Echoes From The Past (Women of Character) Page 17

  Christie ran her tongue over dry lips. "I’ve already been here almost two weeks."

  "Think about it." He opened the chest freezer and lifted out a large brown container. "It’ll take me a few minutes to get this ice cream out. If you want, go relax in the living room and put on some music. There’s a bunch of CD’s on the shelves."

  "Sounds like a good idea." Christie left Garrett in the kitchen. She needed the breathing space. He’d asked her to stay longer.

  As she crossed the living room her interest was caught by the pictures lining the fireplace mantle. In one picture Garrett straddled a dirt bike, his hair disheveled as if he’d just lifted the helmet from his head. His wide daredevil grin hinted at a different man than the one she knew. Another picture showed an older man with his arm around a slim, blond-haired woman. The man and Garrett shared a striking resemblance, the same lean cheeks and deep, piercing eyes. It had to be his father so perhaps the woman was his mother.

  Christie saw various photographs of Hannah with family members, but Christie didn’t see any of Garrett and her sister.

  Christie looked through Garrett’s extensive collection of CDs. Not familiar with country music, she randomly chose several CDs and put them in the player.

  Opening the French doors, she stepped onto the terrace. The setting was romantic; warm breeze, muted light, a soft rustling in the brush. Sinking into a comfortable wicker rocker, she stifled a sigh, admitting she didn't know much about romance. Her experience had been limited to a brief engagement six years ago. She’d been young and Allen, her fiancé, had been shallow. An up and coming lawyer, he lived and breathed his work in the district attorney’s office, so much so that her background had ultimately gotten in the way of their future as he saw it. His ambition wouldn’t let him have anyone in his life who was less than perfect; whose family was still far from perfect.

  The past. . .vaguely, Christie heard the slight creak, back and forth, of her chair. For the moment, she felt incredibly content. . ..

  "Christie." Garrett’s voice sounded close to her ear.

  Christie turned her head and looked directly into Garrett’s blue eyes, his aftershave a pleasant, spicy scent. The man was too good looking for a woman’s peace of mind. Just being near him gave rise to fantasies galore.

  "Ice cream?"

  Blankly, she looked at the bowl he held out, then took it. It was filled with dark chocolate ice cream. "Mmm," she said, sitting up straight. Lifting her spoon, she licked off a large dollop of chocolate, her breath stopping for an instant as she noticed him watching her eat. "Delicious," she confirmed, licking the corner of her mouth where the creamy ice cream had dripped.

  Garrett touched his fingertip to her lips, then slowly brought that finger to his mouth and licked off the chocolate she’d missed.

  Christie quickly swallowed a spoonful of ice cream, stifling a groan as it went right to her head. Immediately, she put her hand to her forehead. "Brain freeze," she moaned, laughing.

  "Listen," he said. The music drifted from the living room, a slow, sad song about a woman crazy in love with a man. There was a sensual feel to the music, wrapping Christie up in the words and the tone of the song.

  "We have to dance to this." Garrett’s voice sounded almost reverent. "Patsy Cline is singing ‘Crazy’."

  The words were sad, evocative, touching something elemental inside Christie. Garrett held his hand out to her, palm up. Without thinking twice, Christie put her bowl on a small table and placed her palm in his, feeling the calloused texture of his skin, his large hand engulfing hers. Garrett coaxed her closer and he dipped his head toward her.

  Snapping out of her trance-like state, Christie pulled back. "I’ve never danced to country music."

  "It’s only the two of us," he admonished. "I know you can dance."

  "It’s not that I can’t --" she admitted.

  Garrett’s laugh was soft, mocking. "Follow me."

  His feet moved into a two-step as he guided her other hand to his shoulder. "Your feet are moving, Christie. Don’t hold back."

  Don’t hold back. Her feet fell into step with his, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

  "Just feel it," he whispered.

  She followed his lead as they danced slowly, the music winding around them, the night quiet and the flagstone smooth under their feet. Christie felt as if she had danced this intimately with Garrett before.

  When the music ended, the spell still hovered. Christie breathed deeply of the night fragrances, staring at Garrett.

  "I wonder how I’ve lived my entire life without knowing you. Just being here at the farm makes me realize another side of life. It’s been an incredible adventure." A new tightness grew in her chest. "How can I leave you and Hannah?" She almost felt dependent upon them, as if they’d become vital to her. She had thought in the last months she was too frozen up inside, too numb from loss to care again, but now she was thinking about staying longer. When the flame between them burned out she would have no choice but to leave.

  "Maybe you don’t have to leave." Garrett slowly released her, let his fingers slip down her wrist, trail gently to her elbow. With a sensual shiver, Christie lowered her hand to her side and stepped back. She dropped her other hand from his shoulder and rubbed her elbow where it still tingled.

  "Thank you for the dance." The words spilled from her too fast. She felt incredibly shaky and uncertain. How did one reach this stage in life, twenty-six years of age, without knowing the proper protocol to end a dance...to end an awkward, sexually charged moment? They had shared an intimate dance, and she wanted to curl around him and let him absorb her soul. She’d never wanted to give herself into someone else’s keeping, the very thought had always terrified her. Yet, when she looked at Garrett, she wanted him to do things to her she couldn’t even fathom.

  Christie looked around the terrace, her brain somewhat fuzzy. "Well, goodnight, Garrett." Feeling elated and let down at the same time, Christie backed away.

  "You didn't finish your ice cream."

  "I don't think I can eat any more."

  "I’ll walk you to the barn," he said, his voice steady, unruffled. Resentment filled Christie. Was she the only one suffering uncertainty?

  "I’ll find my way!" she declared, hating the emptiness inside. Blindly, she stepped off the terrace. "I know the barn is around the corner of the house and to the right."

  "I have a flashlight." Garrett caught up with her easily, shining the light on the ground at their feet. "I always keep one on the terrace."

  "You’re practical," Christie said, needing to speak, wanting to push back the intimacy that still held her in its grip. "Not me. Sometimes I’m as scatterbrained as they come." She gave a soft laugh. "Even Hannah’s more organized than I am. Her dolls are all in order, lined up by height and hair color." She let her voice trail off, knowing she was talking too much. "I like her," she added. "At times I’m not sure the feeling is returned."

  "She’s beginning to like you," he said, "though I’ll admit I don’t always understand an eight-year-old. Sometimes her moods swing between amazing clarity and then petulance."

  Christie’s heart went out to him. "Keep showing her you love her." The stone gravel crunched under their feet as they reached the barn entrance. "That’s all she really wants. See you tomorrow." She didn’t want the evening to end. She wanted soft words and intimate caresses. Moonlight whisperings and musky-scented sheets.

  Christie pulled her hand free of Garrett’s and scooted around him, but he put his hand against the door, preventing her from slipping inside. Christie’s heart pounded so hard he surely must hear it.

  Swallowing hard, she stared up at his silhouette. "What do you want, Garrett?" With the aid of the overhead security lights she could see him looking down at her.

  "More than I should," he admitted in a low voice, his hand feathering along her cheek. "Probably more than I deserve." Christie turned her face into his caress, craving his touch.

  His head
lowered, his mouth touched hers, hot, hard, everything she wanted in that moment. Christie gave herself totally up to the sensation of Garrett’s mouth on hers. Garrett’s chest pressed against her breasts and his hips were against hers, creating an ache Christie couldn’t deny. She wrapped her arms around his waist, running her hands down his back, feeling the ripple of muscle.

  Christie dipped her forehead against his shoulder, gulping in huge drafts of night air, feeling like she’d run for miles. Her entire body ached. Slowly, Garrett pulled away. Christie leaned back against the door and wrapped her arms around herself.

  "If I stay longer, things will get complicated," he said harshly. He appeared as affected by the kiss as she was.

  "You’re right. We don’t want complications!" she snapped. Christie slipped inside, frustration and hurt driving her up the stairs to her apartment. Why had he kissed her, made her want him and then walked away? She felt twisted up inside, honest enough to admit she’d wanted the night to end differently. She had wanted to take a risk. The risk of loving Garrett McIntyre, a man so different from everything she was used to. She was inviting only heartache. She had this deep down feeling that a part of him still belonged to Judith.

  Chapter Twelve

  Christie heard a roar from far off as she and Hannah lay on their towels beside the small pond. The last several days had seen a continuation of the searing heat. When Ruth suggested they go swimming, Christie realized it was the perfect way to relax on her day off. Hannah was excited when she asked her to come along and it had been an opportunity for them to get to know each other better. Of course, she’d also had plenty of time to wonder why Garrett had been making himself scarce in the last two days.

  The swimming hole was located in a bit of a hollow a fair distance behind the house, shaded by trees on one side. She and Hannah had spent an idyllic afternoon taking dips in the small pond. The manmade pond was fed by a stream that wound its way across the fields. When Sam had dropped them off here earlier, she had fallen in love with its quaintness.

  Christie could hear the sound coming closer. It sounded like a motorcycle. "Hannah, let’s get everything packed together."

  Hannah lay curled up on her towel like a lazy kitten. "I want to swim some more."

  Christie gently tugged one of Hannah’s ponytails. "Two minutes ago you looked ready to fall asleep. Time to go home," she said firmly. "Sam will be here soon to give us a ride."

  The roar grew louder, more menacing. Christie stood, a strange prickling zinging up her spine. "What’s that noise?"

  Hannah sat up and they both looked toward the top of the hill that led to the house. A rider on a bike was approaching down the narrow dirt track they’d used to get here. "That’s Daddy!" Hannah exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Daddy has his dirt bike out."

  The rider approached at a fast pace. From this distance Christie wasn’t sure it was Garrett. "Maybe it’s Randy," she murmured.

  "No, that’s Daddy’s red helmet."

  Fascinated, Christie watched as man and bike seemed to fly over a small hill. She held her breath until the bike landed safely on the ground, then closed the space between them quickly.

  With a slide and the hiss of tires on gravel, the bike came to a halt about fifteen yards away from them. The rider, dressed entirely in black, put out long, jean clad legs to straddle the machine, the helmet's black-visor hiding his face. Excitement gripped Christie. She wanted to confirm for herself that beneath the dark visor was Garrett, but a Garrett she had only suspected existed.

  ###

  Garrett allowed his gaze to sweep Christie's slim legs. Cut off shorts, slightly tanned belly and creamy breasts overflowed a skimpy bikini top. Garrett swallowed hard, fumbling with the chinstrap of his helmet.

  Balancing his bike, he cut the engine and lifted the helmet from his head. Pushing his fingers through his hair, he hung the helmet on the handlebar by the chin strap.

  "Garrett!" Christie’s voice vibrated through him. He looked over to see the awareness of him in her eyes. Sensual tension snapped between them.

  "Daddy!" Hannah said excitedly. "You told me you don’t ride anymore."

  Garrett threw his leg over the bike, knocked the kickstand in place and moved toward them. He lifted Hannah in the air. "I do today, sweetheart." He placed her back on the ground.

  "That was some entrance."

  Garrett turned to Christie. Her glance measured him from head to toe and Garrett felt as if she’d touched him. Mouth dry, he thought of the places he’d like her to touch.

  "Daddy, I want a ride," Hannah said.

  "You’re a brave kid," Christie said to Hannah. "After seeing your dad ride in here, I don't know if I'd want to ride with him."

  Garrett gave Christie a smile that matched his wicked mood. "We'd have one heck of a ride, Christie."

  Her eyes widened at his challenge. She moved closer to the bike. "I didn’t know you could ride these on the grass like that."

  Garrett stood on the opposite side of the bike. "It’s a dirt bike, built for this type of riding. It’s not street legal." He patted the bike’s handle grip, the gesture affectionate. "At one point my father just about disowned me. When I was younger I was in constant trouble for spooking our neighbor's cows with one of these."

  Christie regarded him laughingly. "You've piqued my interest. You were in trouble with the law?" He read the skepticism on her face.

  "Is that so hard to believe?"

  "Maybe not," she said with a small grin.

  Garrett looked away, certain every muscle in his body had come to attention. He was dirty from tinkering with the bike and his fingers still bore traces of grease, but here he was with his mind stuck on Christie and how he’d like to put her on the back of the bike and take her somewhere for some long, hot kisses ...

  "Daddy, I want a ride."

  Jerked back into the present, Garrett took note of Hannah’s slightly flushed cheeks. "Not tonight. You look like you’ve had a full day. I wouldn’t be surprised if you fall asleep at the dinner table."

  "Sam’s coming for us." Christie rolled up the wet towels and pulled on a shirt and shorts over her bathing suit. Slipping her feet into her sneakers, she leaned down to tie them.

  Garrett looked back along the road as a cloud of dust rose. "Here he is now."

  "Hannah, you’re tired and should ride back with Sam. I’m going back a different way so I’ll see you later," Christie said.

  "Are you going to pick those flowers we saw? I can help." Hannah opened her mouth on a big yawn.

  Christie laughed and hugged Hannah, surprising Garrett with the easy camaraderie that had developed between them. Knowing his daughter’s swing in emotions, he wondered if it would last.

  When Sam arrived in Garrett’s pickup truck they walked over to meet him. If he was surprised to see Garrett he didn’t say so, but helped them gather the girls’ small picnic basket and blankets. "Ruth said to tell you dinner will be on in about an hour. She said don’t be late."

  "Thanks, Sam. Will you be joining us tonight?" Garrett asked, waiting for Hannah to climb into the truck seat.

  "Yeah. I guess I’ve been invited." Sam smiled. "You know Ruth, she made up her mind we all have to try that new gazpacho or some such thing she made."

  "She’s got us all spoiled with her cooking."

  Christie stowed her towel in the back of the truck, then looked up at the sky. "I’m going on a short hike, Sam, so I’ll be walking back."

  "There’s wild dogs in the area," Garrett said. "It isn’t a good idea for you to roam on your own."

  Sam nodded agreement.

  "Randy shot one at Clarey’s farm down the road just the other day," Garrett said. "It was sick and looked rabid. I could give you a ride."

  The thought of her legs straddling the seat behind him, her arms tight around his waist ...

  She looked at his bike. "I don’t know -- the way you drove in here --"

  "I’d never put you in jeopardy. It would be a short rid
e."

  She hesitated, then said, "Okay."

  Garrett turned to Sam. "Go ahead and take Hannah to the house." He looked at his daughter. "Make sure you tell Ruth you’re back."

  "Okay, Daddy." She looked disappointed, but surprisingly made no argument. Sam wore a grin as he got into the truck and with a wave drove away.

  Garrett straddled the bike and turned the key, revving the engine. Un-strapping the other helmet he held it out to her. "Get on."

  From the moment she climbed on the seat behind him his backside was branded by the feel of her sun-warm bare legs. Looking down he saw her sneakers and slim ankles behind his own jean clad legs and steel toe boots.

  He revved the motor. "Sneakers aren’t the best idea on a dirt bike!" he yelled above the motor. "Keep your legs away from that exhaust pipe." He reached down to slide his hand down her leg, repositioning it away from the pipe. He liked its slim smoothness. "Ready?" he said. She tightened her legs until he felt the clench of her thigh muscles against him.

  Shit.

  Garrett stared straight ahead, giving himself a minute to get used to the feel of her pressed up against him, then realized it would take a lot longer than a minute. "Ready?" he asked again, hoarsely.

  She nodded her head vigorously, her face framed by the black helmet, her eyes sparkling and excited.

  Garrett moved the bike across the gravel and onto the uneven ground of the pasture.

  Christie’s arms hugged him, her palms flat against his stomach as her breasts pressed into his back. She wriggled to get comfortable and when he thought he couldn’t stand any more, she finally stopped moving. Garrett felt as if she was wound all around him.

  Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on the terrain before them.

  They hadn’t gone far when Christie nudged him. He stopped the bike and her hold loosened, then she climbed off the bike.

  She flung her arms out in uninhibited joy. "Garrett, this field is gorgeous. I can’t believe it’s been under my nose all this time."

  Bemused, he watched her run over to a bright patch of flowers and start picking blossoms. Christie ran back toward him and stuck the makeshift bouquet in his face. "Smell these." Cautiously, he looked for bees. She laughed at him. "Come on, it won’t hurt."