by Marlie May
Since today was all about experiencing the fun things in life, I waved Dag closer.
Tasting something someone else was eating, especially when they offered it to you with their eyes focused on your mouth, heightened the intimacy of the moment. If there could be much intimacy with a little boy giggling nearby.
I licked tentatively at first. Because this was bacon mixed with chocolate. Deciding boldness won all, I took a bigger bite and closed my eyes to savor the salty-sweet flavors bursting on my tongue. “Mmm.”
“Ye like?”
Opening my eyes, I grinned. “I do.” I extended my raspberry toward him. “I think we should trade.”
He chuckled. “Never.”
Mischief took over. “You might like the raspberry better. Try it. You’ll like it.” Leaning across his thighs, I tried to grab his hand, but he held it beyond my reach. I leaped up, astonished to hear myself giggling. That hadn’t happened in a long time. After nearly landing in his lap—and kind of wishing I had—I found myself trapped between his thighs. A decent place to be, all things considered. “Dag, please?”
“Aye, lass, I’ll trade.” The light in his eyes melted my insides faster than my ice cream. “In exchange for a kiss.”
My eyes shot to his mouth, and I eased nearer, prepared to give into his, no my every desire. This man was irresistible.
A clump of ice cream covered with a rainbow of sauces slid off Timothy’s spoon and plopped on the sidewalk, splattering my leg.
“Oops,” Timothy said.
Regret filled Dag’s eyes. “How about a kiss IOU, lass?”
“I can do that.”
His grin widened, and he offered his cone. “Then, ye have yerself an ice cream.”
“I’ll share it if you want.”
“I want.” Damn, but his smoldering gaze set my limbs on fire.
“Can we go to the park now?” Timothy glanced between Dag and me, head tilted.
That was right. I still stood between Dag’s thighs. His kilt had ridden up, but not high enough to fully assess the situation. What did he wear underneath?
We dumped the rest of Timothy’s sundae in the trash and walked across the street to the park. Since we shared, the maple-bacon cone was gone in no time.
Hyped-up on sugar, Timothy ran laps around us, until he wore himself out and slumped on a swing. With a grin, Dag lifted him and whispered something in his ear.
Timothy squealed. “Go, go!”
Easing him even higher, Dag released the boy. Down he went, then up so high, his laughter flew to the clouds.
After Timothy had floated long enough to reach China—powered by Dag’s steam—Dag staggered and groaned. “I’m wiped out kid. I’ve gotta sit down.” When he hunched over and rubbed his lower back, moaning like he was a thousand-years-old, Timothy leaped onto him, trying to take him to the grass. The boy would have to rally a football team if he wanted to accomplish that task. Eventually, Timothy abandoned the challenge of scaling Castle Dag and raced to the sand pit. Turning before he could climb onto a mini backhoe, he came barreling back to plow into Dag’s legs, making Dag shift from the impact.
Gazing up with pure adoration shining on his face, Timothy said, “I’m havin’ fun, Uncle Dag.” Arms pumping, he ran back to the mini equipment.
I’d long since abandoned trying to keep up with a little kid and flopped onto the grass. My sugar rush suggested I lay back and stare at the clouds.
“Huh.” Dag watched Timothy with a half-smile on his face. “He’s a cool kid.”
I shaded my eyes. “He loves you.”
“Love, huh?” Dag paused, frowning. “I've barely spent any time with him. He doesn't really know me.” He dropped down beside me and extended his legs in front of him. Shredding a blade of grass, he cricked his head my way. “Think Timothy would like to go fishing with me sometime?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” I said. “But I bet he’d love to spend more time with you.”
Dag nodded as he studied the limp green strands in his hands. “Maybe I will. It was something my dad and I…” He sighed.
My curiosity sparked.
Obviously, something bad had gone on between them in the past.
Dag
While Timothy occupied himself with excavation to the middle of the Earth, I settled on my side, near Lark, who lay on the grass, her gaze focused upward.
Leaning my head on my hand, I lifted a blade of grass and trickled it down her cheek to her neck, continuing to the top of her sundress. No mistaking the quiver she released. The gesture drove all rational thought from my mind.
“I think I’m calling in that IOU, now, lass.” I rose to brace my palms on either side of her shoulders.
Her hands tightened on my arms, and her eyes glowed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Ask?” I leaned closer. “Sometimes, I also take.”
She released that moan I craved. Smoothing my lips along hers, I soaked in the feel of her. Like always, my pulse pounded in my chest. But while I wanted to let go, to completely delve into the feel of her beneath me, I held myself in check. Timothy could run over to us at any time.
But damn, did she feel good. Her sweet kisses rivaled tasting her full-on fire. What would it be like to have her naked, rising up while I sunk down?
I eased back in her embrace and savored the dazed look on her face.
Her lips parted, and she sighed just for me.
With an unsteady breath, I angled myself around on the grass to rest my head on her belly. She stroked my hair. No reason I couldn’t stay here forever.
“Can I beg another favor, lass?” I asked.
She laughed. “Pushin’ it, aren’t you?”
I pulled Mom’s list from my pocket and handed it to her.
She squinted. “Looks like you’re planning a wedding.”
“My parents are celebrating their thirtieth in October and Mom talked me into helping. It’s a surprise.”
“That’s sweet. Imagine, thirty years together.” Her brows knit. “How old are you, anyway?”
I hadn’t told her? “Thirty in August.”
Her chuckle lifted me all the way to the sky. “Cutting it close, weren’t they?”
“I can’t imagine why they waited so long.” Why hadn’t Dad married her the second they found out?
“Hey,” she said. “At least they got married.” She continued to twist my curls around her fingers and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by how awesome it felt. The sensation drove everything from my mind.
“About that list,” she said.
“I’m lost. Can you help me? You’re the organized one. Look what you’ve done with the Highland Games.”
“Hmm.”
Tilting my head, I studied her expression, unsure if I’d impressed or offended her with my comment. Her eyes had darkened to sapphire, leading me to believe it was the former.
Something crazy inside me suggested I could have real feelings for this woman. Unsettled by the emotions flying through me, I sat up.
Lark rose as well and studied the paper. “Let’s see. Catering. Charity, of course.”
Why hadn’t I thought of my cousin?
“Flo’s will loan you an arbor if you let her do the flowers.”
The local florist.
“Honeysuckle could prove a challenge, but if you buy plants on eBay and start them in your backyard, you’ll have good growth by that time. I doubt they’ll be blooming, though. Wrong time of year.”
“You amaze me. Truly.” I couldn’t contain my grin.
Color rose into her face. “We rented the tents, tables, and chairs for the Games from a place in Lewiston. I’ll text you their number.”
I nodded.
“Hubbard’s Bakery will do the cake, of course.”
“Why of course?”
Her eyebrows rose. “They’re the best bakery in the area.”
“Oh, that of course.”
The half-smile she gave begged me to kiss her lips until it re
ached full-bloom.
But I wasn’t totally useless here. “I’ll get the beer from Roan. He buys alcohol by the pallet.”
“Perfect, then.”
Color me grateful, because Lark had an answer for each line on the list.
“Maybe your dad’s employees will provide the music.” She ticked the next item. “Assuming your parents like classical.”
“A stringed quartet will work.” My father would be pleased.
“Well, well,” someone said from behind me. “If it isn’t our eldest, hanging out at the park.”
Mom and Dad approached.
Just like that, my mood dimmed.
“We got ice cream and then saw you here,” Dad said. “Decided to come over and say hi.”
I stood, and he delivered a hug.
The most astonishing thing, I nearly hugged him back.
Before I could give in to the urge, however, my father stepped back. Glancing down my front, he frowned. “What are you wearing?”
No reason my face should overheat. I shouldn’t care what Dad thought of my clothing. “It’s a long story.”
Dad’s laugh burst out. “Guess I’d love to hear it, but it can wait, right?” His gaze skimmed to Lark, who came over to stand beside me.
“Yeah.”
Mom kissed my cheek. Her eyes latched onto Lark like she was drowning and Lark was the sole life preserver in sight. “And who might this be?”
I introduced Lark to my parents, and they shook hands. Well, Dad did. Mom kissed Lark’s cheek and then turned her eye-driven spotlight at me. I could almost see her picking out china. I guessed it had been a while since they’d seen me with anyone.
“Uncle Dag, come look at my fort,” Timothy yelled from the sand pit.
The over-eager grandmother’s heart that hovered inside Mom zoned in on the boy. She drifted toward Timothy as if pulled by an invisible string.
Dad sat on a park bench and patted the seat beside him, which Lark took. “You live local, Lark?”
“Piney Meadows.”
“I know the place. Decent part of town.” Approval glinted in his eyes when he glanced at me.
I moved closer in case Lark needed me to save her. Not that Dad would run her through the potential-girlfriend wringer, but Dad on the hunt about anything could be intimidating, as I well knew.
“You work,” Dad said.
I expected the statement to irritate Lark, but she just laughed. “At a diner. But I got my business degree recently, and I’m itching to use it.”
Dad tapped his temple and nodded toward me. Yeah, she was smart. Smart enough not to miss the obvious. And smart enough not to be offended by it.
“Where have you applied so far?” he asked.
She named more than twenty businesses, impressing me with her motivation. With luck, she’d have a full-time job soon. I hated thinking about her scrimping.
“Another place to consider is the supermarket. I’m friends with the owner of the Sure Save and could put a good word in for you if you want.”
Lark blinked. “That’s kind of you.”
“Just helping out my son’s friend.”
The smile Lark gave me caused a tight feeling in my throat I couldn’t define. The surge of gratitude I felt for my father surprised me even more. Would it be so horrible to let him inside my walls again?
Dad turned to fully face Lark. “You know, I might have a position open in the office.”
“Really?” Eagerness lit her voice. “Is it in management?”
“Dad,” I growled, concerned my father was taking this too far.
“What? Your mom’s been begging me to cut back. Lark here seems ready-made for the position.”
Maybe. And maybe he was leading her on, which wasn’t fair of him. Putting in a good word with a friend was one thing, but making up a job so she’d find employment? Not playing nice.
“Why don’t you come by my office next week and we’ll talk?” Dad surprised me further by handing her a business card he pulled from his wallet. “Know much about construction?”
“I can learn.”
Dad grinned at me and tapped his head again.
I slanted my eyes. Who was this person I was related to, but couldn’t quite figure out? How could Dad know Lark would fit in with his office staff so fast? I’d known I wanted to go out with her almost instantly, but that was different.
From the big smile on Mom’s face when she returned, and her tight grip on Timothy’s hand, she was prepared to take him home. Adopt him, if possible. Since he was her sister’s only grandchild, there wasn’t much chance of that. The wind picked up her hair, scattering the long strands like fresh-spun gold. With her pink cheeks and the excited gleam in her eyes, she didn’t look any older than Lark.
“We’re going to head out now.” Mom strode over and hugged Lark. When she pulled away from their embrace, she nodded at me.
Dad also enveloped Lark in a hug, doling out one that rivaled the kind he gave me. She grunted and gave me a bemused look.
Mom leaned close and whispered, “I have a feeling this one might be a keeper.”
Keeping her might be difficult, because, so far, she wasn’t willing to be caught. But, for whatever reason, the thought of being with someone long-term didn’t scare me as much as it used to. Not any longer. “Thanks, Mom.”
Gruffness filled Dad’s voice when he bear-hugged me. “Like this one, son. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
My parents walked toward their car, and I stared after them, my mind a jumble of emotions. Confusion. Concern. A smidgen of hope.
A soft smile rose on Lark’s face. “Your parents are nice. I love your mom.” She snorted. “Your dad’s something else, but he’s sweet, too.”
My insides still scrambled, I frowned. “Yeah.”
She caught my arm before I could turn away. “Why are you like that with him?” Her penetrating gaze dug deep, seeking my secrets.
Not learning this one. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Stilted? I get the idea you don’t like your father much.”
“Things haven’t been good between us for years.” And that fact was unlikely to change. “He did something to my mother I just can’t forgive.”
“I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t understand the wistful tone I heard in her voice. My feelings for my father weren’t that unusual. Everyone had someone in their family they didn’t get along with. I was no different.
“I worked past it ages ago,” I said. “Put it behind me.”
Lark
“I’m going to shower off the eau de french fry permeating my hair,” I said to Paisley a few days later, after finishing a shift at the diner.
“Just got out of the shower myself.” She yawned. “Afternoon shift at the Y.”
Where she manned the front desk. Since the diner was one town over, I always took the truck to work. One of Paisley’s coworkers picked her up and dropped her off in exchange for a few dollars for gas.
I brushed past her on the deck and opened the front door. Inside, Cally hopped out of her basket and approached me with mournful eyes.
“You want to go outside?” I asked.
Cally whimpered, and from the flicks of her tail, I knew I’d nailed it. Breaking my usual rule of only letting the dog out in the fenced-in back yard, I opened the front door. “Will you watch Cally? Keep her away from the road?”
“Sure thing,” Paisley said, stretching out her legs. Lines creased her face, and I could tell she was as tired as I was.
When I walked out onto the deck twenty minutes later, a glass of ice water in hand, I sat in the deck chair beside my sister.
Cally lay panting on the top step. Seeing me, she trotted over to beg for more affection, which I doled out. She dropped to the deck by my feet to doze.
I opened my book and settled back to enjoy some Highland romance before I had to make dinner.
“You have time to talk?” Paisley asked.
; “Sure.” Tucking a scrap of paper inside to hold my place, I set my book on the table and drained my water. Shit, it was hot out. The eighties were for July, folks, not early June. I could only imagine what August would bring.
Paisley filled her lungs and puffed the air out. “I’m not sure how to say this.”
The ominous tone flashed panic through me. “You had lab work the other day, didn’t you?”
Pink cheeks. Did Paisley have a fever? Leaning forward, I tried to gauge her forehead temp with the back of my hand, but she snapped her face back before I made contact.
“Stop it,” she said.
“You feeling okay? No bruises or unexpected bleeding?” My voice rose an octave with each word. Ever since Paisley went into remission, I’d worried her cancer would come back and steal my sister the next time.
“My labs were completely normal. I feel fine. That’s not what I want to talk about.”
“Is this about that guy you went out with a few times? Has he done something stupid?” I slapped my palms on my thighs. “If he hurt you, I’ll track him down and—”
“Leave off Rick and shut up for a minute, would you? He and I aren’t even seeing each other anymore,” Paisley said. “You don’t let a girl get a word in edgewise, do you?”
Deflating into my chair, I waved. “Go for it.”
Paisley nibbled on a hangnail, and then picked at the raw edge. As if we were doing nothing more than hanging out with boxed wine on a lazy afternoon. Which we hadn’t done in forever. I’d have to make the time for that soon. Maybe next week or the one after that. Or when the Highland Games were over.
Paisley scratched her head. And examined her nails again.
“So?” I wanted to grab her shoulders and encroach on her space, demand she spit it out. With some effort, I curbed my unsocial tendencies.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said when we walked home from the Brew House a few weeks ago, and again before you got ice cream with Dag.”
Interesting opening. “And?”
Paisley smacked the arm of her chair. “It’s time for you to stop this.”
“Stop what?”
“Everything. The running, the cooking, the cleaning. Working all kinds of hours, paying all the bills, and mowing our lawn and everyone else’s.”