The July Guy Read online

  And then she got it. “I’m not thinking of any other man but you tonight. Believe me. You’re important to me, too.”

  He drew her close, burying his face in her hair. “I know.”

  His scent surrounded her. He swept his hands over her back, and the flames that weren’t burning in the fireplace were lit inside her. “Let’s show each other.”

  He brushed his lips over her mouth, and she opened to him. He dipped his tongue inside, teasing her. She didn’t want a dip, she wanted a plunge, but she held back, because if he was taking things slowly for her, she could do the same for him. Still, she couldn’t resist. She sucked on his tongue, tasting him. Claiming him.

  No. Drinking him in. There was no claiming going on.

  Noah moaned, and she swallowed the needy sound. She drove her fingers through his hair, tugging the short strands to bring him even closer. Her breasts pillowed against his hard chest, the hair there tickling her nipples and sending even more sensations buzzing through her.

  Before long, he pulled away enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Are you sure you’re not cold?”

  “No, I’m hot. You?”

  “You’ve heated me up, sweetheart. But you’re right about the knees.” Without warning, he gathered her close and brought her down onto the rug with him. “Much better.”

  “Mmm. I love feeling you on top of me.”

  His large hands framed her face. “It’s not too much? Too heavy?”

  Anita turned her head to kiss his palm. “Never.” She spread her legs, and he settled between her thighs. His erection fit perfectly into the cleft between her sensitive labia, stimulating her throbbing clit. She wrapped her legs around him and rocked her hips.

  Noah chuckled softly. She dropped her legs as he kissed, licked, sucked on her nipples and then abandoned them to nibble down her ribs.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders and moaned his name.

  “I know. I know,” he murmured as he kissed down her body, leaving wet spots that cooled her skin as he continued down. “Let me love your body. Give it the attention it deserves.” He tickled her navel with his tongue.

  In the back of her mind, Anita knew she should rebel against the L word, but she couldn’t find it in her to complain. Most of the other July guys had claimed that they loved her, but she’d known it wasn’t true. With Noah…

  No. She’d promised him she wouldn’t think of the other men she’d been with, and she wasn’t. Not in any way that mattered. But the thought that Noah used the word sincerely and not coated with charm, not spouting the word because he thought she wanted to hear it, sent shivers of a different kind through her body. She should be worried, should push him away.

  Instead, she arched up against him and yearned to hear it again.

  Noah shifted so that he knelt at her side and then leaned over to nuzzle her abdomen again. He continued to nibble down her body until he reached the apex of her thighs. She couldn’t help crying out when he dipped his tongue in to tickle her clit. He hummed with obvious pleasure as he stretched out beside her. She shivered as he rolled her onto her side and settled his mouth on the sensitive flesh between her legs. She opened to him and welcomed him there at the same time she grabbed his hips and took his erection in her mouth. His taste was heady and salty, and she took him deep, savoring him. He devoured her, too, in long, slow licks, and the mix of sensations threatened to overwhelm her.

  Anticipation was sweet, but once he niggled her clit with his tongue, that orgasm they’d been talking about rose up and washed over her. She let go of him and cried out her release.

  But it wasn’t enough. This sex had been going on for a couple of hours. There was still more to be anticipating. She grappled for Noah’s shoulders and climbed over him, onto him. Stretched over him for a deep, wet kiss. Anita grabbed the condom and rolled it on him. Then lowered herself onto his thick erection. He grabbed her hips and slammed up into her as if he knew this was what she needed. She had no doubt it was what he needed, too.

  Anticipation only got you so far.

  They rode each other wildly, the slowness, the softness forgotten. A second orgasm hit her moments before Noah climaxed in her arms. When he shouted her name, she closed her eyes and memorized the beautiful sound to take out during the coming year, when she was alone and remembering her July in Lakeside.

  After their breathing settled closer to normal, Noah dropped a quick kiss on her nose and then rolled her off him. Instead of rising to take care of the condom, he said, “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  He reached under the sofa and pulled out an ancient, beat-up baseball bat. “I think I found what Aggie used on the mantel.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Noah propped the baseball bat against the side of the mantel and then got rid of the condom. When he came back into the room, he reached out to Anita. She took his hand and got to her feet.

  “I wonder what kind of things made Aggie take out her frustrations on the mantel with a baseball bat,” he said.

  Anita shrugged. “The death of her husband, I suppose. Then I guess a daughter getting pregnant without being married was a big one. Apparently, to her that was a big sin. Unforgivable.”

  Noah put his arm around her and drew her down the hall toward the bedroom. “I’d say Aggie forgave, or she wouldn’t have left everything to you.”

  “Doesn’t mean she forgave my mom.” Anita pulled away from him and headed back to the living room. “I can’t go to bed yet. I’m too wound up.”

  He was sorry he’d brought it up. He’d been looking forward to some more skin-on-skin time with her and then a good night’s sleep. “Do you think Aggie would have kept Patty’s things in her bedroom all this time if she thought what your mother did was unforgivable?”

  “I don’t know.” Anita padded into the kitchen, gloriously naked. Of course, he followed. “I need to pack up the stuff in here before work starts inside.”

  Which would be at least another week. “Now?”

  “July will be over before you know it. It needs to get done.”

  Noah came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He could feel the tension there. “It doesn’t have to get done tonight.”

  The magnificent phoenix tattoo on her back drew his attention. He traced the fiery wings with a fingertip. “When did you get the tattoo?” he asked, hoping to distract her from whatever had her so worked up. “I assume the phoenix has significance?”

  Anita grabbed one of the totes stacked in the corner. Her movements were stiff, so unlike her usual fluidness. “I never knew the happy, lighthearted Patty your mom and dad described. Growing up with her as a mother was stifling.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” The platitude was woefully inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t imagine being raised like that.

  She started removing the small appliances from the countertop and placing them in the tote. “Talking to her coworkers, I know she was a caring, empathetic nurse, but when she got home after her shifts? She was a bitter woman, overprotective, overbearing.”

  Noah took out the coffeemaker she’d placed in the tote and put it back on the counter. They’d need that in the morning. He didn’t think she noticed.

  “Thinking about it since I’ve been here,” she went on, “since I found out how my mother used to be, the first big blow for her must have been when Aggie threw her out of the house. I don’t think my mom ever expected that. Then when my father left her? I think that was the last straw. Two big betrayals by people she loved? As I said, I was young and don’t remember much about life before my dad left.”

  “I can’t imagine what it was like for her,” Noah said softly, “but I know a lot of people have to deal with tragedy and disappointment, and it doesn’t turn them into bitter and angry people.”

  Anita lifted a shoulder. “Well, she kept track of my every move. I think she was afraid she was going to lose me, too, like she did her mother and her husband. Art wa
s my outlet, my escape, but even after I’d graduated high school, I wasn’t free. I wanted to study art, and she said she’d pay for college, but I had to live at home. Follow her curfew. She still kept control of my life. But I told myself I was going to use that college education she was paying for to get away from her.”

  She reached for the drawer with the flatware. He stopped her before she could dump all the knives, forks, and spoons into the tote. “Let’s wait on those.”

  Anita blinked, stared at the drawer in her hand. “Okay.” She handed the drawer to Noah.

  “When I got the trust fund from Tony, I was furious with him for about two minutes. How dare he try to buy me off with all that money? But then in a flash, I realized I was finally free. You were right when you said he gave me my independence. The first thing I did was buy a small condo so I could move out. I got a job teaching, and that paid my bills, so I started to take a trip every summer with money left in the trust fund.”

  “But you’ve never talked to your father about all of this? Got his side of the story?” As a father, Noah could remember all the mistakes he’d made as the twins were growing up. None of them had been as drastic as leaving the country, but if his daughters had never forgiven him for some of his stupid missteps, he’d probably have gone crazy.

  “What side?” Anita snapped. “He left. He never came back to see me. What’s there to talk about?”

  No doubt, there was another side to the story, but Noah decided to drop it for now. “So that’s when you got the tattoo?”

  She nodded. “I was able to spread my wings for the first time. I felt like a bird rising up from the ashes of the anger and bitterness that had been surrounding me for as long as I could remember. I painted the phoenix first. There’s a huge canvas above my bed. But it wasn’t enough to see it every day. I wanted to wear it. I wanted it on my skin. It was a part of me, the new part that allowed me to be what I wanted to be.

  He swept his hand over her back. Her skin was cool. Time to get her into bed. “It must have taken a long time. Must have hurt a lot.”

  “Sure, but there’s something exhilarating about getting through the pain and suffering, surviving everything.”

  “You did more than survive your childhood. You’ve thrived.” Except for the part where she refused to let herself fall in love. He put his arm around her and drew her out of the kitchen and onto the bed. “Do you still see your mom?”

  Noah pulled her onto his lap. He’d never seen her look so vulnerable. “I didn’t for a long time. For probably ten years, we rarely spoke. Then I realized I was becoming like her, and I didn’t want to. Remember Aggie’s note that said the women in our family are stubborn and don’t forgive? Well, she’s right.” Anita let out a bark of a laugh. “Maybe you were right, and Aggie regretted her decision. Maybe she even tried to apologize, but my mom wouldn’t forgive her. I know that’s possible, because Mom wouldn’t forgive me, either, for leaving her, for the harsh things I said to her when I left. She refused to let me in the house. She didn’t answer my calls. So I stopped trying.”

  “No one would blame you.”

  “I blame me. Because I didn’t see her again until a few years ago, when I got a call from the hospital where she worked. She was beginning to behave strangely, and they were concerned.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. She couldn’t be a nurse anymore. She couldn’t be trusted to be left alone. I tried in-home care for a while, but eventually, I found a wonderful memory care facility not far from where I live. When I get the money from selling this house, I won’t have to worry for a long time about keeping her there. She seems happy there. Happier than I ever remember seeing her. So that’s good. Even if she doesn’t remember me.”

  Noah wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. That must be awful.” So this was it, the reason she wanted to sell the house. And now that he knew she needed the money, he’d never try to convince her to keep it.

  She rubbed her arms briskly. “We never got along anyway.”

  “Still.” He drew her down onto the mattress with him, pulled the covers over them. He didn’t want to think about her selling the house. “Let’s change the subject. Have you had a chance to do much painting since you got here?”

  “When have I had the time?”

  “You have to make time. That’s one of the things you look forward to each July, isn’t it?” He rolled over on top of her. He’d keep her warm. “I’ll finish stripping the wallpaper tomorrow. You spend the day painting. I imagine it would be too hard to be outside here with all the work going on, but people sometimes set up easels in the park. You could do that.”

  “I have a studio upstairs. But I promised to help you with the wallpaper.”

  “Wait. You have a studio?”

  “The front room.” She pushed him up, and she slid out from under him. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He reached for his shorts, but she stopped him. “It’s only you and me. No one’s going to be out on the lake at midnight, waiting on the off chance to get a picture of you naked.”

  The thought of that was enough to make him pull on his shorts and hand her the robe. “It’s getting chilly. Humor me.”

  She rolled her eyes but took the robe and slid her arms in. Was it her stubbornness that compelled her to leave it unbelted? “Come on, salvage man.”

  He followed her up the stairs. The sway of her ass, hidden by the silky robe, made him wish he’d let her remain naked. The first thing he noticed was that the door was open to her mother’s bedroom. “Did you find what you were looking for in there?”

  Anita shrugged, but he doubted she was as indifferent as she appeared. “Found a few photographs. Not much else.” She opened the door across the hall and flipped on the light. “This is what I want to show you.”

  Soaring ceilings. Clean white walls. Gleaming hardwood floors. Huge windows that would let in a lot of light during the day. He peeked out and didn’t see the lights of any boats holding potential photographers from the Bradford camp waiting to take compromising pictures. He couldn’t wait for election day. He was getting paranoid.

  “Aggie had this made for you?”

  She shrugged again, then swept her arm around the room. “Look at this. Won’t it make an awesome master bedroom? Got to be a great selling point, right? There’s a half bath over there in the corner.”

  Her eyes had dimmed. Noah knew she wanted to keep the house. Ached to use this studio. Maybe if she didn’t travel so far every summer, maybe if she came here instead, she wouldn’t have to worry about money for her mother. Would he be satisfied with seeing her only in the summers? He didn’t think so. “Paint up here tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you avoiding the painting? Or avoiding the studio?”

  “No. Well…maybe this is a little too much like the trust fund.”

  “It feels to you like she was trying to buy your forgiveness?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Do you still feel that way?”

  “A little. But I’ve gotten to know her better this week.”

  “Are you ready to accept the studio for what she intended it to be?” He slid his arm around her waist. “If she wasn’t trying to buy your forgiveness, why do you think she had this studio built for you?”

  Anita’s eyes were bright. “Maybe it was her apology.”

  “And I think she was showing her love for you. Whether you forgave her or not, she still loved you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “So will you paint up here tomorrow?”

  “But the wallpaper. I’ll feel guilty leaving the work to you.”

  “It’s not your job to do the renovation, remember? It’s mine. You do what you came here to do. Paint.”

  She slid her arms around his waist. “Have I ever told you I like you, salvage man?”

  “I like you, too.” In fact, I think I love you. His chest was filled w
ith emotion. But he’d never say those words out loud. Not unless he was sure she wanted to hear them. Would she ever want to hear them? “Tell me you’ll paint tomorrow.”

  “All right, I’ll paint. But right now, let’s go back downstairs and do more of that other thing I like to do in July.”

  …

  For the next week, Anita painted during the day and spent time with Noah in the evening when she could. He did what he did for the salvage company and oversaw the renovation of the house. He’d also started campaigning door-to-door, talking face-to-face with as many of the residents of Lakeside as he could. Some nights, he fell into bed with her, too tired to do much more than kiss and hold her, but he made it back to her every night.

  The outside work on the house was nearing completion. The gingerbread had been repaired. The clapboard siding was a smooth, bright white, giving the old girl a much-needed facelift. The black shutters would go up soon. And the red window boxes. She couldn’t wait until the gorgeous porch was finished.

  Soon, the painters and carpenters would move inside, and the landscaping could begin out there. It was coming together faster than she’d imagined.

  She’d thought she would be painting the view from the window. The sun glistening on the lake. The docks skimming across the surface of the water. The colorful boats bobbing with the waves. Instead, she’d painted her grandparents on the old porch, sitting on a white wicker swing, a little pink bundle in a buggy beside them. The lake was there only as a backdrop.

  The scene came full-blown in her mind, just as quickly on the canvas. Photos in the albums she’d found in the bedroom had given her a feeling of the house back then. Of her grandparents back then. It wasn’t realism, no portrait of the ancestors she’d only seen in photographs. The soft blur of impressionism conveyed her emotions as she painted. She didn’t know these people, but she felt them.

  The creativity she craved swirled within her. She enjoyed coaxing it out of her students. Loved seeing them bloom under her teaching. But there was nothing that beat taking brush to canvas.