Loving Lydia (Atlantic Divide) (5 page)

Aaron wore proper boys’ jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. He didn’t want any of that girly stuff on his jeans. He was a real man. His mother was wearing a pair of faded designer jeans with rips and holes all the way down, showing a little bit of flesh here and there.

As he watched them approach, Sam thought she needed to get herself a decent pair of jeans and put her own tears in them, instead of paying a fortune for some designer crap that had been beaten into submission way before being sold. His own jeans were dark down the seams, close to their original color, and faded almost white down the front of his thighs and his backside, where he always rubbed the sweat and dirt off his hands. Any rips in the material had been made from honest-to-God work. His boots were thick and battered leather that he rubbed glycerin saddle soap into and oiled a few times a year. The scars on them were evidence of the hard work he did every day on the ranch.

He looked down at Lydia’s cute little designer ankle boots made of some soft kid leather or something and decided they would probably last as long as her daughter’s sneakers.

He turned and peered toward the other side of the corral as Carl led the small pony out of the stables. Carl was as old as the Earth, his skin weathered so much that it was dark brown with dry wrinkles covering his entire face. The back of the old man’s hands were veined and as tough as old leather. His legs were bowed with years of hard riding, and he was probably six inches shorter than he had been when he was a younger man.

Not that Sam ever remembered Carl as a young man; he’d been old when he taught Sam to ride. Carl’s ancient eyes were as dark as nutmeg and as sharp as knives. He was gruff and sour at times, but as intuitive and gentle as a nursemaid with his horses. His patience was endless when teaching kids to ride.

Sam leaned back on the four-bar fence and watched Carl proceed with the lesson. Just as every kid before them had been, Aaron and Rosie were as fascinated with the old boy as they were with the pony, and like every kid before them, they weren’t allowed on the pony until they knew a little about it and how to treat it. It didn’t matter how young the child, the important lesson of how to treat a pony came first.

Lydia stood a few feet away from Sam, her slender arms leaning on the fence, her chin in her hands. He let his eyes wander. She seemed so damned young to him with her hair tied up in a ponytail and no make-up on. A classic beauty, he already knew how soft her skin was, itched to touch it again. She had a lovely mouth, and while she stood with her attention on the lesson, she looked so relaxed and at ease, a small smile playing around her lips. His eyes trailed over the smooth arch of her eyebrows and down her long, straight nose. But it was her eyes that fascinated him, for as young as she was, her eyes were filled with such sadness, pain, experience, and love that Sam wanted to know it all. He wanted to know her past; he wanted to be part of her future. The wariness in her eyes warned him not to move too fast.

As he watched her, she turned her head in his direction and her eyes met his. He smiled with the thought that he might saunter over and flirt a little, but as he pushed off the fence, he saw her eyes turn wary, so he deliberately walked forward to the large horse he had tethered in the corner and swung himself into the saddle. He kicked him into a slow walk, and as he passed by the pony, Carl swung Aaron up for Sam to catch hold of and place in front of him in the saddle. The old man then turned and put Rosie on the back of the pony.

Between them, their movements were so smooth and practiced, it was obvious they had worked together all of Sam’s life.

Lydia looked fascinated as she watched them for almost an hour. Sam appreciated that she trusted two virtual strangers with the most precious things in her life. It was obvious she wasn’t a woman who trusted easily, and when it came to the safety of her children, she’d been vigilant so far, but he realized she seemed quite comfortable and relaxed watching as Carl and he swapped the children over every so often so that they didn’t get restless.

By the time their lesson had ended, Lydia sat on the top rung of the fence, more relaxed than he’d seen her so far. Her face was lifted to the sun, and a small smile played across her lips as a gentle breeze ruffled her pretty blonde hair. No one had spoken to her in all that time, and he imagined she was enjoying the peaceful feeling of liberation.

The twins ran across to her as the corral began to fill with more ranch hands, and Sam handed his horse over to a young man who led it back to the stables. He glanced over at Lydia and was pleased to see her respond to his smile as he started to saunter toward her.

“Mummy, Mummy, Sam’s going to ride a big, wild horse.” Rosie’s voice was high and excited as she slipped through the bars of the fence to the other side. Aaron gave his best cool cowboy swagger and leaned against the fence like he’d seen Sam do earlier, crossing his arms high over his chest.

“Slide on through the fence now, Aaron, like I said. We don’t want the horse catching you with his hooves. This one’s a real big one and fast too.” Sam ruffled the child’s hair before making sure he slipped through the other side of the fence.

“Mummy, Sam said he needs a good luck kiss so he doesn’t fall off the wild horse,” Rosie trilled, her eyes huge and full of appeal. “I gave him a kiss already, but he said he needed a kiss from a pretty lady to make sure his luck holds, seeing as it’s a big wild horse … and mean too.” She smiled proudly up at her mother. “I told him to come over and you would give him a kiss, ’cos you wouldn’t want him falling off that big, ugly thing.”

As Lydia’s startled, green eyes met his own, Sam moved in closer so that he stood between her legs. He placed his hands on the top of her thighs and grinned up at her.

Lydia flicked an anxious glance around the corral as the interest from the other ranch hands turned to them. If she didn’t give him a swift kiss, she was going to embarrass both herself and him.

He had her cornered, didn’t see that he had given her any option, and the thought had him grinning up at her as she cast her eyes around the corral.

He felt the heat of her thighs through her jeans as he gave a gentle squeeze to get her attention back.

“Hey, pretty lady.” He had to look up slightly at her as she perched on the fence. Her mouth was almost level with his nose. He tipped his head back and grinned some more, biting his tongue trying not to laugh at her wide, frantic eyes. “How about a good luck kiss for a brave soul?”

She held still so long that he wondered if she was going to make him look foolish. He could feel his smile waver as he held his breath and waited for her to make a move. If she would only dip her head and place her lips on his cheek, it would be a huge step forward and would save him a ribbing from the boys.

Lydia raised a hand and brushed a stray hair back from her face, and then brought the same hand down to rest on his cheek, bringing her other hand up to cradle his face. Christ, he had no idea she was actually going to touch him. Her cool fingers delicately rested on his face, and his pulse shot through the roof. His heart hammered in his chest as she took her own sweet time while she decided whether to kiss him or not. He’d thought it would be amusing to corner her, but it appeared she’d turned the tables on him now. She’d wiped the smile off his face as she studied his lips like it was a life or death situation. She stared at his mouth for so long that he shifted uncomfortably and moved in closer so that she didn’t have far to go.

It was just a kiss. A brief, innocent kiss.

For one split second he imagined a light of devilment glinted in her eyes as she touched her tongue to her bottom lip and almost made him beg.

Rosie clapped and Aaron stood quiet and serious as Lydia leaned toward him. Sam slowly closed his eyes, almost shuddering as her soft lips met his harder ones with a gentle pressure that she held for a moment, and that devil he suspected was inside her obviously became too much of a temptation.

Her lips parted and her cool, sweet tongue swept lightly across his closed lips.

His eyes shot open, and before she could draw in a breath, he snatched her off the fence and into his arms. His mouth, hot and hungry, captured hers as he allowed himself to indulge in a deep sensuous kiss, sweeping his own tongue into her mouth, tasting her. Slowly he pulled back before she had the opportunity to withdraw. Her eyes were still wide open, her breath shallow and quick, and he smiled as he let her body slide back down his until her feet touched the floor.

He ignored the whooping and catcalls from the boys as her eyelashes fluttered over shocked, dilated pupils and she stared up at him. He leaned forward, placed his lips above her ear, and whispered.

“Lydia, could you just hold still a little longer ’cos I’m not sure I can get on that horse now.”

He chuckled, releasing her easily as she gasped and stepped back out of the circle of his arms, still staring. As he walked toward the black stallion they’d brought into the corral, he heard Rosie’s piping voice.

“Sam’s never going to fall off that big wild horse now, Mummy.”

He didn’t know what had possessed her to touch her tongue to his lips; she probably had thought to tease him. He wanted to laugh at the way she had reacted.

She’d expected him to jerk back in surprise, but he’d grabbed her instead, and she hadn’t resisted. She hadn’t resisted one bit; her lush little body had stayed totally relaxed against his. He suspected if he’d carried on kissing her, she would have let him, despite the fact her children and a whole host of strangers were looking on with interest. But he hadn’t taken the chance.

She tasted sweet. Sweeter than he’d ever imagined. He knew how her presence affected him, but when he’d stood between her thighs and she’d gazed down at him, the blood had hammered so loud through his head he thought a herd of horses was headed toward them.

He’d desperately wanted her to make the first move, and he’d expected a brief cool touch of her lips on his, but when her tongue had slid over his lips, every drop of blood that had hammered through his head had rushed south and almost brought him to his knees.

If she’d known what he was thinking of doing to her, she would have run. He’d known she would, and so he’d let her go. Glancing over at her, he realized it was the best thing he could have done. She stood on the other side of the fence, her fingers touching her mouth, her eyes wide and thoughtful. Easy does it.

* * * *

It wasn’t until breakfast the next morning when Jack’s partner and deputy sheriff, Bill, had called to pick him up for duty that Lydia’s quieter child decided to open his mouth and reveal to the world several matters Lydia would have preferred remain private.

Just as Sam poured himself another cup of coffee, Aaron’s quiet, gentle voice interrupted the adults.

“Do you need Mummy to give you another kiss to keep you from falling off the horse today, Sam?”

He didn’t quite bobble his coffee so much as spill a little of the hot liquid over the side, scalding his hand as he turned to face the youngster. Lydia was engrossed in ripping up a slice of toast on her plate. Kate stared at her younger sister, one cool eyebrow raised in case she caught her eye. Bill snorted loudly.

“Hell, I haven’t heard that one since I was ten or so. My grandpa used to say it to all the little girls, and then burn ’em with his whiskers.” Sam calmly slid a look across the room at Lydia, well aware of Bill’s sudden interest. As he did, Lydia glanced up at that precise moment and smiled bright and saccharine sweet around the room.

“I think Sam has enough good luck to last him several months, Aaron, so I’m sure he doesn’t need me to kiss him ever again.”

Bill snorted a little louder and muttered under her breath, “Boy’s a goner if you ask me.”

No one needed to ask Bill, although how she knew anything about love was a mystery. With a man’s name and a teenage boy’s attitude, closely protected by her all-male cousins, Bill seemed to lead a solitary life, and as far as anyone knew, she had never so much as dated.

Sam had to admire Lydia’s quick recovery and listened with amusement as his brother tried to distract the room at large away from the subject of kissing habits.

Jack launched into the problems their cousin was having with their fourteen-year-old daughter, who was desperate to have a tattoo emblazoned on her butt.

“So, Shelly says to her, ‘When you’re old enough to know what it is you want, where you want it, and why you want it there, then we will have this discussion again. In the meantime, you don’t go near a tattooist, or I will ground you until you are old and gray.’” Jack chuckled as he glanced around the room, but Sam noticed Kate was silent, rubbing her stomach as she studied her glass of milk. Lydia tore up another piece of toast.

“Mummy has a tattoo.” Aaron’s sweet little voice piped up again in the quiet of the room. His mother heaved a sigh, and his twin sister pulled herself up straight to attention.

“It’s a pretty picture,” Rosie said, smiling proudly, looking at her mummy from under her eyelashes.

Sam cocked his head to one side and contemplated Lydia from across the room.

Bill hooted with derision.

“What you got there, honey? You got yourself a little tattoo?”

Lydia glanced up at her, and then shook her head and gave a shy smile as Rosie bounced with excitement on her chair. Curious, Sam stared at Lydia, who looked as though she’d just resigned herself to a fate worse than death. He thought it might be fun to give the child a little push in the right direction.

“I reckon a cute little butterfly, right on your shoulder,” he guessed.

“I think a little fairy just at the top of your a…”

“Bill!” Jack warned.

“No, my mummy has a big picture.” No longer able to contain her excitement, Rosie leaped up from the table with enthusiasm, arms spread wide to grab everyone’s attention.

Lydia glanced at Kate, shook her head, and slowly closed her eyes as though she waited for the axe to fall.

“It’s really big,” Rosie declared in a deep, serious voice, much to Sam’s amusement. Running her left hand from under her left armpit, she smoothed all the way down her body, over her skinny little hips and the top of her thigh, across the left side of her bottom, and back around to the center of her belly as she wriggled like a little snake while her hand wound its way down her body.