The Debutante's Second Chance. Liz Flaherty
in his arms when Landy went outside. “Your walk’s coming apart,” he said.
“I know. It’s on this spring’s to-do list.” She stroked Lindsey’s strawberry blond hair back from her face. “Hungry, Linds?”
“Oh, you’ve met my new girlfriend?” Micah looked at her past the child’s face, his eyes warm. “Be careful. She’s the jealous type.”
“He’s silly, Aunt Landy,” Lindsey announced, planting a noisy, wet kiss on his cheek and pushing herself out of his arms. “Let me go, Uncle Mike. The hot dogs are done.”
Landy watched the little girl run to join her siblings and Jessie’s children around a platter mounded with hot dogs. “Uncle Mike, huh? You’ve made a conquest.”
“Oh,” he said, “I’m a whiz with the five-year-old set. And Wendy and Jessie’s girl Hannah assured me I didn’t do too bad as an umpire.” His hand lifted, pushing her hair back from her face in much the same way as she had Lindsey’s, although his touch was much more tentative. “How am I doing with the thirty-somethings?”
His hand lingered at her hairline, then slipped down to cup her cheek. She looked up at him, and it seemed that she could become lost in the foggy depths of his gray eyes. And she wanted to. She wanted to be lost in that way that happened to other women but eluded her.
When she spoke, her voice was thready. “Not bad,” she said. “Not bad at all.”
Chapter Five
Window Over the Sink, Taft Tribune: Sometimes life goes so smoothly, you’re lulled into a false sense of security. You know, the mortgage is paid ahead, you’ve lost the ten pounds you’d gained since the last high school reunion. The sunset reflects its palette of colors on the Twilight and gives you heart’s ease at the end of the day and all is blissfully right with the world.
Then, in one short day—or perhaps only a moment—it all goes to hell in a hand basket.
He waited till everyone else had gone to take his leave. Then he took her into his arms and kissed Landy until his legs felt like scrambled eggs.
For a moment, she trembled, and he expected her to draw away, but she didn’t. She just looked up at him in the flickering light from citronella torches and said, “Lindsey wouldn’t like this.”
Do you? Your heart’s beating as fast as mine, but I don’t know if it’s from excitement or fear. He tried to ask her the question silently, but there were no answers in her face. Only more questions.
“Didn’t you notice?” His voice sounded funny to his own ears. He was reminded of coming back to earth after a heavy make-out session at the drive-in that used to be on the edge of town. His heart was pumping like crazy and he felt flushed and warm, even though the evening had cooled.
It had been a while since he’d felt seventeen.
“She attached herself to my father,” he said, his voice still uneven. “I think she has an older man fetish.”
She chuckled, and the husky laughter weakened his legs still further. Keeping her in his arms, he lowered himself to the porch swing. “Of course,” he said, “I’m an older man, too.” He lifted her hand, setting it palm-to-palm against his, and captured her gaze. “Hopefully wiser.”
When he lowered his hand, it drifted, almost as though by accident, against the swell of her breast, and lingered there. He kept the touch light; he could scarcely feel her softness against his skin. Then he kissed her again, a leisurely blending of taste and touch and elusive scent.
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