The Best Bride (47 page)

Sandy took a deep breath and prayed for patience. “Honey, it'll be fun for you. I feel badly that you haven't had a chance to make any friends your own age.” She glanced around at the large park. Children from five through fifteen milled around. The summer park program had started its last session, and Sandy had enrolled all three kids.

“I don't want to be friends with anyone dorky enough to do this,” Lindsay complained. “Look how weird-looking they are.”

She pointed at a pale, dark-haired boy wearing thick glasses and orthodontic headgear. Sandy bit back a smile. “You be nice to that boy,” she said. “He might be a nerd now, but in a few years, he might be the president of some fast-growing high-tech company. He'll be rich.”

Lindsay looked doubtful.

Sandy gave her a hug. “Come on. Just give it a try. One afternoon. If you hate it, I won't make you come back.”

“Promise?”

Sandy nodded. She gave Lindsay a little push toward the row of tables set up by the parking lot. The posted signs told children to register by age group. “I swear I won't force you to do it again. But you have to try. No sitting in the corner and sulking.”

Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Mom, it's a park. There aren't any corners.”

“You know what I mean. Now, Robby's mom is going to give you a ride home. I'm going to the grocery store this afternoon. If I'm not back before you guys, you know what to do.”

“Stay inside with the door locked. Watch TV and avoid snacks that require heating. We've been over this a hundred times. I'm twelve. Lots of girls my age are baby-sitting.”

“I know. I can't help worrying. Do you have your house key?”

Lindsay pulled a chain up from behind her yellow T-shirt. The house key dangled on the end.

Sandy bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

“Bye.” Lindsay turned and walked toward the registration tables. A cute boy who looked about fourteen smiled at her. Lindsay tossed her head and suddenly looked incredibly grown-up. They were changing fast, Sandy thought as she returned to her car.

She paused before getting in and scanned the park. Children played everywhere. The younger kids were on the far side, so she couldn't see Nichole, but Blake and his new best friend, Robby, had already joined a softball game in progress. Her son was laughing as he waited his turn at bat.

She slipped into the driver's seat and started the engine. Blake was going to be all right. For a long time, she'd worried about her only son. No matter what she'd said to Thomas, she couldn't convince her husband that his son needed him. Thomas had neglected the boy shamefully. It didn't help that she knew why. Blake was too much like Thomas—the red hair, the glasses, the slight build. After all her years of marriage, she'd finally realized that Thomas liked his dangerous sports because they proved his
masculinity. He'd been ridiculed as a child for being small and skinny. She thought that might have made him more compassionate with Blake, but it hadn't. Instead, he'd turned his back on his son, and Blake had been the one to suffer.

That was changing, Sandy reminded herself as she drove down the quiet streets of Glenwood. They were all starting to fit in. Sandy and Robby's mother, Alice, had become friendly. They were sharing car-pool responsibilities for the summer camp. Nichole and Mandy had become best friends. Blake had Robby. Only Lindsay hadn't met someone her own age. Hopefully, the camp would change that.

She turned onto her street. Overhead, tall, leafy trees touched over the center of the road creating a tunnel of shade. She liked the older houses with the wide porches and big windows. She liked that she knew her neighbors, that they waved when they saw her and that she could let her children play outside without worrying about them. She was a long way from Los Angeles, but she didn't miss the city at all.

She turned down her driveway—and hit the brake. Kyle was waiting for her in front of her house. He sat on the porch stairs and next to him was his large, black motorcycle. Nestled together on the seat were two safety helmets.

He'd promised to teach her how to have fun. Did this mean the lessons began today?

She eased the car forward. Self-consciously, she touched her hair. She hadn't done anything but slip on a headband. Her red shorts and white T-shirt were clean, but not especially stylish. She wasn't ready for this.

She'd seen Kyle a few times since she'd gone to apologize to him, but he hadn't said anything about having fun together. She'd thought maybe he'd forgotten or had just been kidding. In the deepest, most secret part of her heart,
she'd been disappointed. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten, he'd simply been biding his time.

She stopped the car and got out. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He stood up. Six feet two inches of lean, sexy male. Worn button-fly jeans hugged his hips and thighs. His tank shirt exposed tanned, muscled shoulders. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but his mouth was smiling. Did he know what he did to her? Did he sense that her stomach clenched every time she saw him or that her heart pounded harder and faster? Did he know he made her palms damp and her knees tremble? She kept waiting for her nervous reaction to him to go away, but it didn't. She wondered if it ever would.

“I thought we'd go for a ride,” he said, walking over to the bike.

“I've never been on a motorcycle before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Then it's time. Go put your purse inside.”

She ran upstairs and unlocked the front door. After dropping her purse on the floor of the coat closet, she tucked her keys into her shorts' pocket, stepped back outside and locked the door behind her.

Kyle had already put on his helmet and straddled the bike. He looked dangerous and exciting. He tempted her and she didn't know how to resist. She told herself she should. He would only bring her pain and heartache. But she didn't want to listen to that voice today. She didn't want to hear dire warnings about what might happen in the future. She wanted to live for the moment.

“Come on,” he said, holding out the extra helmet.

She walked down the stairs and took it from him. When she'd settled it on her head, he adjusted the chin strap. “How does that feel?” he asked. “Shake your head and see how loose it is.”

She quickly turned her head from side to side. “It's fine.” The fit was perfect. Too perfect. “So, how many women have you taken out on this thing?” she asked, motioning to the bike.

He laughed. “Not many. Don't worry. It's not part of my seduction routine. I don't need props. Slide on behind me.”

Of course he didn't. She was walking, breathing
quivering
proof of that. His raw sexuality was enough to seduce anyone.

She glanced at the house. She'd planned to spend her afternoon lining her dresser drawers and relaxing. She glanced back at Kyle. The drawers could wait. After all, how often did a woman like her get to spend an afternoon with a man like him? She might as well experience the Haynes charm full on. Besides, she'd always wanted to ride a motorcycle.

She rested her hand on his shoulder for balance, then slipped her leg over the seat. When she was settled, he showed her where to put her feet.

“Hang on,” he said, grabbing her hands and pulling them around to hug his midsection. “I'm about to change your life.”

K
yle had thought the motorcycle ride would be fun for Sandy. He hadn't given any thought to what it would mean to him. As he headed down the driveway toward the street, he felt her shifting on the seat, trying to get comfortable. He grinned. The ride was going to be pure torture, and he couldn't think of anything he wanted more.

From breasts to knees, her body pressed against him. He could feel the heat of her. Slender thighs cradled his rear, her hands gripped his midsection. The neighbor's dog came running out to bark at them. Sandy laughed and he felt the vibration through his back.

At the bottom of the driveway, he paused. “Lean into the turns,” he said. “That'll help me steer. I'm not going to go fast, or get on the highway, so don't be scared.”

“I'm not,” she said into his ear. “I like it already.”

He liked it, too. “Hold on,” he called and hit the gas.

They turned onto the narrow residential street. At the
stop sign, he turned left, then left again at the first light. They headed toward the west side of town, which was less populated. Sandy clung to him. He moved with the speed of traffic. It was a warm summer afternoon. Mothers and their children walked along the wide shady sidewalks in front of the stores in the shopping section. To their left was the park where Sandy had taken her kids for the summer program.

“Do you think they can see us?” she asked as they drove past the children.

“I don't think so. They won't recognize you with your helmet.”

He thought she said “good” but he wasn't sure. At the next signal, he put his feet on the asphalt and steadied the bike with his legs. “You're squeezing the stuffing out of me,” he called over his shoulder.

“Oh.” She glanced over his shoulder at her hands clutching together in front of his belly. “Sorry. What should I do?”

He was making it worse, he told himself. He was a fool for taunting himself with what he couldn't have. At least not today. But he wanted to feel her touching him, and he wasn't above using devious means to make that happen.

“Try keeping your hands flat. That way, you won't be able to squeeze so tight.”

She had been holding on pretty hard, but it hadn't bothered him. When she did as he asked and opened her hands so her palms pressed against him, he had to hold back a groan. Her touch was sweeter than he'd thought it would be. He reacted instantly and predictably. Good thing they were on a public street, otherwise he would be tempted to push her hands lower, to the hardness pressing against the button-fly of his jeans.

The light turned green and he maneuvered them through
the traffic. As they continued to drive through town, they passed fewer and fewer cars. At the turnoff for the highway, he went in the opposite direction, circling around the industrial park and coming out on a two-lane road that narrowed quickly. About three miles up the way was a park. Hardly anyone used it, even in the summer. He thought it would be quiet there and they could spend some time getting to know each other.

He'd planned the outing specifically for a time when her kids were gone, but he knew himself. If he and Sandy stayed someplace private, like his house or hers, the temptation to make love would be too strong. He wasn't worried about her rejecting him. He was more concerned about her saying yes and then having second thoughts. Better for them not to do it, than for her to live with regrets.

But he didn't want to think about that now. Not with the soft summer-afternoon breeze blowing in his face and Sandy plastering herself against him.

She laughed again. “Everything looks different from the back of the bike,” she called. “It's as if I'm seeing Glenwood for the first time.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it! Don't turn, okay?”

Before he could answer or ask why, she released him and raised her arms in the air.

“Look at me!” she called.

“Damn it, Sandy, hang on. You could hurt yourself.”

“I'm fine.”

“I mean it,” he growled. He didn't dare turn around and look at her. He didn't want to jiggle the bike at all and upset her balance.

“You're a stick-in-the-mud,” she said, leaning close to him again and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“And you're crazy.”

“Maybe.” She rested her chin on his shoulder. “I like this a lot. I might get a bike.”

“Sure. It's real practical with three kids.”

She chuckled. “Now you sound like me.”

Up ahead he saw the park. At one end were several brick barbecues and rest rooms. He drove past those to the small duck pond surrounded by grass and trees. Several picnic tables had been put in place. He slowed the bike, then stopped it. After standing up, he moved forward on the seat.

“You can slide off now,” he told her.

“Okay.” Sandy grabbed his shoulder as she swung her leg over the seat, then she stepped away. While he set the kickstand, she pulled off her helmet.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with excitement. “That was terrific. I can't wait to do it again. Can I drive home?”

He looked at her. This was not the Sensible Sandy he remembered, but he liked this adventurous woman. “No. It's not as easy as it looks.”

“Kyle.” She actually pouted at him. She stuck out her lower lip and tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure?”

He fought against the need to pull her hard against him and kiss her into forgetfulness. “I'll teach you to ride the bike, but not here. The parking lot is too small and it wouldn't be safe.”

“But you will teach me.”

“Yes, I said so.”

“Good.”

While he took off his helmet, she walked toward the small pond. A family of ducks were taking their nap on the grassy slope. She walked close to them, stopping only when one of the large birds opened its eyes and glared at her.

“I won't hurt you,” she promised, bending toward the ducks. “It's okay.”

Her red shorts pulled tight across her derriere. As Kyle walked toward her, his palms itched to cup those curves and pull her against his arousal. He was so hard, it hurt. He welcomed the pain. He liked that Sandy turned him on. In a strange way, he liked knowing they couldn't make love today. The anticipation would make the consummation sweeter.

He placed his hand on the small of her back. She straightened and smiled at him. A headband held her light brown hair off her face. It had grown in the last few weeks and now fell about an inch below her shoulders. He liked the way her hair moved easily and caught the light. Hell, he liked everything about her.