Taste of Lacey (17 page)

Since it was raining, Lacey decided not to flatiron her hair. Instead she parted her wavy mane on the side and tucked the longer front sections behind her ears. Then she moisturized every single inch of her body with the citrusy scented lotion Rye loved. She put on a little makeup and the celery-green fitted dress that went well with her pecan coloring. She’d just sat on the living room sofa to wait for Rye when the garage door opened. He was a half hour early, and her center tingled at the possibility of him making good on his promise. As usual, she was ready and willing.

She met him in the mudroom. “Hi, you,” she said, walking into his arms.

“I missed you, baby,” he told her after a steamy kiss. “You are stunning. And you smell so damn good.”

“I missed you too.” Lacey smiled as she ran her hand over his rock-hard chest. With their relationship on a different level, she felt comfortable saying those words out loud instead of letting them rattle inside her head. His gorgeous form looked like he just stepped from the pages of
GQ Magazine
. A crisp white linen button-down with sleeves rolled to his elbows and faded charcoal slacks molded to his muscular thighs suited him to perfection. Lord have mercy, her man was fine.

“Thank you for the sheets. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re welcome, and hell yes, I did. I plan on messing up a fair amount of your delicate linens posthaste.”

She shook her head and laughed. “You’re so bad.”

“On every level,” he confirmed. Rye settled his palms on her butt cheeks and pulled her against his straining erection. “He knows we’re home.”

“She knows you’re home too,” Lacey returned in a throaty whisper.

“As bad as I want to be buried inside you, we’ve got to move. Tornado and flash flood watches were just issued, and my mother is about to drive me crazy wondering if we’re still coming.”

“Is it safe to go?”

“I’m more afraid of disappointing my mother than I am of any tornado or flood. She’s been looking so forward to tonight for a whole month. We’ll be fine if we leave now and take our time,” he said confidently as he led her out the door.

Aside from the heavy rain, the weather held out, and with Rye’s capable navigation, they arrived at the McKay residence in the usual twenty-minute travel time.

“How long are your folks going to be visiting your grandmother’s family in Detroit?” Rye asked as he looked over at the Bishops’ home before pulling into his parents’ garage.

“Another week, thank goodness,” Lacey muttered.

“Lacey,” Rye chided.

“Well, it’s true. If they were home, we’d feel obligated to at least go over and say hello, and my mother would say something to offend one of us, we’d argue, and one thing would lead to another, and on and on and on. Do you feel like dealing with that tonight?”

“I see your point.”

“Good. Do I look okay?” she asked for the fourth time as she smoothed her dress over her hips.

“What are you worried about? You’ve been here a million times, and you look beautiful.”

“That was before I knew what you look like naked.” Lacey paused and arched her brow. “And before you dined on my southern cuisine.”

Rye’s entire body shook with laughter. “Baby, you never cease to amaze me,” he said as he entwined their fingers and led her into the house.

As soon as they turned the corner, Rye’s mother gave them an enthusiastic greeting. “Hi, honey. Hello, Lacey. So glad you could make it. The weather is awful, and I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to come. Rye’s not scared to drive in crazy conditions like this, but it would terrify me. Of course Jackson would be the one driving, not me—”

“Emily Ann, you’re smothering the poor girl.” Rye’s father approached Lacey and kissed her on the cheek. “Welcome, Lacey. Good to see you.”

Jensen watched quietly, but then she squealed and grabbed Lacey in a rocking hug. She stepped back and held Lacey’s hands in hers. “You guys are so cute together! At first I couldn’t believe it; Rye has never had a real girlfriend in his life. But it’s really true!”

“Yes, and I’d like to keep her,” Rye said with a lopsided grin as he pried Lacey from Jensen’s clasp and pulled her to his side.

Finally, Lacey’s nerves settled, and she was relieved. Once everyone had a glass of wine, they chatted about the weather and any other thing that came to mind. Jensen, who was four years younger than Lacey and a third-year resident at Johns Hopkins, brought Lacey up to speed on current events in her life.

When Rye’s mother announced dinner, they walked into the dining room, and Jensen wove her arm through Lacey’s. “I am happy for you and my brother. You’re just what he needs.”

“Thank you. That means a lot,” Lacey said as she hugged the beautiful blonde who looked so much like Rye. Lacey was overwhelmed with the family’s outpouring of support. It seemed as long as Rye was happy, they were ecstatic, and nothing else mattered, not even the racial difference. If only pleasing her family were as simple. She hurried and squashed her anxiety; she wanted to enjoy this loving family and have a wonderful evening.

“The snapper is delicious, Mrs. McKay,” Lacey complimented after the first bite of the tender, flavorful fish.

“Oh, thank you,” Rye’s mother gushed. “I’m sure it’s not up to your level of expertise, but it was fun experimenting with a new recipe. And please call me Emily Ann.”

After the meal, Lacey followed the McKay crew and adjourned in the den to watch updates about the weather on television. If she weren’t enjoying the evening so much, the loud thunderstorms and lightning would be a bit scary. However, she made the best of it and agreed to play a game of charades at Jensen’s suggestion. Even Rye’s and Jackson’s agonized groans didn’t deter them.

“Ignore him,” Lacey and Emily Ann said at the same time, eliciting a round of laughter at the coincidence.

Lacey and Rye formed one team, Jackson and Jensen another, while Emily Ann moderated. Father and daughter were fierce competitors, so Rye mapped out strategy between sets. Each time Lacey made a guess with time to spare, Rye rewarded her with a smacking kiss right on the lips. Before they could finish the game, the lights flickered and then went out. Jackson went and turned on the generator, but when he got back, Emily Ann decided it would be fun to use candles instead of turning on the lights.

“Wouldn’t it be romantic to tell stories by candlelight, like we’re camping out?” Emily Ann suggested.

Jensen rolled her eyes. “Hello? Unattached person over here.”

“Yes, and when are you going to do something about it?” Emily Ann questioned her daughter.

“Stories by candlelight it is,” Jensen chirped, obviously preferring to play the game solo than answer questions about her love life.

While Jackson lit pillar columns, Rye surprised Lacey by scooping her onto his lap and sinking back into the comfortable cushions on the sofa. Her heart thudded like a tribal drum from being in such an intimate embrace in front of his family, but when no one else seemed to think much of it, she relaxed and enjoyed being close to him.

In a slight departure from the rustic experience, Rye’s father turned on the television. A breaking-news report advised strong winds had downed power lines and swept them onto the interstate, rendering main routes impassable.

“It’s settled. You two are staying here tonight,” Jackson said.

Alarmed, Lacey tried to separate herself from Rye. “I don’t want to be any trouble. I can go next door.”

“Absolutely not,” Rye growled in a tone leaving no room for argument.

“Nonsense. You’re more than welcome to stay here,” Emily Ann chimed in. “Rye’s old room will accommodate both of you. I insist.”

Lacey’s eyes grew round at the assumption that she and Rye would bunk together. Her mother’s head would rotate three hundred sixty degrees if she found out her child slept in bed with a man who wasn’t her husband under someone else’s roof. All the freaky deeds they performed at Lacey’s own house, well, that was one thing, but disregarding her mother’s expectations away from home was quite another.

“Mom, how about the guest room? I’m sure Lacey will be comfortable there,” Rye said, and then he looked at Lacey and winked.

“Sure,” Emily Ann replied. “I’ll change the linens and turn down the covers.” The generator is working but they hadn’t turned the lights on in order to conserve the power. She flipped on the light switch and then went up the stairs, brushing off Lacey’s offer of help.

Jensen gave Lacey and her brother a good-night hug. “Dad, the candlelight thing was a blast, but I’m glad you turned on the generator. I’ve gotta get some heavy-duty reading in before I can sleep tonight.”

“Sure thing, baby.” Jackson gave his daughter an indulgent smile. Then he turned toward his son and Lacey. “See you guys in the morning.”

“Night, Dad.”

“Good night, Mr. McKay,” Lacey said as she hugged Rye’s older, equally handsome almost twin. Judging by Mr. McKay, her man’s fineness was only going to get better with time.

“Jackson to you, young lady,” he informed Lacey. She corrected her error with a smile.

“Come on. I’ll show you to your room,” Rye said before directing Lacey up the stairs and down a long hallway. Emily Ann met them coming out of the room she’d prepared for Lacey.

“You’re all set, dear. There’s a nightgown on the bed, and all the toiletries you need are in the attached bathroom. Have a good night,” Emily Ann said before she kissed each of them on the cheek and then made her way down the stairs.

Rye stepped behind Lacey and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What a way to spend Pill Day, huh?” He chuckled and squeezed her behind.

Lacey looped her arms around his neck. “No matter what the circumstances, it was still a thousand times better than lunch at the Bishops,” she pointed out.

Rye laughed and then lowered his lips to hers. He moaned as he bit at her lips. When she flicked her tongue out, he first sucked it into his mouth and then lapped at her like a thirsty man finding water.

“You taste so damn sweet. What I wouldn’t give to have you under me in a bed anywhere else on the planet.”

“I know,” she whispered, pulling him tighter. “But I also know you’ll make up for it.”

“You’re damn right,” he growled as he cupped her breasts in his hands. Way too soon, Rye stepped back and dropped his arms to his sides. “You know where I am if you need me.”

Lacey nodded, already missing his warmth and the comfort of his presence.

“I’m leaving while I still can.”

“Good night, Rye,” she whispered, her heart and body aching.

“Good night, baby,” he said before closing the door.

* * * *

Lacey lay wide-awake in the very comfortable bed, praying for sleep to no avail. Just when she was about to click on the lamp to browse one of the magazines she’d spotted in the bathroom, she heard the bedroom door open.

“Rye,” she whispered as she made out his shadowy figure. “What are you doing?”

“Getting my baby,” he returned before scooping her out of the bed and into his arms like she weighed nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep worth a damn with you in the same house and not in my arms.”

“I couldn’t either,” she whispered as she laid her head on his hard chest, relieved he felt the same as she did. “Are we going to your room?”

Rye chuckled. “No. I’m not giving your mother any other reasons to come after my ass.”

A second later, they were in the comfortable den where Rye had already covered the sofa with a sheet and blanket. “In here?”

“Yep. Lena might not want you sleeping in my bed, but she didn’t say a damn thing about sharing a couch with me.” He lay down and pulled her into his arms. Within minutes, she was asleep.

* * * *

Lacey joined the others for the breakfast feast Emily Ann prepared. Rye took her around so she could admire the new blooms in his parents’ garden. The tour ended at his father’s workshop. “I wanted you to see something I’ve never shown anyone other than my family.”

“Oh my God, Rye,” Lacey whispered as she glided her fingertips over the beautiful woodworking pieces he’d created. She was almost afraid to touch the intricate patterns carved into the music box, the magazine rack, and plate holder. There were no words to describe the beauty of the footstool he’d crafted from solid redwood.

“These are breathtaking. I had no idea you were so talented.”

Rye grinned. “I get it from my dad. And it’s great therapy. See the pelican rising out of the tree trunk? I made it after I found out about your little date,” he said, his gaze burning through her.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll see what I can do about irritating you on a regular basis.”

Rye pulled her close and swatted her butt. “Yeah, and this fine ass will go across my knees if you ever do some shit like that again.”

“Promise?”

“Fuck, Lacey.” He palmed the rounded curve of her behind and ground against her. “If I don’t get inside you soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Lacey dotted several soft kisses on his swollen lips and then leaned her forehead against his chest. “Your parents are enjoying having their children at home together. Let’s spend a bit more time with them; then we’ll go home.”

He kept his erection at her center for a long moment before releasing her.

At lunchtime, Lacey booted Emily Ann out of the kitchen and scrounged around until she found ingredients for iced shrimp on a bed of spinach to go with the hot day.

Jackson snagged a second serving of salad. “Damn, son, if I were you, I wouldn’t let this beautiful, talented woman get away.”

“Believe me, Dad, I have no intention of letting her go,” Rye replied, locking Lacey’s startled gaze with his.

Chapter Twenty

At the brownstone, Rye followed Lacey to her bedroom and began stripping off his clothes. There was no point in pretending how he wanted this evening to end: as deep as he could possibly get inside her. He’d all but dragged her from his parents’ home as soon as he saw a break.

“Monica left a message asking if we want to—”

“No.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her scowl. “You didn’t even let me finish.”