and tended kids. She could never have been a soccer or softball coach and I might’ve been such a disappointment to her—I pitched girl’s softball rather than sewing or learning to bake. But when I was fourteen she said, ‘Katie, never underestimate the power of red lipstick.’ From that point on I knew when their anniversary was because they went out to dinner alone and she put on the red lipstick.” And she laughed. “My parents were pretty boring,” she added. “But they were in love in their own way. I mean, come on,” she said with a lift of a brow. “Red lipstick! Priceless, right?”
Dylan was transfixed by the smile, the laughter. How did she do that? Talk about dead people, people who had ultimately let her down, even though not by choice, and laugh with such beauty? He wanted that mouth....
“What?” she asked, studying his expression.
“That must have been hard. Losing your parents when you were young.”
She sat forward and her expression became serious. “Everyone I lost, I lost young,” she said.
He was quiet for a minute and then said, “We have that in common.”
She relaxed back in her chair, waiting.
“My dad died in a car crash when I was twelve. My best friend when I was fifteen.”
“Wow. I’m sorry. I should’ve known there was something that linked us. We kind of connected the first time we looked at each other.”
Suddenly his grin was enormous and his eyes twinkled and she remembered the wet T-shirt display when his eyes dipped to her chest, which was such an ordinary chest.
“You’re a dog,” she said.
“I am a dog,” he admitted, smiling. “So, your husband was lost five years ago or so, yet you didn’t get married again? It wouldn’t have taken my mom that long.”
She shrugged and studied her cola can.
“Oh-oh,” he said. “I smell a broken heart.”
She looked up suddenly. “Me? Oh, God, no. A slightly disappointed heart, maybe. I haven’t even dated much since Charlie died. I was just starting to get interested again when…I guess I just lost that old knack for knowing what to look for in a guy. Besides, I’m happy with my life—my family.”
Dylan was quiet for a second. “My grandmother said I made my dad more perfect every day after he was gone. Did you—?”
She shook her head. “I don’t do that. I remember every one of his faults even though I loved him like mad. But the last guy I was optimistic about was talking about marriage and family, and he never even kissed me.” She briefly considered the details of that experience and decided not to share too much. “That should’ve tipped me off, right? Think maybe he forgot? That’s when I decided to count my blessings. I’ll stick with the men I have in my life and call it a day.” When he looked a little confused she added, “The boys and Uncle Conner.”
Dylan cocked his head. “Is that right? Dated you and didn’t kiss you? What did he date you for?”
“Well, I’m a very good cook, even though that never interested me as a girl. And I can keep small appliances running…”
“Wow,” he said facetiously. “Every man’s dream.”
She smiled at him and asked, “Are you married?”
“No,” he said on a laugh. “No-ho-ho. I am not the marrying kind, trust me.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Very simple. I come from a family that has a very bad track record.”
“But your father died,” she said.
“Oh, my parents had both been divorced and remarried by then. More than once.”
“Oh. Gee, that’s too bad. My brother, Conner, and I have each had one marriage on the record—he’s divorced. But we don’t have commitment issues. Just the opposite. And Charlie…Charlie was a soldier and his commitment was his life. His commitment to me was…” She stopped and slanted a look at Dylan. “This is surreal,” she said. “Sitting here talking to a perfect stranger about love and marriage and commitment issues. You haven’t even told me your last name.”
“Childress,” he said, watching her for a reaction. There wasn’t one. He drained his cola and tapped the empty can. “Where should I pitch this?”
“Just leave it,” she said. “I’ll take it inside.”
He put the can down beside his chair and stood. “Thanks for the soda, Katie Malone. I’d better get back to work.”
She laughed at him. “By all means. And if that job has any openings…”
Katie stayed in her chair, feet propped, watching him don gloves and helmet, mount, wrangle that big bike off the stand, rev the engine and turn out of the clearing. She had to smile to herself as she heard him rumble away, the engine noise diminishing as his distance grew. How had he managed to stumble on her little hideaway?
Then she heard another motorcycle coming down the road, getting closer and closer until—
He turned back into the clearing and drove his bike right up to the porch. Then he turned off the motor and used his long legs on either side of the bike to prop it up on the stand. He slowly dismounted, removing his helmet and gloves, leaving them on the bike seat.
“So? Back for another soda? More conversation?” she asked.
He had an odd look on his face as he approached her, smiling a little as he took those two steps up to the porch. It was the strange look that brought her to her feet.
He slipped his arm around her waist so stealthily, she never saw it coming. Then he didn’t so much draw her against him as snapped her against him with that one arm, which put their faces close enough to feel each other’s warm breath. And his, she noted, was a little rapid. She felt his pounding heart against her breast.
His eyes were close enough so that the startling blue appeared in mere glittering slits, buried beneath the thick lashes. Her eyes were wide, on the other hand. Her mouth open, startled. “I just wanted to be clear,” he said in a hoarse, whisper. “I wouldn’t have forgotten.”
And then he crashed down on her mouth.
Katie was startled somewhere between pain and a pleasure so remarkable, she wasn’t sure how to respond. There was a taste in him that verged on desperate, something that felt so much more welcome than nice-but-dull. Her inner voice said, This will probably be the only kiss you ever get from him. And with that thought, her hands slid slowly up his arms to his shoulders, shoulders so hard and inviting. But it was the mouth that sent her reeling, his soft lips, his tongue, tentative and cautious before becoming demanding. She joined the tongue play, trying to remember when she’d participated in a kiss like this, and failing.
And thank God it wasn’t quick. No, this guy wasn’t a tease, he was the real deal. He threaded his fingers up the back of her neck and into her hair until he palmed her head. He tilted her right, then left, changing their slant and deepening the kiss. And she found
