Reclaim My Heart (31 page)
Vivid dreams of heated kisses and {d kt matttentative touches had shocked her awake each night, but three excruciating weeks went by and he hadn’t even held her hand. All he’d done was talk, and he seemed to want to know everything about her. Of course, she was happy to oblige, but being with him was torment. A voice in her head whispered that he was all wrong for her, but her more sensual urges made her desperate to discover the taste of his lips on hers.
Then in late Sept, he’d invited her to the Lenape Harvest Festival.
Lucas had acted so nervous once she’d arrived that he’d set
her
on edge. She had known something was going to happen, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out if he was garnering the courage to finally kiss her or tell her their budding relationship had all been a mistake.
She’d trembled when he’d finally taken her hand and led her into the darkness, just as he was doing now. Her knees had grown quivery back then—she could still remember the feeling as if it had happened yesterday—and she’d been thankful for the support of the solid tree trunk at her back. He hadn’t said a word. Had only studied her face for the longest time. She had feared she would drown in the black depths of his gaze. And then he’d kissed her, gently, softly, over and over.
It had been the most romantic moment of her life.
He’d turned bold, looking directly into her eyes as he’d skimmed his hand over her shoulder, her waist, her hip. She’d let him touch her, never breaking eye contact, as kaleidoscopic feelings shivered and pulsed through her body. And then he’d kissed her again, this time rougher and deeper, but not rough or deep enough to satisfy the new and burgeoning need radiating in her belly and between her thighs. Then he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. The solid mass of him made her sigh.
Lucas had whispered against her neck, “You’re beautiful,” and she’d thought she would dissolve into a pale, liquescent pool right at the base of that oak tree.
She’d have given herself to him, then and there, on the grassy ground. She’d have surrendered her heart, her virginity,
and anything else he might have wanted.
And here they were again all these years later, the massive tree at her back, those black, piercing eyes boring into hers.
“Do you remember?” he whispered.
She didn’t have to speak. Her answer radiated from her like a humming current of energy.
Sounds of faint laughter and happy voices carried on the still air just as they had all those years ago.
“I’ve been thinking about this spot all evening.” He smoothed his thumb along her jaw. “About that night. That kiss.”
And she’d been trying hard all evening not to.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
T
he entrancing strains of
that magical music quavered with the rhythm of her heart and threatened to whisk her away. Lucas’s penetrating gaze searched hers. He leaned toward her, and she was hit with a heady adrenalin rush.
“Sorry,” he murmured, “but I’ve just got to do this.”
The apology made her frown, but his lips brushed hers, once, twice, feather light, kick-starting her pulse into a staccato beat that clashed with the dreamy, melodious harmony of flutes. He deepened the kiss, and her whole world became focused on the corporal; the hardness of his chest beneath her palms, the heated scent of him filling her nostrils, lulling all thought. His fingers skimmed over her shoulders and down her arms, settling on her waist, his touch sure, unhurried, deliberate. He slid his hands upward toward her ribcage and breasts, and she bent her elbows and tucked them tight against her, blocking him with her forearms.
“W ~d ktribcagehoa,” she whispered. “Hold on.”
He pulled back a few inches, a question in his eyes.
She smiled, shaking her head, uncertain if embarrassment and simple apprehension were making her feel so overheated or if it was him, his kiss, his touch. “We’re not teenagers anymore, Lucas.”
He grinned. “Yeah, ain’t it great? I know just what to do and how to do it.”
His eyelids drooped subtly and he leaned in, his bottom lip glistening from their kiss, and she nearly surrendered and let him take her wherever it was he wanted to go. But logic snapped on like a glaring light.
She lifted her hand, touching her index and middle fingers to his moist, hot mouth. “Wait.” Indecision forced her gaze to dip, but then she looked him in the eye. “Lucas, what are you doing?”
Deadpan serious, he told her, “I think that’s obvious. I’m kissing you.”
The passion hazing his gaze, roughening his voice, caused the muscles low in her gut to constrict.
“Lucas.” She tried to elevate the volume of her voice but failed. “We can’t do this.” She’d lowered her hand a little, but it remained, hovering between them. The heat of him was intoxicating. It would be so easy to surrender.
“Sure, we can. Let me show you how.” He pressed his body against hers.
Her small exhalation was short, forceful. “You know what I mean. We
shouldn’t
do this.” But even as she said the words, she had to resist the urge to release a low groan. This felt so good. So very good.
Now he smiled, the intensity in his handsome face relaxing. “Well, that’s a whole other issue, now isn’t it?”
But he stayed close. Too close.
“This will only complicate things,” she told him. “And things are complicated enough, don’t you think?” He didn’t respond, and he didn’t step back. Struck with the overwhelming need to temper her argument, she quickly added, “Besides that, we’re not the same people, you and I. We can’t be, with all the time that’s gone by, you know?”
Nerves tickled at her and every inch of her skin became hypersensitive. Recognizing the hard length of his penis bearing against her hip should have forced her gaze from his, should have had her elbowing her way out of his heady embrace, but that’s not what happened at all. In fact, her own desire flared, white-hot, and when she spoke, it was as if someone else were forming the words.
“We don’t know each other, Lucas.”
Her little speech cleared his dark eyes and he backed away. And even as she was flooded with relief, she was also glutted with disappointment. His hands slid from her waist, and even with the hot summer heat, she felt suddenly chilled. He didn’t agree or disagree with what she’d said, but he did take her hand. And as he led her back to the birthday party, she heard him say, “Guess we’ll have to rectify that.”
• • •
“Hey, Mom.” Zach plopped
down on the ground beside her and the small pile of weeds she’d plucked from the flower bed.
Shaded from the sun by the eves of the house, Tyne sat on the cool, green grass, turning the soil to get it ready for the flats of marigolds Lucas had bought, the only flower hardy enough to survive the sizzling summer heat.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “I thought you and Lucas and Jasper were doing something this afternoon.”
He nodded, a shank of dark hair falling into his eyes. “We had burgers for lunch, and then hung out in town for a while. Uncle Jasper had some great stories about, well—” Zach’s gaze darted to his hands “—you know, about him.”
“Lucas?"5%n hung o”
“Yeah.”
Evidently, her son was still trying to figure out what to call his father. Tyne smacked a clump of earth with her hand trowel, crumbling the dirt. “I’m sorry I missed that.”
“Then some guy stopped him—” again he stumbled “—you know, Lucas, on the street. He was, you know, the guy was, like, real upset. Said something about changes in a new contract he got in the mail, like, yesterday or something.”
She set the shovel aside. “A contract for a communications tower?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
“Lucas has talked to him before.” An errant weed, now shriveled by the sun, marred the black soil and Tyne reached over, pulled it and dropped it onto the pile. “But I’m surprised Lucas interrupted his afternoon with you and Jasper for—”
“Oh, he didn’t.” Zach started tugging at a dandelion that was growing between the grass and the bricks that bordered the flower bed. “We were on our way back to Uncle Jasper’s anyway. The guy was, like, really angry, so I told him, you know, Lucas, that I’d, like, walk home.”
She tugged off one glove and looked at her son. “That was nice of you.”
Zach shrugged. He focused on the large weed. “Listen, Mom, I’ve been wanting to…” He cleared his throat, reached out and plucked a green leaf. “I’ve been, like, thinking.”
Announcing the need to talk was a rarity, a near impossibility, for a teenaged boy. At least, she’d found that to be true for her son.
Tyne pulled off her other gardening glove. “I’m listening.”
He didn’t look up from the dandelion. “I want to apologize. For the way I’ve been acting. For the trouble I got into back home. I didn’t act like, well, you know, like I should have.”
Staring at her son, she was astounded. Unexpected tears scalded the backs of her eyelids and the knot rising in her throat choked her. But she took a breath and willed the emotion aside. “Zach—”
He looked up and immediately narrowed his gaze. “Now, don’t make a big deal about this.”
Her gaze darted to the pile of weeds she’d created and she did her best to blink away the tears. “Why would I do that?” The gloves slid back on with ease and she tackled the flower bed with renewed gusto just to have something to keep her hands busy.
The dandelion popped free of the ground and Zach tossed it aside. “Uncle Jasper says that, like, the only thing a man really has is his honor. Every decision I make, every word I speak, every action I take reflects on, like, my integrity. And the kind of person I am has an impact on, like, you know, the whole family. Uncle Jasper called it a clan. ’Cause I’m…one of ’em.” Zach picked up the trowel and stabbed at the dirt. “What I did before, Uncle Jasper says, isn’t, like, as important as how I act now. I mean, now that I’ve been told. Now that I know how important honor is to a man, to a
person
, to their family, and their whole clan. But even though Uncle Jasper is willing to let me off the hook, it’s bothering me. I mean, like, my behavior. You know, the trouble I got into.” He sighed in frustration. “I’m not explaining this very well.”
Sentiment softened her smile and she cast him a quick glance. “You’re explaining it perfectly.”
“Anyway, I can’t blame other people for my decisions.” He jabbed at a vine-like weed, picked it up and shook the soil from the roots. “I can’t, like, blame you or Rob or, ah, Lucas, and, and not even those kids I was with that night I got arrested. I got in trouble because of the choices I made.”
Tyne smoothed her gloved hand over the ground, leveling out the area of the flower bed she’d been fussing over. Zach would have been horrified if she were to grab hwerth="5%">Tyim and plant a big kiss on his cheek, so she continued working the earth between her fingers.
“Uncle Jasper says becoming an adult means, like, taking responsibility for your actions. The things you do, the things you say. Even the things you think.”
That was a lesson she hadn’t learned until she’d become a mother. While staying at her Aunt Wanda’s home in Florida, waiting for her baby to be born, Tyne had accepted all the help her parents and her aunt had offered. It wasn’t until she’d held Zach in her arms, saw the child her actions had produced, that she’d finally put all the pieces together and realized the seriousness of her situation.
She was responsible for this baby. She was the one who had to grow up and start making mature, sensible decisions.
Now here she was, seeing her son learning the same lesson…only he was learning it at an earlier age than she had.
Zach tapped the tip of the metal trowel against the brick-lined border. “I guess I, like, knew that. I should have, anyway. But the way Uncle Jasper explained it, I
really
understood, you know?”
Tyne couldn’t stand it any longer. She jerked off her gloves and swiveled her feet under her so that she was propped up on her knees, sitting back on her heels. She turned to Zach. “I don’t want you to make a big deal about this, but would it be okay if I gave you a hug?”
It was obviously the last thing he wanted, but he suffered through her embrace. She pressed a kiss to his hair, hoping he didn’t feel it.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispered. Then she slid along the flower bed a foot or so and went back to weeding, afraid her emotions would overwhelm her.
“I’m going to go get a soda,” he told her, rising to his feet.
The screen creaked open, but it didn’t close.
“Mom,” he called from up on the concrete stoop.
She lifted her face.
“I am going to try to do better. I promise.”
Again, her smile was tight; it was necessary to keep her chin from trembling.
“I don’t want you to be ashamed of me ever again.”
She gasped. “Zachary, I have never been ashamed of you.”
Skepticism planted itself between his brows. “The truth is important, Mom. I can handle it.”
Her eyes never wavered from his. “That
is
the truth.”
The crease on his forehead only deepened. “So why didn’t you tell him about me?”
Guilt jarred through her like a bolt of summer heat lightning.
“And why don’t you want your parents to know about me?”
She’d rather have been stripped of her clothes and forced to run down the street stark naked than answer those two innocent questions.
Abortion. Adoption. Bigotry.
The vileness of her teen years made her head swim. Taking responsibility for your actions was one thing. Hurting someone you loved with the painful truth was quite another.
Her son deserved answers. But she wasn’t willing to wound him by supplying them.
“Honey,” she said softly, “you’re going to have to trust m
e. I want you to know that I’m only doing what’s best for you. That has always been my only motivation.”
Her son’s face went slack. This wasn’t the response he’d hoped for.
He stepped inside and she called his name. He paused, and then slowly turned to face her, his disappointment only slightly obscured by the web of screening.
“I want you to know something important. It’s not you I’m ashamed of.”
Her son looked at her for a moment longer, unasked questions clouding dark eyes that were too much like his father’s, then he disappeared into the hous in/p>
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
T
yne’s hand moved to
her belt buckle, then she smoothed her palm down her short, twill skirt as she looked around at the other diners. “I’m not dressed appropriately.”
Years ago,
Reflections
used to be a family restaurant, but the owners had obviously elevated their status several notches above the upscale casual attire she was wearing.
“You look great.” Lucas’s hand was tucked securely at the small of her back and the two of them followed the hostess to their table.
The outfit was the dressiest she’d brought with her from Philly. Spending an evening at an elegant restaurant in Lancaster hadn’t entered her head when she’d packed. Wikweko was a laidback place, homey, comfortable, easy, so she’d only brought shorts and jeans and cotton tops. The skirt had been tossed in as an afterthought.
Thank goodness for afterthoughts.
Lucas looked good enough to serve as first course in his charcoal suit, crisp dress shirt and black tie. He scooted in Tyne’s chair and then took a seat across from her. A harpist plucked out a jaunty melody and soft light glowed from the candle centered on the small, round table.
“I hope Zach has a good time tonight,” she said.
“Are you kidding?” Lucas tucked the crimson linen napkin onto his lap. “They popped six gallons of popcorn and rented four horror flicks. He’s going to be at the Community Center until the wee hours. Our kid is in slasher-movie paradise right now.”
She grinned. “I wonder how Jasper’s feeling about this.”
Lucas chuckled. “Don’t ask. But he was the one who offered the kids a free night to do what they wanted.” Again, he laughed. “I think he expected them to choose an activity that was a little more…cultural.”
Tyne shook her head. “He works with teens all the time. Shouldn’t he know better?”
The grin on Lucas’s face had to suffice for an answer when the sommelier approached, introducing herself as Christy. He chatted with the young, smiling brunette and Tyne took in the woman’s short, edgy haircut. Her black eye-liner and heavy mascara made her eyes look large on her delicate, pale-skinned face. The sophisticated, knee-length skirt and silk bolero jacket hugged her rail-thin body. Tyne slipped her hand beneath the table to give the hem of her skirt an awkward tug, her bare toes curling in her casual sandals.
Once Christy sauntered off to fetch the wine Lucas ordered, Tyne said, “She’s cute.”
Lifting one shoulder just a bit, Lucas tilted his head. “Never noticed. I only have eyes for one woman tonight.” His tone grew hushed. “The one I brought.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Lucas.
Really
?”
He leaned his elbows on the edge of the table. “What do I have to do to get you to take me seriously?”
Saturday night had changed everything between them. The few heady moments they had spent under the oak tree had made them overly conscious of each other. For the last four days, every word, every glance, every inadvertent touch seemed to hold extraordinary meaning. Tyne had tried, but ignoring the awareness that shivered between them had become impossible.
Her gaze lowered to the crystal water goblet sitting in front of her.
“Tyne, what you said this weekend is true,” he told her. “We’re not teenagers anymore. We should be able to talk about what’s going on between us.”
“But that’s just it.” She strained for levity. “There’s nothing going on.”
Without a word, he fisted his ~d ktween us.hands and rested his chin on his knuckles. Although he didn’t speak, his obsidian eyes disagreed with her completely. The air went so taut it nearly vibrated in tune with the harpist’s melody.
“Okay, okay,” she finally relented. “We need to talk.”
A faint smile curled his mouth. “Thank you for not making me come over there and wrestle that out of you.”
The glint he offered her held enough sexual innuendo that her pulse quickened. She only rolled her eyes at his teasing.
“You said that we’re not the same people. That time has changed us. And I’d have to agree with that theory. We don’t know each other. So—” he shrugged “—the first thing we have to do is fix that, right? We spend time together. We talk. We laugh. We fill in the gaps of all those missing years.” The candlelight made his eyes glimmer. “Who knows where all that talking and laughing and filling in will lead?”
Her mind went blank and she did her best to disregard the distinct tightening in her groin. If she wasn’t careful, she might do something she’d end up regretting.
“You were also worried that if we were to explore a relationship that it would complicate our circumstances.” Again he shrugged and this time he accompanied it with a small shake of his head. “We’re mature adults. We can handle complicated.”
She picked up her napkin simply to have something to do with her hands. “But what if the problems become too difficult to deal with?”
His lips quirked and he shook his head. “There you go, focusing on the negative. I think we should concentrate on the positives. And there are many.” He leaned forward. “All I can think about is that kiss. And how you tasted. And how your skin felt warm and soft under my fingers. And how all I wanted to do was—”
“Lucas—” she twisted one corner of the napkin in her lap “—there’s more to a relationship than sex.”
His deep chuckle sent a tingle down her spine strong enough to make her want to arch her back like a cat lazing in sunshine, and the throbbing in her vagina intensified.
“Yeah, but,” he murmured, “we gotta start somewhere.”
Rosy buds of heat blotched her cheeks and perspiration prickled the back of her neck.
“Now,
that
is what I call cute.”
Her face flamed hotter. “Lucas, stop.” He continued to stare and she shot him a half-hearted grimace. “You’re making me feel…strange.”
Lightheaded, happy…
desired
.
He grinned. “Strange wasn’t what I was going for, at all.”
The raw eroticism in his voice was unreal, and she knew his intention was to knock her off-balance.
She smoothed out the wrinkles she’d creased in the square of linen. “Lucas, if you’re serious about talking—”
“I love it when your face goes pink like that.”
She crossed her arms, leaned against the chair’s back, and went quiet.
He chuckled. “Pushed you as far as I can, huh?”
The man was handsome when he smiled, but he was orgasmically gorgeous when his sharp-angled features shifted into that let’s-get-down-to-business expression. Tyne pinched the corner of the napkin again and started coiling.
“Let’s hear it,” he said. “I can see from the look on your face that you’ve got reservations.”
She nodded. “I do. I-I really do.” She stopped long enough to take a sip from her water glass. “I mean, I will admit that there’s something there.” Her gaze dipped for an instant as she muttered, “An attraction or whatever.”
“Good.” A smile hid just beneath the surface of the short response. “At least we do agree on that much.”
“But h="r wdon’t you see the past as a problem?” She’d twisted the napkin into such tight coils that, when she released the fabric, it squirmed like a snake in her lap. Thank goodness the draped tablecloth covered her nervous handiwork. “I do. I see it as an obstacle. A huge obstacle. Too big for us to climb. Too big for us to overcome.”
He reached across the table, opening his hand in invitation. When she lifted hers from her lap, she was vaguely aware that her napkin slithered to the floor. His palm was warm against her fingers.
“Stop looking for trouble,” he told her. “We had a son together. And because you were brave enough to raise Zach alone, I have the opportunity to know him.” His eyes warmed. “Personally, I think that’s something to celebrate.”
“But…” What about the ugly details, she wanted to ask but couldn’t get her tongue to form the words.
“Tyne? It
is
you. Tyne Whitlock!”
The high-pitched female voice made Tyne wince. The bosomy woman approaching their table looked vaguely familiar. Her stone-gray hair spiked outward behind her ears, and she’d gained a considerable amount of weight, but when Tyne placed her, remembering her name, the blood drained from her face.
“Mrs. Denver?”
The elderly woman waved her hands in a ‘come, come’ motion and Tyne slipped her fingers from Lucas’s and stood without giving it a thought. Good Southern manners prohibited any other choice. Vera Denver’s Chanel N° 5 hit Tyne like a solid wall when they hugged.
“I just knew that was you. I told Earl, but he didn’t believe me.” Vera shifted her shoulder so her husband could nod hello.
Tyne raised her hand to him in greeting, but dread had her face too numb to smile.
“I saw your mother in church on Sunday,” Vera said. “And she didn’t say a word about your being home.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Oh!” The woman clapped her fleshy hands together. “I can’t wait to call her—”
“Please don’t.” Tyne’s throat constricted so tightly that she could barely squeeze out air, let alone words.
Vera nodded, the ends of her spikes bobbing at her neckline. “Ah, I see. A surprise, is it? Lovely!” She glanced at the table and then Lucas before looking at Tyne. Vera blinked, then let her gaze fall down the length of Tyne’s body, evidently taking in her casual attire for the first time. The delight in her voice withered when she hesitantly murmured, “I came over to invite you to join us.”
The prospect had Tyne flattening her palm against her stomach. “Oh, thank you for the offer, but—”
“Excuse me, Tyne, but we have to go.”
Both the women turned to Lucas who was already standing with his wallet in hand, pulling out several bills, and dropping them onto the table.
“Mrs. Denver, this is Lucas Silver Hawk,” Tyne introduced. “Lucas, Vera Denver. She’s a good friend of my parents.”
“Life-long friends. Why, I changed Tyne’s diapers,” Vera supplied.
Lucas smiled politely at the woman and then gave Tyne a sad look. “I just got a text. I’m needed. I hope you don’t mind, but we have to leave now.”
The man was a quick thinking and skilled liar. She could have kissed him.
“No, no. I don’t mind.” She reached for her purse and looked at Vera. “Enjoy your evening. It was lovely to see you.” The fib snagged in her throat like a barbed fishing hook.
Christy arrived at the table with their open bottle of pinot grigio.
“Ah, I’m terribly sorry,” Lucas told the woman, “but there’s been an emergency.” He pointed to the money. “That should take care of things, though.”
The young woman’s gag ws told tze darted to the bills on the white tablecloth, and then she offered him a wide smile. “Yes, sir. Don’t worry about a thing.”
He took Tyne by the elbow and guided her toward the front door.
Once they were in the car, the engine idling, the air conditioner blasting, Tyne took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
He just smiled. “I thought we’d better get out of there before you threw up all over dear Vera’s pretty, pink dress. In fact, you still look a little green.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “And you smell like an old-ladies’ perfume factory.”
She groaned. “Of all the people to meet. My mom is going to know I’m here before the night’s out. I just know it. Vera’s probably in there dialing her number now.”
“You asked her not to say anything. Maybe she won’t.”
Tyne only sighed.
Traffic was heavy for a Wednesday evening. Lucas maneuvered the car onto the highway.
“Maybe you should go see them,” he suggested. “Get it over with, and then you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
She stared hard at his profile. “You’re kidding, right?”
His silence told her he wasn’t.
The ugly details of how she’d left town reared up in her mind like the hissing snakes on Medusa’s head. He wouldn’t understand until she described them for him, fangs and scales and venom and all.
The leather seat felt cool against the backs of her arms and thighs when she settled herself. Softly, she confessed, “I’m angry with them, Lucas. I’ve been angry with them for a long time.”
Tyne was only vaguely aware of the bright lights of the businesses they passed along the way.
“My mother betrayed me,” she said, her voice flat. “I went to her for help, and she ran right to my father with the news of my pregnancy. I was so young. And they shut me off from everyone. Lectured me. Hounded me. They hashed out the options, planned my life and my future like I wasn’t even sitting there. Abortion, they finally decided.” Her stomach clenched sickeningly. “That was the best answer. We would slip away in the night, so no one would see. We would make this problem go away. And I wasn’t allowed to have an opinion.
“That exam room was cold.” The memory made her shiver. “And stark. And scary as hell with all those instruments lined up on that stainless steel tray.” She swallowed. “They left me there on that table, practically naked, and all alone.” She could still feel the rough paper gown grazing her skin. “I can’t adequately describe the rage and resentment that filled me while I waited for the doctor who was going to come and abort my baby.”
Too angry to cry, that’s when she decided she could no longer be the good little girl, the obedient daughter. “I slid off that table and got myself dressed and walked out of that room. Mom went completely crazy. She was yelling like a banshee.” Tyne swiped weary fingers across her forehead. “I’ll never forget the last thing I heard her say before I pushed my way out of that clinic.
‘What am I supposed to tell your father?’
”
The question rang in her head and it roused her fury even after all this time.
“There was a second round of lectures—god, I thought they would never shut up—and when I didn’t budge on the abortion idea, they started harping on adoption. They were like some tag team. Dad would go a few rounds, shouting about how he refused to let me ruin my life, and Mom would start spewing out propaganda about making the dreams of some childless couple come true.”
She covered her face with her hands. “I was so damn confused. I knew I had disappointed them. Knew I had messed up. I only wanted to make things right. I am so sorry, Lucas—” she glanced at him befcedndsore burying her face in her hands again “—and I never wanted you to know this, but I came to the conclusion that adoption was something I could at least live with.”
