue, he gently traced the shape of her mouth.
She heard herself moan as he nipped at her lower lip with his teeth, then soothed the sensitized flesh with lips and tongue. Deftly he sucked and teased until her own lips parted. Then, ever so lightly, he probed the velvet cave of her mouth with his tongue until she couldn’t help herself and shyly touched the tip of hers to his.
Travis shuddered, surprised by the jolt of hunger this sent to his groin. Hell, what was happening here? It was just a kiss. And he’d kissed dozens of women, most of them a lot more expert than Randi, from what he could tell. He was reacting like a kid on his first date. Was it her inexperience that intrigued him? Maybe, but it didn’t account for the wave of pure lust he was feeling over an uncomplicated kiss. He was hot enough to—’
Whoa, McLean! Chill out. Give yourself time to think, ol’ buddy. Lovely though she be, this isn’t just any woman. This is Matt’s mama, with a world riding on what happens. One wrong step, and you may not get another chance.
Drawing in a breath, he released it slowly, gently disengaged himself and stepped back. But the look on Randi’s face didn’t help. Her features had softened, and as she looked up at him in mild confusion, he could see that her pupils were dilated. And then there was her mouth. God, in some countries he’d been in, a man could go to jail for what he thought of teaching that mouth to do!
Unaware of his thoughts, she chose that moment to run her tongue over her lips. Shutting his eyes to close out the sensual image, he gave a half-audible groan. Damn, but he wanted her! She was all woman under that icy reserve, though he had a sneaky hunch she didn’t realize it.
“Travis?” The sensual haze was starting to fade, but very slowly; yet Randi knew enough to sense something was bothering him. Doubt nibbled at-the-edges of her mind. Perhaps it was a mistake to—
A whimper issued from the carton on the floor. They both glanced at Ulysses, who was rising awkwardly from the bedding.
“Uh-oh,” Travis said, seeing the pup begin to sniff. He moved quickly to the box and scooped it up, then grinned at Randi. “Time to start the housebreakin’.”
Laughing, she led the way to the front door. Ulysses wasted no time in relieving himself, and they both praised him. Travis picked him up and was holding him against his chest while his eyes went to Randi. “I’ll put him in the car,
then come ‘n’ help you clean up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “And thanks for the feast.”
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said softly, and from the way his eyes moved to her mouth, she knew he wasn’t thinking of the clams.
She felt her breathing go shallow. Tried to gather her wits and decide how to answer. Before she could say a word, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.
“Tomorrow night ‘bout eight,” he whispered, his warm breath stirring the hair just above her ear. “Wear somethin’ comfortable.”
Comfortable? she thought as she watched him head for his car. She doubted if she’d ever use “comfortable” and “Travis” in the same breath.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN SHE AWOKE THE next morning, Randi’s first thought was to wonder what Travis had planned for that evening. Would it allow her the chance to learn his long-range plans? After all, that was the only reason she was seeing him, wasn’t it?
In the next instant she decided the worst thing she could do was sit around all day waiting for eight o’clock to arrive. Bad enough that McLean invaded her dreams—he’d made a crazy appearance in them last night. She wasn’t about to let him mess up her daytime hours, too.
Using a chamber-of-commerce guide the rental office had provided, she went antiquing. The home she shared with Jill contained many lovely old treasures they’d inherited from their aunt Tess. The sisters were always hunting for interesting pieces to enhance these furnishings. Jill even had a bumper sticker that read, “This Vehicle Stops for Antique Shops.”
The morning passed quickly as Randi wandered through more than a dozen shops. She came across many fine antiques she couldn’t afford, but that was par for the course. Among these was a wonderful mermaid weathervane she’d have loved to buy for Jill and David as a wedding gift. She sighed, regretting just this once the need to shop within her modest budget. Giving the weathervane a last lingering look, she told herself she’d find something affordable back home. Meanwhile, the browsing was fun.
Then, just as she was leaving the last shop before preparing to head back, she spied a red-and-white quilt in the schoolhouse pattern. About a hundred years old and in good condition, it was pricey, but not exorbitant. Deciding it would be perfect on a wall in Matt’s room, she bought it.
On the way back she stopped at a small roadside eatery and treated herself to a lunch of crabcakes, an Eastern Shore specialty. They were delicious, yet she found herself thinking she preferred her crabs prepared like those they’d caught with Travis. They’d eaten them steamed, with lemon and drawn butter. She recalled how Matt had gone on and on about the crabbing expedition as she’d gotten him ready for his trip to Disney World.
She frowned. Admit it, Terhune, she told herself irritably. It wasn’t just the crabbing he enthused about. It was the man who organized it!
That she currently found herself succumbing to a similar phenomenon—she wryly dubbed it “Travis on the Brain”—didn’t sit well with her. She’d been hoping Matt would get over his fascination with McLean by the time he returned; but what use was that if she was preoccupied with the man?
Determined to concentrate on her R and R, she returned to the cottage and went for a swim. After an hour or so in the water, she decided to remain on the beach until suppertime. Slathering on sunscreen, she stretched out on her towel and took in the scene around her.
Sunlight glinted off the water under a cloudless sky so blue it almost hurt the eyes to look at it. At the water’s edge, several -children shrieked and romped in the surf. About a dozen people lounged nearby, and all were families she recognized by now, with young children.
Two-parent families, every one of them.
She heaved a sigh. It wasn’t as if single-parent families weren’t common in today’s world. The media were full of stories about single mothers. Fathers, too. Just her luck the particular vacation spot she’d chosen didn’t have any in evidence. Besides her, of course.
Her interest in the beach gone, she trudged back to the cottage. Next year, she promised herself, she’d do a little more research when planning a getaway; maybe there was a resort that catered to single parents with kids.
Back at the cottage she realized she felt drowsy. All that sun and surf, she thought, frowning when a tenderness on her shoulders told her she’d gotten a slight burn. Grinning to herself between yawns as she showered, she decided to take a nap. A nap, right in the middle of the afternoon! She hadn’t considered such an idea in years.
There were definite advantages to having some time to yourself, she decided. And when that nagging inner voice suggested that mothers in two-parent families probably had a lot more, she ignored it.
As she stepped from the shower, Jill called, sounding excited. “Randi, are you sitting down? I just came across a piece of information that knocked my socks off.”
“What?” Randi asked, reaching for her robe and stifling a yawn.
“Not what, who!”
Randi was too sleepy to manage much enthusiasm. She barely squelched another yawn as she tied the thin cotton robe in place. “Who, then?”
“Your son’s granddad, that’s who!”
Randi came wide awake. “How do you know—”
“Just listen,” Jill broke in. “David picked up some of the local papers this morning, and the features section of the Miami Herald just happened to be running a story on a medical convention in Miami this week. There was an article on the keynote speaker. Seems he’s a worldrenowned heart surgeon from Virginia.”
“Go on.” Randi was fully alert now. She remembered what Travis had told her about the surgeon father who’d had no time for his children. Was this the man?
“Well,” Jill said, “the article included the guy’s professional background, highlights from an illustrious career in medicine, that sort of thing. It also gave some family background. His name’s Dr. Trent McLean, Randi. He’s gotta be Matt’s granddad because the article mentioned a wife and three children—one, a son named Travis. A world-famous heart surgeon, and he’s Matt’s granddad!”
“Let’s skip the ‘granddad’ bit, okay?” Randi said. “‘Biological grandfather’ will do if we must discuss it at all, but that’s as far as I go.”
“Picky, picky,” Jill teased, to which Randi gave a noncommittal grunt. Granddads, in her mind, were pleasant white-haired old gentlemen who, if you were lucky enough to have one, occupied a warm comforting place in a kid’s life. She’d never known her own grandparents, who died before she and Jill were born, but she knew how it was supposed to work.
Granddads were backups for dads. They did stuff like helping kids build model airplanes and taking them fishing, or told wonderful stories about what it was like in the old days. They were not doctor celebrities who’d probably never built a model airplane in their lives. And they most definitely were not old-money aristocrats who’d never had time for their own sons, let alone grandsons.
The noncommittal grunt was followed by a guttural sound of disgust.
“Hmm,” Jill mused, “sounds as if I got you at a bad time. It isn’t like you to be grumpy in the middle of the afternoon. What’s the matter, sis? This is your hard-earned vacation. You’re supposed to be enjoying it.”
Randi assured her she was, explaining about being tired from the full day she’d had. She went on to describe the quilt, which her sister couldn’t wait to see. She made Jill promise not to mention it to Matt, so he’d be surprised.
“You realize, don’t you, that a four-year-old won’t care beans about its antique status,” Jill told her. “You’d better pick up some terrific plastic neon junk gizmos, as well, kiddo, if you know what’s good for you.”
Randi chuckled. “Okay, okay. But I bet you and David’ve already loaded Matt down with plenty. Duly emblazoned with cartoon logos from mouse country.”
“Better believe it. In every color, from hot fuchsia to psychedelic yellow.”
Randi laughed again, her tired
ness forgotten. Jill often did that for her, and the reverse was also true. They were a terrific team. We may not be able to boast any famous granddads, but in the sister/aunt department, we do okay.
“I don’t suppose you’ve had time to come up with anything on the, uh, research front?” Jill’s change of topic was uttered casually, but Randi heard an eagerness behind it.
“You don’t suppose right,” she quipped, “but tune in tomorrow, same time, same station. Maybe I’ll have something for you.” She went on to explain about her eighto’clock date, then wanted to kick herself for calling it a date.
“Saturday night at eight, huh?” murmured her sister. “Sounds interesting. Better wear that slinky new-”
“Forget it, sis. The object here is to find out what he wants, not keep him hanging around for, uh, whatever.”
“Hmm,” Jill murmured cryptically, then changed the subject again. “How’s the weather up there?”
“Great for the beach. Hot, not a cloud in sight.”
“Hah! You don’t know hot until you’ve been in Florida in July. But listen, Randi. David was watching the weather channel, and—”
She broke off, saying, “Hold on, sis. It’s the guys. They’re back from their pig-out at the ice-cream parlor. Here, Matt, say hello to your mom.”
“Hi, Mom!” Matt’s voice bubbled with energy. “Wait’ll ya hear what we been doin’!”
Randi grinned as she listened to her son’s excited description of the gooeyest ice-cream sundae ever invented. He sounded like he was having a ball. He went on to describe his morning, which included an encounter with Goofy and then Mickey himself.
“He sure is big for a mouse, Mom. So’s Goofy, but he’s a dog. I wish we had a dog, even if it couldn’t be big as Goofy. He’s ‘most as tall as Travis.”
Wincing, Randi manage an enthusiastic “Wow!”
“Yeah, wait’ll you see! We got pitchers ‘n’ everything.”
“Pictures, huh?” said Randi, storing away his words about a dog and thinking of Ulysses. She said nothing to Matt about Travis’s pup of course, but promised herself to give it more thought. “Shots of you with Goofy and Mickey?”
Wild Honey Page 12