His voice trailed off as a barrage of memories assaulted him… of himself, after his mother's death, angry at the world and the insidious cancer that had taken her so cruelly and quickly, leaving a yawning hole in his heart where her love and laughter and smiles had always dwelt.
And of Dad, so heartbroken that Josh feared he'd lose him, too. The man didn't eat, didn't sleep. Six months after his mother died, he woke up in the middle of the night and found Dad sitting in Mom's favorite easy chair. Tears streamed silently down Bill Maynard's face as he clutched his dead wife's favorite flannel shirt to his chest. It was threadbare at the elbows and faded from hundreds of washings. It used to be Dad's shirt, but he'd loaned it to her on their first date to a high school football game, and the shirt, along with Dad, had been hers from that day forward.
He'd looked at his father, his tears falling onto that soft cotton, and all the grief he'd stored inside came pouring out like a burst dam. They'd spent the rest of the night talking. About her. About the million things they loved about her. As dawn broke, they agreed that living in their small house, where she permeated every corner of every room, was too painful. She'd made the cozy space into a place filled with love, but it wasn't home without her. Better to keep it a happy home and let another family enjoy it. They sold it to a young couple with a baby on the way, then moved out to the Dry Creek, their memories of Maggie Maynard stored in boxes and embedded in their hearts. It had taken them a while to find their footing again, but they'd eventually succeeded.
His thoughts returned to the present, and he became aware of the silence. Damn, how long had he been lost in the past? He'd certainly dropped the conversational ball. Lexie probably thought he was an idiot. Opening his eyes, he scanned around him.
He was alone. Floating in the middle of the pool, bobbing on the surface like a cork.
From the corner of his eye he saw Lexie, leaning against the edge, grinning and giving him a thumbs-up.
He only took in half a swallow of chlorinated water while ungracefully setting his feet back on the bottom. Standing, with the water lapping at his chest, he grinned back at her. "Looks like I'm gettin' the hang of it."
"Indeed you are," she agreed. "Before you know it, you'll be ready for the Olympic floating team. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks. But I was flappin' around like a broken windmill til you got me talking about home." No need to tell her that his flappin' was all her fault.
She smiled. "I've found that directing a student's thoughts away from the water, toward something comfortable and familiar, often does the trick."
"Hope I didn't gab your ears off."
She tugged on her lobes. "Nope. Still attached." Her gaze shifted briefly to her sports watch. "I'm afraid our time's up for tonight."
His attention riveted on the trails of water wandering down her arm, and all thoughts of swimming instantly evaporated from his mind. He walked slowly toward her, enjoying the way her eyes widened at his approach, especially enjoying the way her tongue peeked out to moisten her full lips. He stopped when only two feet separated them.
"I'm disappointed our lesson is over. As I recall, you're next going to teach me some… basic strokes."
Their gazes fused, and his heart performed a slow roll. The way she was looking at him… not with the blatant invitation he often read in women's eyes, but with a combination of unmistakable interest mixed with a hint of uncertainty…
Whew. If she could heat his blood with a mere innocent look, what the hell would happen if he touched her? Gave in to his gnawing craving and kissed her?
He didn't know, but by damn, he was determined to find out.
Right now.
Chapter 4
Lexie stood frozen in place, heart pounding, the rough concrete of the pool apron abrading her shoulders, her mind a blank except for the mantra pumping through it. He's going to kiss me. He's going to kiss me.
She'd thought about little else during their lesson. She'd watched him as he'd floated, his eyes closed, staring at his sexy mouth form words about his home. Imagining that sexy mouth on hers.
Bracing his hands against the edge on either side of her, he bracketed her between his strong arms. His gaze slid from her eyes down to her mouth, and he leaned slowly forward. A brushfire of heat sizzled through her.
His lips brushed softly over hers, once, twice, with a teasing gentleness that immediately made her want more. Parting her lips, she touched her tongue to his bottom lip. And in a heartbeat the kiss changed from gentle to Oh. My. God.
With a low groan, he stepped closer. His arms came around her, his mouth covered hers. She was completely surrounded by him. By the delicious feel of his body pressing against hers. The warmth emanating from his wet skin. His large hands combing through her hair then skimming slowly down her back. The exquisite sensation of his tongue exploring her mouth.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she indulged herself in the onslaught of sensations assaulting her. Everything faded except the need to feel more of him. Taste more him. Touch more of him. She ran her palms up his back, reveling in the contrast of textures of smooth, firm skin over hard muscle. Desire, hot and insistent and for so long forgotten, gushed through her, turning her insides to syrup. His hands slipped down to the small of her back and puller her closer. His erection pressed against her belly, inspiring a dizzying myriad of sensual images of him, and her, together.
A shriek of feminine laughter broke through the fog of arousal engulfing her. Clearly Josh heard it, too, because he lifted his head. A long mental noooooo of protest echoed in Lexie's lust-frazzled brain at the abrupt end to their kiss, and she forced her eyes open. Josh stared at her with an expression that seemed to simultaneously say "I want more" and "What the hell just happened?" The perfect mirror of her own thoughts.
Another burst of giggles sounded and Lexie turned toward the noise. A young couple emerged from the pathway leading from the beach. Arms entwined, laughing, they skirted the perimeter of the pool, so wrapped up in each other they never even noticed Lexie and Josh.
Pulling in a much-needed deep breath, Lexie returned her attention to Josh and found him still studying her with enough simmering heat to melt a polar ice cap, heat made all the more intense by the fact that their bodies still touched from chest to knee.
The need to say something, to break the tension-fraught silence, pushed at her, but unfortunately the only words that came immediately to mind were "Wanna get naked, cowboy?" Since that seemed somewhat lacking in finesse, she remained silent.
Finally he spoke. "That was some kiss."
She swallowed to locate her voice. "Can't argue with you on that."
The dimple in his cheek flashed. "Now that's a trait I really like in a woman."
"Being a good kisser?"
"Well, yeah, but I meant not arguing with me. And besides, you're not a good kisser."
"Oh?" She deliberately shifted her gaze down to where his erection still pressed against her, then looked back up at him with raised brows. "This…" she drawled, giving him a gentle nudge with her pelvis, "tells me differently."
"It sure does. It means you're an incredible kisser."
His words, delivered in that aroused-husky voice, combined with the desire so obvious in his eyes, was like a balm to her bruised feminine ego. His gaze slid down to her mouth, making it clear he intended to kiss her again. Her heart stuttered at the thought, but common sense prevailed and she laid her hands on his chest.
"Not a good idea, Josh."
He stilled, his gaze questioning. "Because…?"
"While there's no sense in pretending that that kiss wasn't mind-blowing, this isn't an appropriate place, especially for me." She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The resort sort of frowns on its employees engaging in passionate exchanges in the pool."
"That's understandable. Disappointing, but understandable."
Resuming her normal voice, she said, "You're paying me for swimming lessons. Let's keep it to just that while we're in the pool."
He nodded slowly. "All right. But what about once we're out of the pool?"
A quick war waged inside her-the part that wanted to remain in her safe cave versus the woman that wanted, needed, to break free. Break-free woman won, hands down. "Why don't we get dressed, then meet in the hotel bar? We can have a drink and some conversation and… see what happens."
His gaze remained steady on hers, and she could almost hear him reflecting her own thought. I think we both know what's going to happen.
"All right," he said.
"Great." He didn't move, and after a few seconds she said, "If you'll just back up, I'll-"
"I can't do that."
"Sure you can."
"No, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because you're standing on my foot."
She looked down and, sure enough, the underwater lights showed that she was indeed standing on his foot. Good grief, he even had good-looking feet. Good-looking, big feet. Darla's smirk rose in her mind's eye. You know what they say about men with big feet, Lexie.
Yup, she knew. And the impressive size of his erection pressing against her left no doubt that the saying was true in Josh's case. The mere thought fired up a sizzle of lust that all but crispy-fried her synapses. Definitely time to get out of the water before she did something in a public place that could lead to an arrest.
She slid her foot from his, then waded purposefully toward the steps. Exiting the warm water, she wrapped her towel around her body, feeling the need to put something between her and this unsettling man who had all but turned her into one big, pulsating hormone. Jeez, her reaction to him bordered on embarrassing. Surely she'd be able to remain more focused, be more able to think and to carry on a conversation, once they were both dressed and there was a table, a couple of beer mugs, and maybe an order of wings between them.
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