Bayview Heights Trilogy (48 page)

It was inside the store that he saw them.
Pristine white leather with shiny aluminum blades. Skates worthy of
Hans Brinker. Decorated with a bright red bow, they were displayed
on the wall next to the window. Ignoring them, he crossed to the
counter to get his sneakers and Joey’s boots. While the clerk
ducked into the storeroom, Seth wandered over to the skates again.
From that vantage point, he could see the
Herald
well
enough to know she was still there.

The skates beckoned.

She beckoned.

God, he’d thought he had more willpower than
this.

o0o

LACEY TURNED OFF the computer she’d been
glued to for almost two hours. She’d been trying to block out the
disconcerting image of sultry Monica Matthews fawning over Seth in
the pizza parlor.

“Looks like he found some
fun
,” she
said sarcastically. Her voice echoed through the empty office.

Then she buried her face in her hands for the
second time that day. The bell over the front door tinkled, and she
knew she should check it out. But she didn’t want to. And she was
tired of doing things she didn’t want to do. So she stayed where
she was, hoping whoever was out there would go away.

She sensed the cold first, then looked up.
Standing in front of her was Seth Taylor—gorgeous in a battered
bomber jacket with a festive plaid scarf around his neck. He wore
indecently tight jeans and a navy crewneck sweater. His hair was
mussed and his eyes sparkled. In his hands he held a beautiful pair
of white figure skates tied up with a red bow. Before she could say
anything, he reached down and dragged her out of the chair. “Come
on, let’s go.”

“Go?” she managed to say. “Where?”

“Out to the pond at my house. I put up lights
around it a few years ago.” He pressed the skates into her hands.
“We’re going to have some fun. I’m not letting you work one more
minute today.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“Yes,” he said implacably, “you are.”

She smiled. Then she sank back into the
chair, hugging the skates to her. “These are beautiful, Seth. I
can’t believe you bought them. How did you know my size?”

“From that day at the track when you hurt
your foot. I held a lot of feet when I was a track coach. I guessed
you were about a seven.”

“Six and a half.”

“No problem. I’ll lend you some thick
socks.”

“Seth, I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t
go with you.”

Leaning over, his face still red from the
cold, and his cheek so close she could see a little nick from where
he’d shaved this morning, he braced his hands on the arms of the
chair. “Come on. I promise I won’t touch you.” His eyes dropped to
her lips. “Or do anything else.” He straightened and sighed
heavily. “Look, one of us is probably leaving Bayview anyway, so
this...this feeling...between us can’t go anywhere. We won’t hurt
your grandfather by being together for a few hours. I promise.” He
took a breath and Lacey knew she was not going to be able to resist
him. “Please.” He held out his hand. “Come with me, Lace. Just once
more—let’s have some fun together.”

Mesmerized—and more than a little seduced—
Lacey stood and put her hand in his. “All right,” she said. “Just
once more.”

o0o

LACEY STUCK her foot in a skate and smiled at
the fit. From the bench, she caught a glimpse of Seth, who had
donned his own skates and now watched her put on hers. At five
o’clock, it was already getting dark, but she could see him clearly
in the light from around the frozen pond.

“Want some help?” he asked, his eyes
smiling.

“No, I’ve got it.” She tightened the laces
and tied a knot at the top.

He stood and executed a quick turn. “Ah, it
feels good to have these on again.”

“That’s right, you played club hockey in
college.”

Seth stopped his pivot and looked at her.
“How did you know that?”

Lacey’s heart rate speeded up. “Didn’t you
tell me?”

“No.”

“Maybe Joey did. Or Cassie.”

Seth shrugged. “Probably. But yes, I did
play. And Joey and I hit a few pucks every winter when the pond
freezes.” He surveyed the rink. “That is, we used to until he left
for school.”

Lacey noted the sadness that suffused his
face. “It must be hard to lose your son to adulthood.”

Seth stared at her. “You’ll get a chance to
find out.”

Finished with the skates, Lacey stood up on
them. “Hey, this is supposed to be fun. No depressing talk.”

“I agree.” He inclined his head to the ice.
“Think you still remember how to do this?”

“Are you kidding? Tara Lipinsky, watch
out.”

Lacey dug her toes into the ice, took four
steps on tiptoe, then let the blade flatten. Seth stood on the edge
of the ice watching her.

Her scarf sailed out behind her. As she
skated to the end of the rink, the cold wind bit her face. She
could see fat puffs of breath come from her mouth. A light snow had
started to fall and she stuck out her tongue; the flakes melted on
it. The taste and texture reminded her of all the times her mother
had taken her skating. After Jenny Cartwright died, Philip tried to
re-create the experience for Lacey. Though it hadn’t been the same,
she’d appreciated his effort. She could still see him stumbling
behind her in his newly bought skates.

Philip had done everything he could to make
up for the death of her parents.

And this is how you repay him?

Banishing the guilt-ridden thought, she
looked for Seth. He’d begun to skate, too, and caught up with her.
“You’re pretty good, there.” He fell into an easy rhythm alongside
her. His cheeks ruddy, his nose a little red, he looked healthy and
happy.

“I love this.” They traversed the ice
together. “You’re not bad,” she said idly.

“Not bad?” he answered with mock insult.
“
Not bad?
” He turned and skated backward, effecting the
change in direction without a hitch. Facing her squarely, he said,
“Looks like you need a demonstration. Stay here.

Stopping, Lacey watched as he dug his toes
into the ice to get a strong start. He skated quickly down the
pond, then came back. As he whizzed by her, he turned around and
skated backwards, fast and graceful.

“Good, but not too complicated. A judge would
probably score you five point five.”

He scowled, then skated the length of the ice
again. On his way back he veered off to the side, circled around
and completed three short turns in a row.

“Very graceful,” she said. “Maybe a five
point eight.”

He scowled again. “You’re a hard woman.”

She watched as he skated off, fascinated with
this lighthearted side of him. Returning to her, he focused on a
mound of snow that was piled at the edge of the rink. When he
reached it, he bent his knees, ready to leap into the air.
Unfortunately, his foot caught on the edge and he went sprawling on
the ice.

Lacey could see from where she was that he
wasn’t hurt. After he landed, he sat up, an indignant expression on
his face. He was about ten feet away, but she saw his eyes narrow
on her. “Are you laughing at me?”

She giggled.

“You’re laughing because I fell?” He came to
his knees.

She giggled harder.

“That’s it, woman,” he said, standing up.
Ominously he began to skate toward her.

She caught on and maneuvered herself
backward. He skated faster. As he came toward her, she spun around
and headed the other way.

About twenty feet of pond was in front of
her. She picked up speed, but could hear his skates grating on the
ice behind her, closing in. When she reached the end of the pond,
she knew he’d catch her if she circled around. So instead, she went
off the rink and into the few inches of snow that covered the grass
around it.

After four steps she was tackled from behind.
She fell ungracefully into the snow. His deep laughter resonated in
the still, cold air and so did hers. Both of them flipped to their
backs and stared up into the inky sky. When their laughter finally
subsided, Seth peered over at her.

He’d never seen a lovelier sight. Her woolen
hat scrunched her hair down, but some flaxen strands peeked out
from underneath. He longed to touch them. Her eyes sparkled and a
few snowflakes had gathered on her lashes. He longed to brush them
away. Her cheeks were pink and almost iridescent, her lips full. He
wanted to taste them more than he wanted anything else in the
world.

But he’d promised.

Get up
, he told himself.

He was just finding the willpower when she
said, “Seth.”

There was no mistaking the breathlessness of
the word—or the invitation in it. He anchored himself on one elbow
and leaned over—still not touching her—to brace his arm on the
other side of her. Staring down at her, he said, “I promised.”

The amber of her eyes deepened. “I don’t
care.”

“Yes, sweetheart, you do.”

She shook her head. Raising her right hand to
her mouth, she bit the top of her glove, tugged it off and let it
fall to the ground. Slowly—so slowly he thought he might die—she
lifted her bare hand to his mouth. She outlined it with her
fingertips, tracing a sensuous path that short-circuited his
sanity. All the while she watched him with a sober, sure gaze.
“Kiss me. I want to feel your mouth on mine again.”

The knight in shining armor surfaced from
within him; he shook his head.

“Cover me with your body,” she whispered
achingly. “Just once, I want to feel your weight on me.”

That request dissolved his restraint. Seth
rarely broke a promise, but even divine intervention couldn’t keep
him from obeying her plea. Angling over her, he aligned their
bodies from hip to toe. When his middle met hers, she arched into
him.

Even through layers of thermal underwear and
jeans, he could feel her curves meet him in exquisite harmony. The
sensation was so precious he closed his eyes to savor it. His legs
entangled with hers, their skates cumbersome as they clanged
together. His arms braced on either side of her to take some of his
weight, he let his chest sink into hers. Heat rippled through him,
contrasting vividly with the near-zero weather. Somehow this simple
clothed intimacy seemed a raw act of possession.

Greedily, he stared at her, searching her
face. He studied the small mole to the right of her mouth, the
little upturn of her nose, how delicately her eyebrows arched. Her
lips parted at his slow and sensual perusal. She raised her hand to
his neck and slipped it inside his collar. He shivered. She exerted
a slight pressure. “If you don’t kiss me now, I’ll die.”

He lowered his head—trying to be gentle,
trying to go slowly. Somewhere in his mind, he thought that if this
was all he was ever going to have of her, he had to revel in it.
But when her lips met his, his body took over. He sank into her,
losing himself in the sweet sensation of her mouth, of her tongue
meeting his with almost savage intensity.

She bit his lower lip and he jolted hard
against her. She moaned again and yanked him closer. At one point,
her lips broke away from his and she gave him tiny kisses down his
jaw, on his nose, on the part of his neck she could reach. They
weren’t gentle kisses, though. When he felt tremors go through her,
he dragged his mouth back to hers in a hot tide of desire. He
craved her hungry, needy kisses that weren’t enough. Could never be
enough. In a last coherent moment, he swore silently at their
intrusive clothing.

When he let her go, she looked up at him and
said again, “Seth.’’

He stared at her. How far could he break his
promise to her?

She decided. “Take me up to the house. Build
a fire.”

He struggled for nobility. “Lace, do you know
what you’re—”

She put her bare hand on his mouth and it was
freezing cold on his hot, tender lips. ‘‘I know what I’m
saying.”

Honor battled with desire.

Honor lost.

Slowly, he eased from her and stood. He drew
her up and grasped her hand. Wordlessly, they crossed to the bench.
She sat down, he knelt before her. His fingers trembled—not from
the cold— as he unlaced her skates and fitted her boots back on
her. He made quick work of his own. Still they hadn’t spoken.

Rising, Seth tied each pair of skates
together and slung both sets over his shoulder. He took her hand in
his again and they trudged up the incline. At the top of the hill,
Seth saw a large figure come around the back of the house. He
gripped Lacey’s hand. A few more feet, and Mitch Lansing stepped
into the light.

When they reached him, Mitch said, “Thank God
I found you.”

“What’s wrong?” Seth asked. “It’s not Cassie,
is it?”

“No.” He looked at Lacey. “I’m here in an
official capacity, Lacey. To see you.”

Lacey could feel her heartbeat accelerate.
“Is it Grandpa?”

“No.” Mitch’s face was somber. “It’s your
brother, Kevin.”

LACEY’S KNEES BUCKLED and she sagged against
Seth.

“What happened?” Seth asked as he let go of
her hand and encircled her shoulders with his arm.

“Kevin was hurt in a fight in prison,” Mitch
told them. “He’s conscious and he’s in satisfactory condition. I
have sketchy information on the altercation.”

The wind picked up and whipped Lacey’s scarf
around her face. She shivered.

Seth drew her closer. “Let’s go inside for
the details. You’re freezing out here.”

Leaning heavily on Seth, with Mitch behind
them, Lacey trudged to the back door and into an entryway on the
first floor. In minutes, they were in the kitchen. Lacey stood
immobilized, gripping the large butcher-block table. “He’s okay?
You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Mitch shrugged out of his coat.

Seth reached over and loosened her scarf and
a few buttons on her jacket. “Get this off and sit down.”