by Donna Fasano
Heather: You can get a whole lotta lucky in a few days. Sweet dreams!
Sara just laughed as she set the phone on her nightstand. Heather and Cathy both were absolutely crazy, and thank goodness for that.
Faint sounds of water running came from her unit upstairs. Landon must have decided to take a shower while his dinner was in the oven.
She closed her eyes, imagining herself in the steamy bathroom, inhaling the scent of masculine soap, gliding her fingers over wet, slick skin. There it was again, that heady pulsing at the apex of her thighs, that itch that needed scratching.
Her belly felt firm and flat as she slid her palm downward. What would it feel like to have his hands on her body? She stopped when her fingertips dipped beneath the waistband of her pants.
She groaned, rolled off the mattress and onto her feet. She had to stop this. It was nuts. She’d just met Landon Richards. He was a complete stranger. Then her mom’s words whispered through her head.
It’s nice to have a man around.
That was true. Today had proven it. She’d enjoyed being with him, stranger or not.
So what if he’d only be in town for a few days? Like Heather said, a person could get a whole lot of “lucky” in a few days. Besides, Sara didn’t need a whole lot. It would only take a little bit of lucky to satiate her itch.
The nonsensical thought made Sara’s shoulders shake with laughter as she snatched up her robe and headed toward the hallway bathroom for a shower of her own.
Chapter Six
“Come on in,” Sara called when she heard the soft rap on the back door of her shop, knowing it had to be Landon. Heather wouldn’t have bothered knocking, and Cathy had gone home hours ago. It was too late for deliveries.
“Hey,” he greeted. “I’m finished with the nozzle in the utility room and the water’s back on. Just wanted to let you know.”
“Thanks. It’s almost dark. You missed the sunset.” She offered him a quick glance and then focused her attention on the cupcake she was decorating.
“Yeah, one of the couplings didn’t want to, you know, couple.” He chuckled. “But I finally wrangled the thing under control.”
“You must be starving. How about I buy you dinner?”
She sensed rather than saw him frown.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t,” she told him. “But I want to. I’m sorry Cathy talked you into more plumbing work.”
“Aw, it’s nothing, really. I can install cut-off valves at all the sinks that don’t have one. One each day, six sinks in the house. If I don’t run into any complication, I’ll be out of your hair in a week. If you don’t mind me staying at your place, that is.”
“Nope, don’t mind a bit.” She piped the last dollop of black icing near the center. “There! Done. One last cupcake and I’ll be finished. Then we can go find you something to eat.”
Landon looked at the trays of cupcakes, smiling at her handiwork. “Those are so neat. They look just like little wiry-haired puppy faces. Some kid is going to be very happy.”
Sara picked up the final, bare cupcake in one hand and the bag of white icing in the other. Then she began making squiggles.
“Believe it or not,” she told him, “these are for an adult party. A restaurant owner here in town is throwing a birthday party for his schnauzer tomorrow afternoon. He does it every year. You’ll read about the party in the Dispatch later this week.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Even the mayor will be there.”
Landon laughed, and the deep rumble of it forced Sara to stop her work and look over at him. His brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and she felt a nervous twitter tighten in her belly. The man sure was easy to look at.
“Are you invited?” he asked.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I don’t travel in those circles.”
Sara worked in silence for a few seconds, feeling his gaze on her as she twisted the cupcake one way, then another, in order to get the entire top decorated.
“You’re very talented.”
“It’s all in the wrist.” To prove her point, she flicked perfect curlicues across the cake surface.
His tone lowered as he said, “I can see that.”
She barreled ahead. “Landon, I can do things with buttercream frosting that would blow your mind.”
“I have no doubt.”
A couple of things happened simultaneously; she realized there had been a couple of heartbeats of swollen silence before he responded, and she replayed the words she’d just spoken in her head. She blanched and her hands went still. Then her lips parted, but no words came out. She set down the bag of icing and the cupcake on the stainless steel counter and tried to smile, but failed.
She blinked and gazed into his eyes, saw the desire smoldering there.
“That came out sounding much more, um…” She searched the air for a proper word, licking her lips and drawing her brows together. “Eh, ah, inappropriate than I intended.”
One corner of his mouth tipped upward. “I think it sounded perfectly appropriate, Sara.”
The air left her lungs at the sound of her name. How did he do that? Say her name so softly, yet make it sound so rich, and resonant, and full of emotion?
The oddest feeling churned in her chest, a heated giddiness that made it difficult for her to draw breath. Her arms felt shaky, and she set the cupcake on the counter so she could clutch the cold, rounded metal edging. She needed the support, and besides that she hoped to hide the tremble of her hands.
He was attracted to her. Wanted her. She’d have had to be stone-cold unconscious not to recognize it.
Before meeting Landon, she hadn’t thought about touching or being touched in a sexual way for a long, long time. She’d have thought desire was something she’d completely forgotten how to feel. But the human body was an amazing machine. Adrenalin surged and hormones coursed as a hot, greedy need thudded through her. Even as she stood at the island with at least three feet of space between them, she could feel herself being drawn to him like opposite poles of a magnet. The attraction was powerful. Too strong to be denied.
How they came together was anyone’s guess. Had she moved toward him, he toward her? Or had they converged simultaneously? Sara couldn’t be sure.
When she lifted her hands to place them on his chest, she noticed a smear of frosting on the side of her index finger, and she made to pull away so she could wipe her hand on her apron. But Landon captured her wrist and guided her finger to his lips. He slowly ran his tongue along her skin, the wet heat forced her breath to snag in her throat. Then he closed his lips around the pad of her finger and sucked gently.
“Mmmmm.” The low, husky sound reverberated from deep in his chest. “Delicious.”
“Come on now,” she whispered, sensual teasing in the words as she nuzzled his chin with the tip of her nose and then a light touch of her lips, “don’t you think you should share?”
His arms wrapped around her and he kissed her languidly, once, twice, three times, and then he covered her mouth with his, delving his tongue into the soft and willing recesses.
She closed her eyes and reveled in the luscious taste of sugar and butter and vanilla and him. Without thought, she leaned into him, drawing back her shoulders just a little and pressing her breasts into his chest. Oh, to be naked and feel the heat of his bare skin against hers; that would be wonderful. The desire urging her on was all-consuming; she didn’t have time to think about her actions, or to feel embarrassed by her bold behavior. She wanted to taste more of his kisses, she yearned to feel his hands on her body, she hungered for more… so much more.
Reaching around behind her, she tugged at the bow of her apron. All it took was a small arch of her spine and the fabric slid to floor. She nudged it aside with her foot.
Landon’s hands splayed across her back and she was sure he must feel the thundering of her heart beneath her ribs. The kisses he rained on her neck stirred a fever in her. His thick, t
awny hair felt like silk when she combed her fingers through it.
He picked her up and turned, perching her bottom on the edge of the metal counter. The filmy fabric of her full-skirted sundress draped across and between her legs and rode high on her thighs. Instinct had her wrapping her legs around him, and she pulled him up tight against her. The hard length of him bulged beneath the fabric of his jeans, the delicious stiffness snuggling against her throbbing need.
When he looked at her, his dark eyes were dazed.
“My god, Sara, what are we doing?”
The thrilling euphoria had her feeling a little dizzy. She grinned wickedly. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
He swallowed, licked his lips, hungrily searched her gaze. All she could think about was tasting his kiss, his tongue, his skin.
“But we just met yesterday. We barely know each other.” His voice was raspy with passion. “We need to talk. I have things I should tell you. Things you need to know…”
She silenced him with a long, luscious kiss, and when she broke it off, they were both breathing hard.
“And I’m sure there are things I should tell you,” she panted against his wet mouth. “Things like assuring you that I’m not this kind of woman.” She closed her eyes when he kissed her temple. “Usually.” She dragged air into her lungs. “I don’t fall into bed easily.”
They kissed again. And again.
“Things like this don’t happen to me,” she told him.
His skin felt feverish to the touch when she skimmed her fingertips down his cheek, along his jaw, and over the curves of his ears. She kissed his forehead and then kissed his mouth.
Sara felt so turned on, she was uncertain that she could hold off her orgasm until they actually did anything that could truly be called sex.
Dipping his chin, he broke off the kiss, and quickly gazed into her eyes.
“I could say the same thing, Sara.” The words came out sounding like a groan. “But what if this is wrong? What if this is something we’ll regret?”
She heard his questions and knew he was offering her a chance to stop. But even as he said the words, he continued to smooth his hands over her arms and shoulders, and his ravenous gaze never stopped roving over her face.
“If this is a mistake,” she said, “it’s one I want to make. No regrets, Landon. I promise.”
That seemed to be all the permission he needed. The onslaught of his kisses strummed and plucked the strings of her emotions—and the music he created in her was erotic and melodious, like the bluesy strains of slow jazz. He slipped his hands beneath her, scooped her up by cupping her butt in his palms.
He held her against him low enough that she could start working at the buckle of his belt.
“The chair,” she ordered him. “The chair.”
He’d only taken two steps when she said, “Wait. The door. The door.”
He carried her to the back door of the shop and she threw the bolt.
By the time they reached the chair that sat in front of a small desk in the corner of the kitchen, she’d unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans. He set her on her feet long enough for her to slide his trousers down over his hips. A small push on his shoulder propelled him into the chair. Sara wiggled out of her panties and straddled him, not yet sitting but keeping her knees straight. She bent at the waist, skimmed her hands over his muscular shoulders while she planted tiny kisses on his mouth.
A small moan erupted from the back of his throat, and the sound of it churned up a giddy feeling in her. She loved that she could elicit such a reaction in him.
Landon reached out, gliding his fingertips up the sides of her torso and stopping at the perfect spot that allowed him to draw firm circles around her budded nipples with his thumbs. Now it was her turn to gasp breathily, and when she dragged her eyelids open, she saw that his sexy mouth was curled into a small, luscious smile.
If he could make her feel this good while she was still fully dressed—or nearly so, anyway—how delicious would it be if they were totally nude?
The question whispered through her head, but she dismissed it almost before it had formed. She wanted this. Right here. Right now.
He chose that moment to skitter one hand beneath the hem of her dress, slowly gliding his fingers along the inside of her thigh. She was hot and wet and ready for him.
And he was ready for her. In one smooth motion, she gently grasped him, curled her hips, and lowered herself onto his lap.
Their kisses were deep and deliberate as she rocked her hips back and forth, back and forth, against him, slowly at first, and then faster. And faster. His hands had settled around her waist, hers cradled his head.
They convulsed together, their chests heaving as if they had just sprinted the full length of the boardwalk.
“That was wonderful,” she whispered. “Wonderful.”
Slowly, she became aware that something was… off. She frowned as she looked around her. Although they’d begun their lovemaking next to the desk she used to jot down recipes and pay bills, they’d ended the session at least eight feet away by the back door of the shop. The wheels on the chair hadn’t offered a single squeak of warning that they’d been in motion. Then again, maybe they had and Sara simply hadn’t heard it.
“How did we get all the way over here?” she asked, offering him a salacious grin.
“I don’t know.” His dark eyes twinkled with humor. “But I wouldn’t be lying if I said that was the best ride of my life.”
Sara laughed as she hugged him to her.
Chapter Seven
Sara, Heather, and Cathy sat at a table on the outside deck at Fager’s Island where they were enjoying delicious Orange Crushes, a popular cocktail served at the restaurant. The sun hung low in the sky, gilding the stringy lines of clouds with a coppery gold hue. Strains of the live stage act floated out of the building where a local singer crooned his rendition of Georgia, sounding a whole lot like Ray Charles.
Four days had passed since Sara and Landon had locked themselves inside her shop and engaged in delectable, soul-satisfying sex on her desk chair. On her desk chair. The idea made her press her lips together to stifle the grin that threatened to take over her mouth even now. They’d spent every day, or at least a good portion of them, together. Sara woke up each morning with a happy anticipation that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“So,” Cathy said, leaning toward Sara, “what’s going on between you and Landon?”
Sara shifted her gaze to watch Landon at the bar where he was waiting for the beer he’d ordered. He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“Going on?” she said in response to Cathy’s question. She inserted as much innocence as she thought she could get away with. These women knew her too well for her to tell them an outright lie.
“Oh, please.” Cathy sucked on her straw.
“Give it up,” Heather demanded. “We want to know everything.”
Sara looked from one to the other. “What makes you think there’s anything going on?”
She knew deflecting would only last so long. They’d been friends for too many years for them to allow her to get away with it.
“I’ll tell you what makes us think something is going on.” Cathy set her glass on the table. “Reason number one, he installed a cut-off valve at your sink first.”
Sara waved off Cathy’s words. “That’s just because I took him to the hardware store to begin with. Plus…” She smirked. “I keep him supplied with fresh-baked cookies.”
“I fix him breakfast every morning,” Cathy pointed out, saying it in a tone that clearly conveyed she was confused about why Landon would find her pancakes and fluffy eggs second-rate.
“Reason number two,” Heather said, “he’s not getting much plumbing done because the two of you are always off gallivanting to who knows where.”
“Wait a minute.” Sara leaned back and crossed her arms under her breasts. “He’s not your hired handyman. He
doesn’t have to work every single day. So what if he’s a little behind schedule? He has limited working hours. And if he wants to ride with me to deliver desserts, it should be no concern of yours. He’ll install your shut-off valves soon enough. Besides, the man’s on vacation. I’m only trying to show him the sights.”
They both looked dubious.
Heather stirred her drink. “Reason number three. You two have been grinning like deliriously happy monkeys for days.”
“We have not,” Sara objected. “And I’m insulted that you’d compare us to wild animals.”
But the memory of their lusty love-making made Sara realize Heather’s description might not have been too far off the mark.
“Reason number four,” Cathy said, “you invited Landon to a Girl’s Night.”
This accusation was a little harder to defend. There was almost nothing more sacred than Girl’s Night Out. The three of them had enjoyed dinner out together at least once a month, and nothing had ever intruded on their habit—not business, not boyfriends, not husbands, nothing.
“Landon doesn’t know anyone in town,” Sara began, but she knew that wasn’t going to fly even before the words left her mouth. He was a grown man, fully capable of occupying his free time all on his own. So she took another tack. “Every tourist should experience a sunset at Fager’s Island at least once.”
Almost immediately, both Heather and Cathy acquiesced with a silent nod.
“Everything is fine,” Sara assured them. “He and I are just friends.” She couldn’t go any further than that without blatantly lying to them.
She lifted her gaze toward the bar and watched Landon as he accepted his beer and turned to walk toward them. The look he gave her ignited something deep in her belly.
“Reason number five,” Heather said, her voice low, “friends don’t look at each other like that.”
Sara blinked and her mouth went dry. “Like what?”
Cathy gasped. “Oh, my God. You’re sleeping with him.”
“I am not sleeping with him,” Sara insisted. “I’m sleeping at Mom’s. You know that.”