Ready for Love (7 page)

“Someone to share this view with. Someone to keep me warm on cold winter nights. Someone to talk to.”

“You don’t like to talk,” Sydney said, teasing him even though his words and the yearning she heard in them moved her.

“I like talking to you.”

The statement hung in the air between them, charged and heavy.

“I like talking to you, too.”

“I think I talked more when I was with you than I have in all the years since.”

“Luke—”

He seemed embarrassed by the confession, as if he’d said more than he’d meant to. “Ready to eat?”

After the delicious—and filling—dinner, Luke invited her to take a walk on the beach.

Sydney hesitated, not certain it was wise to revisit the place where they’d often made love.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Did I ruin that for you, too?”

“Nah. Nothing could ruin the beach for me. I’m there almost every day.” He extended a hand her. “Come with me?”

Sydney couldn’t think of a good reason not to, so she took his hand and swallowed the swell of emotion that came with taking the familiar pathway to the stairs.

Luke kept a firm grip on her hand as she followed him down steep stairs that brought back so many memories.

“I used to wonder if your mother knew what we were doing down here.”

Luke guided her off the stairs and onto the beach but didn’t release her hand. The tide was out, leaving them a wide expanse of beach. “She knew.”

“Why do you say that?” Sydney asked, shocked and embarrassed as they passed the groove in the dunes where they’d hidden from the world as teenagers.

“Because I told her.”

“You
told
her? Are you
crazy
? Who tells their mother that stuff?”

Shrugging, he laughed at her dismay. “We talked to each other about everything. Don’t forget—she was only twenty years older than me. She wasn’t so far removed from her own teenage years that she couldn’t remember what it was like to be in love for the first time.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t know then that you were telling her everything.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, his face alight with amusement she could barely see in the waning daylight.

“First of all, you wouldn’t have gotten any more, and second, I never would’ve been able to face her.”

“Don’t be silly. She loved you.”

“I loved her, too. I was so sad to hear she’d passed away.”

“It was a rough time. She died far too young.”

“Yes.”

“I never regretted staying here with her, if you wondered.”

“It never occurred to me that you would. I know how close you always were. Of course I didn’t know just
how
close…”

Laughing, he released her hand to bend and pick up a flat stone that he sent skimming across the calm surface of the water. “You were close to your mom, too.”

“Not as close as you were to yours. I’m almost thirty-six, and I’ve still never had a conversation with her about sex.”

Luke picked up a stick that he tossed for Buddy, who ran into the small waves to get it. “I bet she knew what we were up to when we were kids.”

“Which is probably why she went to such great lengths to keep us apart.”

“They couldn’t stand me.”

“Oh, Luke, they didn’t dislike you. They hated seeing me serious about a boy when I was so young. I imagine I would’ve been the same way with my kids.”

“You would’ve been more tolerant after what we went through.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you ever think. . .”

“What?”

“About having more kids. Someday.”

The query sent a ripple of anxiety through her. “I’m getting kind of old to start all over again.”

“You’re a regular senior citizen.”

She tried to give him a playful shove but ended up with his arm tight around her, engulfed in the scent of soap and citrus that was so Luke. He’d never been one to wear the expensive cologne Seth had favored.

“So do you think about it?” Luke asked.

“I have. At times. I just can’t imagine what a freak show I’d be, worried all the time that something would happen again.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Do you know anyone, anyone in your whole life, who’s had what happened to you happen to them?”

“No,” she said softly. “I can’t say I do.”

“Neither do I. You’re all done with epic tragedy. Now you get to live in peace, knowing the worst that life has to offer is behind you.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way before and had to admit the idea brought comfort. “I sure hope you’re right.”

“Want to take the boat out on the pond?”

Startled by the sudden change in conversation, she looked up at him. “Now? It’s getting late.”

“Perfect for stargazing.”

She remembered how he knew every constellation and the story behind each one.

“We can do it another time,” he said.

Sydney decided she wasn’t ready to go home. Not yet. “Now is fine.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, and they turned back the way they’d come. With the light of a half moon guiding them, they climbed the stairs and crossed the yard to the path that led to the pond and Luke’s old rowboat. He helped her in and got her settled before he lifted Buddy into the bow. Pushing the boat off the sand, Luke hopped in and reached for the oars.

Sydney let her head fall back as she studied the sky above and enjoyed the smooth glide of the old wooden boat through the flat-calm water. She brought her eyes down from the heavens to study the play of muscles visible through Luke’s T-shirt as he rowed.

“I love it out here at night,” he said after a long period of comfortable silence. “It’s so busy all day, but then the sun goes down and it becomes the calmest place on the island.”

“That’s because all the boaters are in the bars.”

He chuckled. “True. Ready for some stargazing?”

“Whenever you are.”

Luke let the oars go idle and arranged two cushions on the floor of the boat. He guided her to sit between his legs, resting against his chest with his arms around her. “Comfortable?”

“Very.” And yet so
un
comfortable, too.

“Let’s see what you remember.” He pointed to a constellation.

She tipped her head back to use his shoulder as a pillow. “Orion.”

“Good,” he said, trailing a finger over her neck. “How about that one?”

Sydney swallowed hard as his touch sent goose bumps cascading down her arms and legs. “Big Dipper.”

“A plus.”

Sydney laughed, even though he was making her crazy with what he was doing to her neck with just the tip of his finger against her skin. “Those are the easy ones.”

“All right then, how about that one?”

“Cassiopeia.”

“I’m impressed.”

Sydney turned her head so she could see him. “I had a good teacher.” She reached up to touch his face, which was warm and smooth. “You shaved.”

“Huh?”

“After work. You shaved.”

“Yeah, so?”

“You always shaved in the morning.”

“Still do, most of the time.”

“Why the change in routine?”

“Because,” he said, nuzzling her cheek, “if I was lucky enough to get this close to you tonight, I didn’t want to burn your soft skin.”

“Oh,” she said, breathless as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. “That was nice of you.”

“You smell so good. Just like I remember.”

Sydney tilted her head to give him better access to her neck.

His arms tightened around her, bringing her even closer to him.

She reached back to bring his mouth down on hers.

The night before, on the deck of the Beachcomber, he’d been all about restraint. Tonight, he devoured.

Sydney twisted in his arms, needing to get closer, and the boat took an unsteady dip.

“Whoa,” Luke said, laughing.

Buddy whined from his post in the front, and Sydney couldn’t believe she’d forgotten where they were.

Luke shifted to steady them and brought her into direct contact with his erection. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Sydney wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him, drawing a deep groan from him.

“What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

“Yes,” she said, still breathless from the passionate kiss. “Please.” When she started to return to her seat, he stopped her.

“Stay,” he said. “Right here.” He arranged her so he could keep her close but still row.

The movement of the boat, the play of his body wrapped around hers as he rowed and the feel of his lips on her neck combined to make her burn for him. She rested her hand on his leg. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, her hand traveled from his calf to his knee, relearning him as it went.

“We’ll be going in circles if you keep that up,” he said gruffly.

She withdrew her hand. “Oh.”

“That wasn’t a complaint.”

Sydney smiled at the restraint she heard in his tone. Being with him like this reminded her of those long-ago summers when she’d had not a care in the world beyond finding a way to spend as much time with him as she possibly could. The carefree feeling was a welcome change from her reality of late.

The moment the boat bottom scraped against the shore, Buddy bolted.

“He doesn’t have his sea legs,” Sydney said, taking the hand Luke offered and stepping out of the boat.

“Yet.” He tightened his grip on her hand and tugged her into his arms for another of those drugging kisses that stole her breath and left her weak in the knees.

As much as it pained her to admit, no other man had ever made her weak in the knees. Only Luke. Sydney reached up for a handful of soft dark hair as her tongue tangled with his.

All at once, he tore his lips free, grabbed her hand and headed for the path. And then they were running, laughing, breathless. Sydney slid on the dew that had collected on the grass and stumbled. He caught her and twisted to cushion her fall. They landed in a hard thump with her on top of him, encased in strong arms.

“Are you okay?” she asked, still breathing hard.

His fingers tunneled into her hair, drawing her into another kiss. “Better than I’ve been in seventeen years.”

“Luke. . .”

“Kiss me, Syd.”

Right there on the lawn under the moon they made out like the teenagers they’d once been, but with the wisdom of knowing how precarious life and love and desire could be.

Even though she burned for him, he did nothing more than kiss her and hold her and whisper sweet words in her ear that sent more goose bumps to her arms and legs and everywhere in between.

He kissed her as if he’d never get enough, and then he shifted them so she was under him. His kiss slowed from wild and unrestrained to gentle and sweet, which was no less powerful. Sprinkling kisses on her face, eyelids, nose and lips, he looked down at her. “This wasn’t what I was thinking when I suggested something more comfortable.”

She caressed the cheek he’d made smooth for her. “Works for me.”

“Mmm,” he said against her lips. “Me, too.”

“I should probably go home,” she said many minutes later.

“Probably,” he said but made no move to let her up.

Feeling brazen and full of her own power, Sydney slid her hands under his T-shirt and stroked the warm, soft skin on his back.

He trembled and pushed his erection into the V of her legs. “I told myself I shouldn’t rush you,” he said, his lips light against her neck, “that we should go slow and take our time, but God, Syd, I want you. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

“I want you, too. I hope you know that. I just. . . I don’t think. . .”

He kissed her gently, a light touch of his lips to hers. “You’re not ready.”

She shook her head. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize. Please don’t.” More soft, sweet kisses. “We’ve got the rest of the summer.”

Sydney closed her eyes, content for the first time since her life had been shattered, content to let him surround her with his warmth, his comfort, his overwhelming appeal and yes, his love. She had no doubt he still loved her. It was in every look, every touch, every kiss.

“I’m going home after Labor Day,” she reminded him.

“I know.” He trailed kisses from her collarbone to her ear. “Tomorrow night,” he said. “We’ll go out to dinner.”

The phone woke Sydney the next morning, and she was startled to see it was after nine. Clearing her throat, she reached for the bedside extension.