Swoon (19 page)

The foyer went through the center of the house, with a large dining room and kitchen to the left and a family room, formal living room that never got used, and an office to the right. All the bedrooms were upstairs. But directly in front of us was a set of french doors that led out into the lawn and garden area. When I saw a small body darting past, I realized that’s where everyone was and I led Steph that direction.

She stiffened next to me, standing close as we stepped out onto the back porch to survey the mayhem, and my mom stood to rush over. It was go time.

“Hi, Mom.” I smiled and kissed her cheek. She patted my shoulder, dismissing me, and turned to Steph with a delighted expression on her face.

“You must be Steph! I’m Melody.” She wrapped her arms around Steph and, judging by the wide-eyed expression on Steph’s face, surprised the hell out of her with a hug. I winked at her and shrugged. My family was very affectionate. Not in a weird way. Well, maybe weird to some people.

Steph barely had a chance to respond before she was whisked away by my mother toward my waiting sisters.

My dad walked over and put his arm over my shoulder. “How are you, son?”

I nodded. “Good, Dad. Same as yesterday.”

He smiled in Steph’s direction. “I’d say you’re a little better off than you were yesterday.”

I chuckled in agreement. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“It’s been a few years since I’ve seen her. And I’m not sure what all went on since you’ve never brought it up. But I like her. She’s not one to let slip away. Again.”

He glanced at me pointedly, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “It’s not like it was all my fault.”

“It’s always our fault. No matter what she did or said, you allowed it to happen. In every relationship, at different times, someone has to be the one who won’t let go. Sometimes it’ll be you and sometimes her. But you two wasted years just because you took her at her word.”

I shook my head. “I would think taking a woman at her word would be a good thing.”

He laughed. “No, son. Never take a woman at her word. There’s always more going on in her head than in yours. Unless you don’t care.” He finished with a shrug.

“I care.”

“Good.”

“But I don’t really know how to make this work, Dad. We don’t even live in the same state, and I don’t think either of us has any plans to move. We’re pretty set where we are.”

“Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Lawrence, don’t ever feel locked down to the family business. We have plenty of family.” He looked out across the lawn and smiled. “Plenty. Yes, you have responsibilities here. It’s your job. But never feel like you can’t talk to me about changes you want to make. My life does not necessarily have to be yours. And for the love of God, don’t ever give up on the woman you love because of a job or let something as easily changed as geography stop you.”

He patted my shoulder and jogged out to the group of family surrounding Steph, weaving her farther, tighter into my life. Leaving me thinking of all the changes and challenges already ahead if we were going to make this work. And I was up for it. But I couldn’t carry us through it by myself.

Chapter 20

Steph

H
oly shiznit. This was a lot of estrogen, even for me. When Lawrence’s dad, Bill, finally joined the fray, it actually eased my tension, and it brought the rest of the menfolk, with the exception of Lawrence, over as well. I was glad that I’d already met Jeanine and her kids today and that I’d met Bill a couple of years ago. Ahem, the first night I slept with his son. I tried to move my thoughts on from that one and pretend we’d never met.

Melody terrified me. She hugged and she was really nice.

Jeanine’s husband, Adam, was uncomfortably good-looking with dark, almost black, wavy hair and piercing green eyes. He was very intense to talk to, but when his wife or kids were around, he was the ultimate hot dad and husband. It was cute.

Julie was the next sister down. She looked pretty much just like Jeanine except she was the only sibling with brown eyes. Her husband was Will. He was an incredibly cheerful guy with shaggy auburn hair. I learned they’d only been married about six months and that Lawrence had taken that other chick, apparently her name was Tina, to their wedding, and the whole family was still harboring resentment that she’d made it into a few photos. Funny. Me too.

Lawrence fell in the middle, and then there were two younger sisters. Chrissy had the same bright blue eyes as her brother, but her hair was dyed a dark, glossy black with purple highlights. Dressed in a feminine, lavender sundress, she was a walking contradiction. Plus she was sweet as pie and newly engaged to Jeremy, clean-cut and handsome, clearly a military man.

Tessa was the youngest. She was absolutely identical to Jeanine except she was about four inches smaller. The jockey. And she looked much more mature than her twenty years. But she was the only one wearing jeans. I could tell she enjoyed being the rebel, but she certainly had no cause since everyone just rolled their eyes at her in amusement.

They were a fun-loving group, and I should have felt great about them, but now I felt a heaviness in my chest, felt consumed by unfamiliar familial responsibilities. And they weren’t even my family. I felt uncertainty mixed with hope mixed with assumptions. The newness of what had occurred between Lawrence and me last night still felt fragile, and I wasn’t sure it could handle the weight of… anyone else. Even without meaning to pressure me, their acceptance felt like expectations. Lawrence and I hadn’t even talked about what would happen tomorrow. Or next week. Or next month. When we’d see each other again. And now his family was making me feel like I was part of them.

Panic was rising in me—I was alone and surrounded by people who were probably better than me, definitely nicer than me, and certainly more accepting. Where the fuck was Lawrence? The man I couldn’t even call my boyfriend in my mind because we hadn’t really talked about it was off somewhere else and had left me to fend for myself.

A warm hand at the small of my back made my breath hitch and my stomach tighten. I swallowed hard because at the same time, my nerves settled and I stopped feeling alone at the gathering. My chest lightened and I was able to take a relieved breath.

“Easy,” Lawrence whispered in my ear.

I turned my head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I could feel your freak-out all the way from where I was standing. You’re fine. It’s just dinner.”

I laughed breathlessly. “Just dinner? Then why were you standing across the yard by yourself?”

He took my hand and walked with me to a stone bench in the middle of a large herb garden. We sat side by side.

“I was talking to my dad. Then just thinking, watching you.”

“That’s creepy.”

He grinned. “Nah. It’s not creepy if it’s allowed. Didn’t you say something about me being allowed to do whatever I want to you?”

I shook my head slowly. “I’m not sure that’s precisely what I said.”

“Anyway, when I was talking to my dad, I got to thinking about… what’s next.”

I raised my eyebrows and waited for him to continue.

“Like, when can I see you again? Is next weekend too soon? And what about after that? We need a schedule.”

His insistence made me smile. I loved a good schedule. “Well, I have to work through the end of the summer. I have to work the next couple of weekends, so it’ll be hard for me get up here. But by mid-August… I’m pretty wide open.”

“I could drive overnight Friday and be to you early Saturday morning. I can have you naked five seconds after I walk in the door until five seconds before I need to leave Sunday.”

“Lawrence.” I shook my head, laughing. “That’s a long drive for just a few hours together. We need to be realistic.”

“Reality will interfere soon enough. Let’s just take time when we can and go from there.”

“That’s not a schedule,” I pointed out. “I thought you said we need a schedule.”

“It’s enough of one for me.” He grinned, triumphant.

I blinked a few times at his rationale. “Then what?”

“Well, mid-August is Chrissy and Jeremy’s engagement party. You’re my date for that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And then you may as well stay for a while, because you’ll be homeless.”

“What if you get sick of me?”

“I could never get sick of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. Never.”

“Well, what if I get sick of you?”

“That’s a terrible thing to say. You’re a horrible girlfriend.”

My laughter rang out, drawing the eyes of his family. “Are we doing the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

“Yes, we are. You’re at a Sunday supper. I’ve never brought a girl to Sunday supper. It’s official.”

“You brought a girl to your sister’s wedding.” I inwardly clapped at the fact that I was the first Sunday-supper date.

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’ll never live that down.”

I shrugged. “You probably shouldn’t. She’s in pictures. Forever memorialized.”

He laughed. “Well, you sure as shit weren’t going to be my date. And I didn’t want to show up to another family function alone. Especially a family wedding.”

“What do you mean? Weddings are the best places to be single.”

“Not family ones. You can’t hook up at a family wedding. It’s borderline incest, and you’ll never live it down. Trust me, I know.”

I held up my hands. “Oh my gosh. Okay. I don’t need any more details.”

He laughed and threw an arm around my neck, pulling me over, halfway into his lap, and kissed the top of my head. “No, you don’t. All you need to know is that you are my date for Chrissy’s wedding next spring. Here.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Really? You’re ready to commit that far in advance?”

“I won’t take anything less, sweetheart. You in?”

“All in.” I kissed his cheek, once again reassured. “All in.”

He turned his head, capturing my lips in a lingering kiss, his hands cupping my cheeks, fingers running up to my scalp and making me moan and forget his family standing fifty feet away. As he released me slowly, I blinked into his eyes as the back of his hands skimmed my neck and shoulders, fingers momentarily slipping beneath the spaghetti strap of my dress, pulling it away from my skin. My nipples pebbled under the thin jersey material when his knuckles skimmed over my breasts.

And I smacked him upside the head because I knew he’d done it on purpose.

He just winked.

I loved it.

* * * *

Lawrence

“No. I’m not sitting between Chrissy and Tessa. I’m sitting next to Steph. She leaves tomorrow.” I was being petulant and I didn’t care.

My mom pursed her lips, although I could see amusement dancing in her eyes. She looked to my dad, who shrugged. Dinner table etiquette be damned.

“I don’t blame the boy.” He held up his hands.

I pulled Tessa’s chair out with her still sitting in it.

“Out, runt,” I said, pointing across the table.

She laughed evilly and stood, whispering something in Steph’s ear as they swapped spots. Steph acted embarrassed as she seated herself, and I pushed her chair in, but I knew she loved it. Deep down.

We were all settled into our chairs around the glass and iron dining table on the back porch. The sun was still high in the sky because Sunday supper started early and lasted long. Except for tonight. When dinner was over, I planned on ending this torture session and taking Steph back to my house to spend the rest of the evening and night with her before she had to drive back the next morning. I wanted to tie her to my bed and make us late for our days. Well, I wanted to tie her to the bed for a lot of reasons. But keeping her body handy was just one of them.

And then I was just glad I was sitting at a table where I could at least keep myself in check physically, if not mentally. Until Steph’s hand drifted up my slacks from my knee to a dangerous, dangerous region. I caught her hand in mine and squeezed it in warning, and she stilled but didn’t move it away from her near-inappropriate location.

Easy conversation ensued as we ate our meal of a huge roast chicken along with vegetables from my mom’s garden. Steph and I continued to tease each other with touches and squeezes. I wasn’t completely certain the direction that the talk around us took, but I was pretty certain Steph didn’t know either, so that was good.

“Steph.” My dad laid down his napkin in a signature interrogation move. One he’d reserved for all the boys who’d come to court his daughters so far. “Tell me about your work.”

Her eyebrows rose and her eyes widened.

“Well, sir. It’s been an interesting journey.” She glanced around the table. “I used to work with special-needs kids at a therapeutic riding center as a physical therapist.”

Everyone nodded, because they knew more about her than I’d like to admit.

She continued, “It was fascinating and rewarding work. The past year or so I’ve been teaching riding at a private girls’ academy. I… um… I quit yesterday. I’ve been thinking more and more of starting something of my own.”

I straightened in my seat and took my hand from hers. This wasn’t anything she’d voiced to me yet. And I was proud of her but a little hurt that she hadn’t brought it up.

Her eyes cut to mine, holding my gaze for a moment, before continuing around the table. “I used to love working with kids. I really did. But I’m not sure I want to go back into that.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably, and I wasn’t certain where she was going. “I’ve been thinking more about adults. Soldiers in particular. I know there are organizations like Wounded Warriors and such. My operation wouldn’t be nearly that big. I just want to help people. People who’ve sacrificed everything. Nearly everything anyway. Including their families.”

Her fists were bunched together, passion lining her face. I wasn’t hurt anymore. I was in awe as she continued.

She blew out a breath and looked to me again. “But I’m working on something. A possibility to start a business where people who have served our country and been injured in combat, and their families, can come for physical rehabilitation as well as mental recuperation. We would mainly use horses, because that’s my specialty, but over time, I’d like to be able to have a facility in place to help with every aspect of rehab, even down to further career choices. I’m not sure how to make it all work, but that’s the idea, anyway.”

The table was silent. My mom was dabbing her eyes with her napkin. The constant elephant in the room was the fact that Shane should be sitting somewhere at this table. Probably in the very chair I occupied at that moment.

Steph was toying with the fork on her plate, and I took her hand and pressed my lips to the back of it.

My dad cleared his throat. “What made you consider this route, dear?”

She gave a small smile and squeezed my hand. “Well, sir, I started volunteering a while back with an ex-general who was having families out to his farm when they got off deployments. I get to work with them off and on, see them acclimate and relax. As much as they ever will. Everyone who comes to his place is able-bodied. Which is great. It’s really great. But their scars run deep. They’ve seen things that”—she stopped and blinked rapidly—“they’ve seen things I can’t even wrap my mind around. They have friends, brothers, sisters… they’ve given so much. I don’t have much family. And I’m not sure I’d be of much use in the military or anything like that. I’m not great with numbers and I’m kind of a wuss. But I’m very good with horses. I understand physiology. I understand psychology, to an extent. This is an area where I think I can help, where I can put some pieces together. In a way that others might not be able to.”