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His lips claimed hers like they were ripe for taking. Maybe they were. It had been a long time since a man’s mouth pressed against hers, longer still since a McDavid man held her in his arms.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Lucy responded just as she might have years earlier, sipping and tasting, indulging and savoring. In those few passing seconds, she realized. She never wanted to let this moment, or this man, go.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Rex crooned, licking the seam of her mouth and tantalizing her further with minty breath and a slow-moving tongue. That mouth was her undoing. She remembered the skilled tongue of an intuitive lover, a cowboy she’d missed more than she’d ever wanted to admit.
Rex wasn’t pitching a happy ending, but he sure made her stop and think about white picket fences, several kids, and a minivan while delivering a short-lived, but quite intense kiss.
His mouth skimmed across hers, and he teased her, lightly kissing her here or there, taking his own sweet time provoking her lust. And desire was certainly stirred there in one simple smooch.
Lucy’s knees knocked together. Her vision blurred. She was so out of it by the time he released her that she walked into the house feeling like a teenager who’d just played her very first round of spin the bottle. Judging by the satisfied look on Mrs. Carpenter’s face and Luke’s raised brow, they’d had an audience.
Rex kept a spring in his step as he paced the glossy turquoise-colored ceramic tile flooring. “Lucy brought you something, Mrs. Carpenter.”
After rushing through the kitchen, Mrs. Carpenter took the wine and large album and placed the items on a nearby counter. She gave Lucy a hearty hug. “Look at you, child!”
Luke cleared his throat and shot Rex a sideways glance. “Don’t. It’s not worth the fight.”
Lucy studied Rex and Luke, unsure of the meaning behind Luke’s warning.
Mrs. Carpenter took Lucy’s small hands in hers and shook them. “Let me look at you, pretty girl. Why, you haven’t changed a bit. You don’t age. Why, you look as young as you were when you ran away from this place.”
Rex grumbled something under his breath and took Lucy by the elbow, steering her toward the sunroom. Luke followed on their heels. “We’re glad you decided to join us,” Luke remarked, a grin tilting his lips.
“We should be honored,” Rex said. “According to sports commentators, we have one of the racing world’s most well-respected women in our presence. I’m surprised she had the time for us countryfolk.”
“Well, of course she would!” Mrs. Carpenter exclaimed. “Lucy has always known where she could find a home-cooked meal. Haven’t you, child?”
“That’s it,” Rex said, stopping short of reaching for the high-back chair pushed under a round tabletop. “Mrs. Carpenter, we’ve discussed this. Lucy is not a little girl anymore. If you want me to make my point clear, I’ll go retrieve the toys she played with the last time she stayed here. Then you’ll have a better idea of why I don’t look at Lucy as anything more than the woman she is.”
“Rex!” Lucy shouted, absolutely embarrassed by his confession. “Is nothing private in this house?”
“Not really,” Luke replied for his brother, shooting Rex a glare. “I told you to let it go.”
“She wouldn’t,” Rex grumbled, nodding toward Mrs. Carpenter as he pulled out Lucy’s chair and waited until she took a seat. “Maybe now, she will.”
“I don’t pay attention to you, Rex. Never have.” Mrs. Carpenter hurried around the small area ready to serve helpings of potatoes and other veggies, not to mention the best homemade dinner rolls Lucy had ever tasted. Lucy had dreamt of Mrs. Carpenter’s mouthwatering meals. “Honey, you’ll have to overlook these two. Why, they’ve been so excited about your homecoming that they’ve been watching the calendar, marking off the days.”
“Really?” Lucy asked, arching a brow and enjoying the way the McDavid housekeeper successfully embarrassed Rex and Luke.
Age had begun to make its mark on Mrs. Carpenter, and Lucy was saddened by the fact. The housekeeper’s small frame supported about one hundred and eighty solid pounds. She wasn’t necessarily fat, but she was certainly round and pudgy in places, particularly the girth. Once a brunette, Mrs. Carpenter sported numerous strands of platinum, but showing outward signs of the years mounting didn’t seem to bother her. She positively lit up the room with her big smile and sparkling hazel-blue eyes.
“God’s truth, Lucy. They’ve missed you,” Mrs. Carpenter promised, sticking serving spoons in the various dishes covering the tabletop. “I was afraid if you didn’t get home soon, these two would take up racing for sport. Luke here even started shopping for stock cars. The man was determined to get yo
ur attention. I reckon he had every idea in the world about how he’d go about doin’ that.”
“Smart man,” Lucy said softly, lifting her plate so Mrs. Carpenter could pile on the food. “You really don’t have to wait on me, Mrs. Carpenter. I’m used to making myself at home here.”
“I’d say,” Rex grumbled.
“Hush now, sweetie,” Mrs. Carpenter said. “I enjoy waiting on you.”
“I wasn’t gonna buy a race car,” Luke said, settling in his chair and refusing to drop the subject.
Mrs. Carpenter hurried over to the corner rolltop desk, opened one of the side drawers, retrieved an envelope, and waved it high in the air. “Want me to show her these?”
Rex shook his head, filled his plate and stared at Lucy. “We could save her a lot of trouble by telling you what’s been on our minds. If we don’t, the old bitty will stick around for dinner and dessert.”
“I heard that, Rex McDavid,” Mrs. Carpenter chirped. “And Lucy, in this sealed package here I have season tickets to the Bristol race. What do you think about that?”
