A Little Light Magic Page 13

  “Renovating that little house?”

  “I doubt it. He doesn’t do small rehabs like that.” She stared for another moment, then shrugged and turned toward home. “Maybe it’s not Dad’s truck. Come on. I talked Mimi into letting me go out, but she made me promise to be home by seven.”

  “Wait a sec. Someone’s coming out on the porch. Hell, Leigh, it is your dad.” He gave a low whistle. “And he’s with someone.”

  She looked back. It was her dad, all right, tugging a dark-haired woman by the hand. From this distance it was hard to tell, but Leigh thought she might be pretty. She couldn’t believe it. And it got worse. Working? She didn’t think so. Not when he was crowding the woman into a corner of the porch rail and kissing her. It wasn’t a quick kiss, either. It was deep, and long, and probably involved tongues.

  “Oh, gross,” Leigh gasped, just as Jason said, “Whoa. Your dad’s got a babe.”

  The woman’s arms snaked around Leigh’s dad’s neck. His hands were on her waist, pulling her flush against his body.

  “Sweet,” Jason said, grinning.

  “Oh. My. God,” Leigh said. “He lied to me! He said he was working late.”

  Jason slung his arm over Leigh’s shoulders. “Well, babe, at least now you know what he’s been working on.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The oldest child in a big family learns to respect the rules at an early age. And never forgets them.

  “How can you eat that…that…heart attack on a bun?”

  Tori shoved a fork into her salad, but her gaze kept drifting to Nick’s cheesesteak. A large Coke sat on the table near his elbow. It had to be the unhealthiest meal ever invented. She half expected him to keel over right in front of her.

  But, God, it smelled good.

  Aunt Millie used to feed Tori cheesesteaks. She used to say Tori needed fattening up. She grimaced. She didn’t need fattening up now—a sub roll smothered with fried steak and cheese would go straight to her butt, which God knew was big enough as it was. But Nick, damn him, bit into the zillion fat calories without the least show of remorse.

  “A guy’s gotta die of something,” he said.

  She fought the urge to lean across the table and lick his lips. “Surely you can think of a more creative way to kill yourself.”

  He took a swig of his soda before answering. “Hey, I’m not a total loss. I work out almost every day.”

  Her gaze wandered from his mouth to his chest. She had no trouble remembering what he looked like with his shirt off. And after that kiss on the porch, she didn’t need any reminders about what it felt like to be in his arms, either. Of course he worked out.

  “What do you do?” she asked. “Lift weights?”

  “Yeah. That and swim.”

  “In the ocean?”

  “Used to. Now it’s mostly at a health club.”

  “Oh.” She toyed with her iceberg lettuce, trying to ignore the aroma radiating from Nick’s sub roll.

  He caught her eye. “Want a bite?”

  Yes. “No.” She attacked a perfectly innocent cherry tomato with her fork. “I’m vegan, remember?”

  “Yeah, so you said.”

  “No animal products.”

  “Well, have some garlic knots, at least. That salad doesn’t look like enough to keep you breathing for a day.” He waved to the waitress and ordered a dozen.

  “I’ve cut out white flour, too.” Chelsea had been particularly adamant about that.

  Nick snorted. When the waitress delivered the plate, he picked up a plump knot of baked pizza dough dripping with olive oil. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he leaned forward and brushed it against her bottom lip.

  “Just one,” he said. “For me.”

  Tori hardly even wavered before she caved.

  The salty, garlicky knot tasted like heaven. Her eyelids shut as she chewed. After a long, ecstatic moment, she swallowed and opened her eyes again.

  Nick was looking at her oddly.

  He pushed the plate across the table. “Here. Have another one. Hell, have them all. You looked like you were about to freaking come right there on the table.”

  Her cheeks blotched. “God. You are so crude. How do you ever manage to get a date?”

  “I have my ways.” His gaze shifted to her mouth.

  She licked the last bit of oil from her bottom lip. Nick’s eyes went dark. Suddenly, the table between them seemed very flimsy.

  He leaned across it.

  His lips touched hers. Her heart pounded; her blood hummed in her veins. Her brain turned to organic oatmeal.

  A heartbeat later, he pulled back. She couldn’t stifle her gasp of protest.

  He did his slow smile. “Hold that thought.”

  “I…I wasn’t thinking anything.”

  “Liar.” Grinning, he signaled to the waitress for the check. “Done with your salad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then come on.” He dropped a five on the table for the tip and grabbed her hand.

  “Where to?” she asked as he paid for their meal at the register.

  “The Dairy Bar.”

  “Soft ice cream?” Wow, that sounded better than sex. Well, maybe not better than sex with Nick. Except…

  “I can’t eat ice cream.”

  He sent her a skeptical look. “Why the hell not? It’s not meat.”

  “But it’s not vegan. It’s full of animal fat. And I’m not supposed to eat sugar, either.” Another one of Chelsea’s rules.

  But she let him drag her there anyway.

  The Dairy Bar was a tiny corner ice-cream stand done in funky turquoise-and-pink decor, a lovingly restored relic from the fifties. It was a popular place, judging from the small crowd gathered at the walk-up windows. Parents with kids. A cluster of teenagers. A few chatty middle-aged women. Quite a few senior citizens. Tori remembered coming here with Aunt Millie, way back when. Tori used to sit at one of the picnic tables and lick her cone as slowly as she could, trying to make it last forever.

  It never did.

  “I can’t believe this place is still here,” she said. “That no one’s torn it down to build condos.”

  Nick steered her into line behind an elderly couple. “You want vanilla or chocolate?”

  “I told you, I don’t want one at all. You go ahead, though.”

  He ordered a large vanilla cone. Stepping away from the stand, he locked eyes with Tori and took a long lick, dragging his tongue across the white swirl.

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Here.” He held the cone a tantalizing inch from her lips. “Have a taste.”

  She couldn’t stop herself. Her tongue snaked out. Licked. It was icy-smooth, a sweet dream. Her eyelids fluttered shut as the sugar rush washed over her.

  When she opened her eyes, Nick said, “God, Tori. Do that again.”

  “No. One lick was enough.”

  “Not hardly.” Bringing the cone to his lips, he licked the furrow her tongue had made in the ice cream, twirling the cone in a slow circle. She watched, mesmerized.

  She wanted to feel it on her own skin. Nick’s tongue, not the ice cream.

  Oh, heck. Maybe the ice cream, too.

  A sudden, vivid image sprang into her mind: Nick painting her naked body with alternating stripes of chocolate and vanilla soft-serve. Then licking the ice cream off with sure, strong strokes.

  She shivered.

  Nick did his slow smile. “Another lick?”

  “Um…I’d better not.”

  “Oh, come on.” He waggled his brows. “You know you want it.”

  Pure mirth flashed in Tori’s green eyes. Her husky laugh came an instant later. Nick grinned like a teenager on his first date. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman who really seemed to appreciate his personal brand of warped humor.

  “You are so bad,” she said, still laughing. Her hand closed on his wrist, pushing the cone away from her face.

  Her touch affected him more than he wan
ted to admit. What was it about this woman? She made him feel like a kid. He wanted to tease her, make her laugh, laugh with her. At the same time, he wanted to hold her, and keep her safe from everything except him.

  “I can be a lot badder.” He moved the cone toward her face, despite the resistance of her hand wrapped around his wrist. He painted her lips white.

  She licked it off, the pink tip of her tongue sweeping the cream into her mouth.

  Christ.

  He smeared her lips with more soft-serve. Dear Lord, he was getting hard, right here on the sidewalk. He should back off. Now. But he couldn’t make himself do it.

  She licked her lips again. The cone cracked in his fist. He couldn’t take much more of this. Not in public, anyway.

  Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting on a sigh. His brain hazed with lust. He slid the tip of the ice cream swirl between her lips. Her grip on his wrist tightened, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, she moved his hand back and forth, guiding the cone in and out and in again. And again.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

  She looked up at him, green eyes dancing. The pink tip of her tongue licked ice cream from her lips in slow motion. That was when he realized she was teasing him. On purpose.

  If he’d been hard before, he was a damn steel rebar now.

  He shoved the cone into her hands. “Here. Take it. Get rid of it. Fast. Unless you want me to perform an indecent act on you right here on the sidewalk, in front of all these little kids.”

  Tori’s eyes sparkled. “You’re the one who insisted I needed ice cream.”

  “Yeah. What was I thinking?”

  She just smiled and took another lingering lick.

  Nick sucked in a breath. “Let’s go back to your place.”

  “No,” she said, a speculative gleam in her eyes. “Let’s go to the beach.”

  “The beach? Now? It’s getting dark.”

  “All the more reason. I love the beach at night. When I lived with Aunt Millie I used to sneak out after she was asleep.”

  “How old were you then?”

  “Eleven.”

  Nick frowned. Leigh had done the same damn thing when she was that age, and he’d grounded her for a month. “Eleven’s too young to be wandering alone on the beach at night. You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

  “I never thought about that. The ocean called me. I used to sit in the lifeguard stand and watch the moon on the waves.”

  She licked more ice cream, and his brain blanked.

  “Can we go?” she asked.

  “Okay, sure.” He’d have agreed to anything just about then. He’d much rather go straight back to her place, but a moonlit walk on the beach didn’t sound so bad.

  It’d be a great prelude to sex.

  Tori walked with Nick the few blocks to the beach. They left their shoes at the bottom of the wooden access stair that breached the seawall. When they reached the ocean’s edge, Tori splashed in until the water was up to her knees. It was surprisingly warm. Nick followed, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

  Her bottom nestled between his thighs. She felt him harden against her lower back as a gentle blanket of night descended around them. The crash of the surf blocked the noise from the street, creating a cocoon of intimacy.

  She wasn’t a fool. She knew what all this flirting was leading up to. And right then and there, she decided to go with it, even though it was probably a bad idea. Her plan was to have a baby, not start a relationship. But her treacherous mind couldn’t help wondering if Nick’s little daughter would like a younger brother or sister.

  Dangerous musings, she knew. They’d only just met. Even if somehow things moved along in the direction of commitment, it would take months, probably a year or two to get to the point where they were married and talking about kids. And according to the doctor, Tori just didn’t have that kind of time.

  A wave rolled in, splashing their legs. It receded quickly, at an angle to the shoreline, a strong undertow sucking the sand from around Tori’s feet. She pushed her doubts away and settled back in Nick’s arms. This was just one night. She didn’t have to let it mean anything.

  He nuzzled her neck, sending tingles zinging through her body. “So am I forgiven for last week? Honestly, at the time, I didn’t stop to think how the phone call might sound to you.”

  “I shouldn’t have shut you out afterward. I should’ve just asked you the next day what it was all about.”

  “It just about killed me to leave you that night, you know. I think my balls are still blue.”

  “Aw, you poor thing.” She twisted in his arms, a smile on her lips. Then, because the crashing surf felt so inviting, she said, “Let’s go in.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” He turned them both toward the street.

  “No! Not ‘go in’ like in ‘go home.’ I meant, let’s go in the water.”

  He stopped and peered down at her. “What are you, nuts? It’s dark.”

  “So? That’ll just make it more fun.” She slipped out of his embrace and waded out deeper.

  He grabbed for her; she danced out of reach.

  “Tori! Come back here! You don’t even have a suit on.”

  The water was up to her waist now. She spun so the next breaker crashed against her back. The wave hit Nick front-on, soaking him to the hips.

  “Come on, Tori. Cut it out. This isn’t a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s dark and the tide’s going out. There’s an undertow. It doesn’t take much to—”

  “You worry too much, you know that?”

  “It’s not a case of worrying. It’s a case of not being stupid.” Another wave crashed. “Shit. My pants are soaked.”

  She moved back to him, laughing, and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his shorts. “Take them off, then.”

  He blocked her quest to loosen his belt buckle. “I’ll be more than happy to,” he said. “At your place.”

  “Just a quick swim first.”

  “No.”

  She let go and backed out of his reach. “Fine. I’ll go in by myself, then.”

  “Damn it.” He made another grab for her.

  She ducked, falling back into the water with a laugh. “It feels great,” she called.

  Nick waded in to his waist. “That’s not funny, Tori. Get back here.”

  She felt giddy. “Come and get me!”

  She flung her arms wide. A wave broke over her shoulders and head. Nick called again, but she ignored him and turned to dive under the next breaker. It was a big one, and it dragged her under, churning overhead. Tori was a good swimmer; she knew better than to fight the turbulence. She held her breath and stayed under until the water calmed.

  She surfaced to Nick’s frantic shout. “Tori!”

  He was looking where she’d been; she was now about ten yards down the beach. She waved. “Over here!”

  He slogged to her side. “That’s it.”

  He grabbed her arm, hauled her out of the water, and dumped her on the sand. The impact of her butt hitting the beach had her gasping for breath.

  She stared up at him. “What’d you do that for?”

  “That was a goddamned dangerous stunt.”

  She scrambled to her feet. “No, it wasn’t. I’m a very strong swimmer.”

  “So are a lot of people who drown.” He shoved his fists into his soggy pockets.

  That was when she realized his hands were shaking. “You’re serious? You were really worried?”

  He scowled. “I’d worry about anyone dumb enough to swim in the ocean at night. I used to be with the Beach Patrol, you know.”

  No, she didn’t know, but somehow, she wasn’t surprised. He was exactly the lifeguard type. “In Margate?”

  “Atlantic City. For a couple years when I was in high school.” He stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go in and get dried off.”

  She took it and they started walking to
ward the street. “How long ago was that? I mean, how old are you? I don’t even know.”

  He glanced at her. “ Thirty-five. You’re what, about twenty-nine?”

  “Thirty.”

  “You look younger.”

  She slipped her arm around his waist. “Thanks. And thanks for what you did on the beach.”

  “What? Chewing you out?”

  “Worrying about me.” She paused. “For being my knight in shining armor.”

  He plucked at his wet clothes. “More like knight in soggy shirt.”

  “Close enough.” She leaned into him, and his arm tightened around her. They came to a halt in the darkness behind the dunes. Silence stretched between them, louder than the pounding surf. Just a few steps away, a streetlight cast a soft glow on the sand, but here, in the shadows, it was so dark she couldn’t see the expression in his eyes.

  But she knew what he wanted.

  She touched his face. “Kiss me, Nick.”

  He didn’t need coaxing. He gathered her in his arms, pulling her into the heat of his body. His mouth found hers. They were both soaked, but she hardly cared. His lips were delicious. Her hands skimmed his shoulders, his arms, his hips. He was warm and solid. He wanted her, and she wanted him, too, and that felt good. It felt right.

  Her hands wandered to the button on his shorts. She worked it free and tugged the zipper down. He deepened their kiss, his hot tongue stroking into her mouth. Her fingers slipped through the fly on his boxers and closed on his erection. He inhaled sharply. She stroked the velvet length of him, once, twice.

  He caught her hand and tugged it away. “Your place,” he said, nipping a trail down her neck.

  Instead of answering, she pressed her hips against him.

  He groaned. “Baby, you’re killing me. I want you so bad.”

  “Then have me.” She tugged him farther into the shadows. “Right here.”

  He laughed a little, as though she were joking.

  She licked a line down his salty neck and nibbled his shoulder. “I mean it. Let’s do it here. I’ve always wanted to make love on a beach.”

  He shifted. “You’re nuts.”

  She laughed. “I know.” She kissed her way down his body. When she got to his navel, she dropped to her knees.