Читать книгу One Summer Night - Emily Bold - Страница 8

The Party

The sun was already low, and veils of clouds formed a brilliant purple in the sky. The surface of Lake Champlain danced, reflecting the colors, and the ducks near the shore looked as if they were dipping their heads into liquid gold.

There was a light breeze blowing across the lake and making the burning torches that reached all the way up to the spacious porch in front of the house flicker. Lauren shivered and rubbed her arms. The thin satin of her sapphire-green shirt did not keep her warm, and she was glad that she had chosen to wear a pair of jeans instead of a short skirt. It was late September already, but the summery breeze that they’d had these last few days could easily make you forget that fact.

‘Go get yourself a jacket,’ Lauren’s mother Celeste suggested, wiping one of the garden chairs clean with a wet cloth.

‘It’s all right, Mom. Once the party’s started I’m sure I’ll warm up.’ Lauren hadn’t dressed like this just for fun – she wanted to impress Tim. After all, she’d plucked up the courage to invite him. But despite all of her efforts to look pretty, next to Rachel she still felt like a wilting flower. Rachel was wearing a dark-red cat-suit with black knee-high boots, and looked absolutely stunning. She was, after all, trying to attract a fancy dentist!

Lauren’s dad Peter stepped outside through the big folding doors and handed Lauren and Rachel a martini each.

‘Here’s to you, girls! May all your wishes come true!’ He raised his glass and pilfered the olive from his daughter’s drink.

Lauren smirked, because she never liked the olives.

‘Thanks, Dad. But if all our wishes are coming true this year, then what the heck are we going to do with the rest of our boring lives?’

‘You’ll see – I’m sure you can come up with a few more wishes for the next year. Once you get to my ripe old age . . . you’ll have so many wishes piled up that you know for a fact you won’t have time for them all. So, girls, start early if you want your dreams to come true.’

Rachel nodded.

‘Wise words, Peter. And from the corner of my eye I can see the man who might just give me sweet dreams in the future.’ She raised her hand and walked toward Mason, who was approaching from the gravel path leading around the house.

‘And what about you, honey? What will make you happy this year?’ Peter asked, putting his arm around her shoulders. Lauren leaned her head against her father’s strong chest like she used to, and hugged him back. Peter didn’t look fifty, even if he had piled on a few pounds thanks to his many years of working in an office. His gray hair still showed a few coppery strands, and his laugh was as fresh and bright as always. Only the tiny wrinkles around his eyes had become deeper over the past few years, but that only made him all the more likeable. His carrot-colored hair, his struggles with his weight, plus a love for all things sweet was something Lauren had inherited from him, while her delicate features came from her mom.

Lauren wondered how her dad would react if she started seeing one of his lawyers. Trying to get a feel for his stance, she asked: ‘Do you know Tim Parker? He’s . . .’

‘A brilliant lawyer. I keep asking myself if he isn’t wasting his talent up here in Vermont. I think he’d be a suitable candidate for the New York office. On the other hand, I would bypass several of his older and more experienced colleagues if I were to transfer him. Which I don’t really want to do. Why do you ask? Do you know him?’

Lauren emptied her martini glass and strolled with her dad through the yard and down to the water. She didn’t like the idea of Tim getting transferred to New York. Not now that she was falling for him.

‘I invited him here tonight. He seems nice.’

Peter looked at her for a while, as if trying to read her mind. He was probably thinking about how best to protect her, but after a brief pause he nodded.

‘If you say so, honey, I’m sure you’re right.’ He buried his hands deep in the pockets of his suit pants. Only the argyle sweater vest he was wearing over his shirt hinted at the fact that it was the weekend. The rest of his outfit tonight would be perfectly suitable for a court hearing.

‘You’ve always known what was best for you.’

They strolled alongside the banks of the lake. The first leaves were already dipped in fall colors, glowing brilliantly in the warm evening light, and Lauren could not imagine a more beautiful place than this, her home. Her family’s estate included not only the main house, which they all lived in, but also a smaller lake house, which she always hoped to one day decorate and make her own. Now that she was letting her eyes wander over the whitewashed, wood panelled outer walls and the large latticed windows, she could easily imagine moving in right away. But first she would need to finish art school and figure out how she was going to make a living after college. Whatever she ended up doing, she hoped it wouldn’t tear her away from her family.

‘We should go back, your guests are arriving. And I’m going to take your mom out to dinner, otherwise she’ll be here all night cleaning up after you.’

‘She shouldn’t worry. It’s only a little party.’

‘You know how she is.’

Yes, Lauren did know what her mother was like. Celeste Latham enjoyed her job as a homemaker and mother, and she liked things spotlessly clean. Ever since Lauren’s older brother by three years, Benjamin, had left home to pursue a career in professional baseball, Celeste didn’t need to wash his sports clothes anymore and the casual observer might think that Celeste was a little bored without that to occupy her time.

With a last glance back to the little house, Lauren followed her dad back to the porch. Rachel had already poured the champagne, and welcomed her brother Chris along with his latest conquest Blake, plus a co-worker from the physical therapy center. Mostly, though, she was busying herself with giving her attractive dentist long, languishing looks.

Lauren was happy that Rachel’s brave physicality was paying off. A worried glance at her watch showed her that her own date Tim was now an hour late – and she wondered if he was going to show up at all. Why would she ever have assumed he would? She was not as sexy as blonde bombshell Caroline.

‘Hey, Lorelei!’ Chris chirped, giving Lauren a boisterous hug from behind. Nobody except Rachel’s older brother by two years called her that, but he could not be dissuaded from it. He could also not be discouraged from pressing wet, unwelcome kisses into the nape of her neck whenever he saw an opportunity. What a childish, tattooed baby!

‘Hey, Chris!’ Lauren wrenched free of his embrace and motioned toward his date, who was shooting her jealous glances. ‘Don’t forget that you didn’t come here alone!’ Lauren leaned closer to his ear so that his dark, shoulder-length hair touched her cleavage. ‘I think she wants to kill me, so keep an eye on her, would you?’

Chris gave his cheekiest grin and slammed his fist against the flat of his palm. ‘Don’t worry, Lorelei, anyone who wants to pick a fight with you will need to get past me first! I shall protect you. Always! But first I’m going to get my date a drink.’

Lauren laughed and nudged him in the side. She could see a brand-new tattoo peeking out from under his T-shirt. He must have dozens of those things all over his body by now.

‘I know, I know! You’re my hero. Which is why I’m going to get you that martini. And now go and have fun with . . . your biker chick whose name has already slipped my mind.’

Chris winked at her, and whispered, ‘Same thing happened to me yesterday morning – but, believe me, it was way more embarrassing for me!’

‘Why don’t you have it tattooed on yourself, just to be on the safe side?’ Lauren suggested cheerfully.

‘Then there wouldn’t be any room left for the important stuff,’ Chris joked, pulling his T-shirt down and to the side so that Lauren could admire his latest body art. It was a dragon, with its wings spanning Chris’s entire chest.

Lauren lashed out at him as he turned, chuckling, and strolled back over to Blake, the biker chick. Again she looked at her watch. Tim was now very late.

‘Idiot!’ she grumbled, pressing her lips together sullenly. Fine, his loss! She returned to the house to mix a martini for herself and Blake. She turned up the stereo and undid her ponytail. This was a party, dammit, and even if the guest of honor had decided to stand her up she would not let him spoil her fun.

With a drink in each hand she left the kitchen a little while later and froze.

There he was, standing in the patio doors.

He was wearing jeans, a simple white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hair was casually falling into his eyes. Nothing about him resembled the lawyer she’d met in the elevator, and yet immediately she felt very close to him.

Her joy was mixed with anger at him for being late, but when he stepped closer and let his eyes wander over her body like a soft caress, the anger dissipated.

‘Hi!’

Jesus, even the simplest things made her knees melt!

‘I thought you’d forgotten.’

‘Of course I didn’t forget. I’ve just been thinking about what gift I should get you for your birthday.’

Lauren wished she could brush the hair from her face, but she was still holding those two martini glasses. ‘You brought me a gift?’ she asked in surprise, because he wasn’t holding anything in his hands.

He grinned a mischievous grin and turned to the large windows. Nobody was paying them any attention. Audaciously, he hooked his fingers around the belt buckles of her jeans and pulled her with him into a shady corner. Coaxing her against the wall, he tilted his head. She could feel his breath brushing her collarbone, and felt his lips against her ear.

‘It’s a somewhat selfish gift,’ he whispered, hugging her round the waist. By sheer force of habit she pulled in her stomach and held her breath. Her heart was beating against her chest, and the tension between them seemed to rise with every breath that she took. Slowly, he raised her hand that was still holding the glass. Then he guided it towards his mouth and emptied the drink into his throat, all the while looking into her eyes. She knew he could see that she was aroused and she could see that he was as well. Her breath quickened as she expectantly leaned into him.

‘Happy birthday, Lauren,’ he whispered, and his lips wandered from her collarbone up to her neck until they finally found her lips. The taste of gin on her tongue was intoxicating as she returned his kiss. Boldly, she rose up onto her tiptoes and tilted back her neck to deepen their kiss. It was only now, standing this close to him, that she realized how tall he was. He could have easily rested his chin on the top of her head. He caressed her back and spine until she buckled into him.

‘Seriously, Lorelei!’ Chris called out in fake outrage, and casually strolled past them in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Offering dessert to only one of your guests . . . That’s a bit rude, is it not?’

Lauren flinched, and Tim took a step aside, grinning. Ever the gentleman, he smoothed down her T-shirt and laughed when she nudged him in the side with her elbow.

‘You’re the dessert? What kind of party is this?’ he asked, obviously enjoying himself. Lauren glared at him.

‘Shut up, Chris! And what are you doing inside, anyway?’ Lauren asked, hurriedly following him into the kitchen.

‘Blake wants her drink,’ he explained, opening the icebox with the pre-chilled martini glasses inside.

‘Here, give her this one,’ Lauren offered him the glass she was still holding in her other hand, but Chris scrunched up his nose.

‘It’s been getting hot in here, and all the alcohol has probably evaporated by now. Besides, girls with a proper drink in them are . . . so much easier to conquer.’

He gave her a mischievous wink and poured a generous measure of gin into the mixer, along with some ice.

‘Idiot!’ Lauren muttered as Tim stepped behind her, placing a proprietary hand on her hip.

‘And that works? With girls from Vermont?’ he asked Chris, scrutinising his hostess’s face with a daring smirk.

‘Meh,’ Chris countered, laughing. He measured out the vermouth, and added it to the drink. Then he stirred the mix with a long spoon. ‘It always works, no matter where they’re from.’

‘You’re both crazy! Give me the vermouth, and get back to your biker chick!’ Lauren demanded, tearing the bottle from Chris’s hand, who in turn walked back to the refrigerator and grabbed two fresh bottles of beer. He handed one to Tim, who now leaned against the kitchen island at the center of the room.

‘You’ve invited a biker chick? Do I need to be worried?’ he asked, taking a sip from the bottle. Lauren’s eyes were stuck on Tim’s lips and she wanted nothing more than for Chris to buzz off so that she and Tim continue where they’d left off.

‘No, not you. She only wants to stab Lauren to death,’ Chris conceded matter-of-factly.

‘Seriously? Why?’

‘She didn’t like me kissing Lauren’s neck,’ Chris explained with an air of innocence and shrugged his shoulders. Lauren clenched her fists. He was doing this on purpose!

‘Seriously?’ Tim repeated his question, suddenly sounding very interested and, tilting his head, looking at Lauren. ‘I should have been on time after all.’

‘Don’t pay any attention to that idiot! He’s just kidding around!’ Infuriated, she pushed Chris out of the kitchen and turned back to Tim. Smoothing back her hair over her shoulders, she smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, he . . .’

‘It’s all right. I have friends, too, who . . . enjoy being idiots from time to time.’ A little unsure, Tim stared at the dark-haired man with the tattooed arms.

‘Good to know.’

‘But that thing about the kissing and the neck – I’m still interested in that.’

Lauren blushed.

‘Trust me, Tim, it’s a lot less spectacular than he made it sound.’

He nodded. They stood, facing one another in silence, and Lauren wished he’d come closer again, but he was keeping a polite distance.

‘We should . . .’ She motioned outside, pushing away from the kitchen island.

‘ . . . go and look after your guests,’ he completed her sentence. As she walked past him, she brushed against his arm, and a pleasant chill trickled through her body.

He placed a hand on her waist, light as a feather, and together they walked out into the yard.

The mood outside was lively. People were dancing under a pavilion decked with fairy lights, and many more birthday guests had arrived. Lauren said hello to an old classmate and his girlfriend in passing, and waved at one of Rachel’s friends who was standing chatting with Chris and Blake.

‘Would you like to dance?’ Tim asked, and his fingers on her paper-thin shirt set her skin on fire. The look in his eyes left no doubt as to how much he was enjoying being close to her.

Without hesitation she grabbed his warm, strong hand and as he closed his fingers around hers, pulled him with her under the glittering sea of fairy lights.

As if the Universe had been listening, the music switched to a Whitney Houston ballad. The sound of the music enveloped her as Tim led her through their first turn. She was not the world’s greatest dancer, and so she allowed Tim to take the lead. His hands were on his hips, and he smiled a tender smile.

‘Nice party,’ he whispered. ‘Thanks for inviting me.’ His eyes wandered from her face to her cleavage, and he pulled her a little closer still.

Every fibre of her being was electrified. She enjoyed his touch. He had an even nicer body than she’d imagined. At the diner he had told her that he liked to play hockey, and she had no idea what hockey training did to a body. Up until now, she hadn’t really noticed his muscular arms and broad chest, but now that she was letting her finger tips wander over the back of his neck and her body was brushing against his with every turn that they made, she felt the urge to find out what he looked like naked.

‘What if . . . what if I . . .’

Lauren bit her lip bashfully, and leaned with her forehead against his shoulder.

‘What if you what?’ He kissed her neck.

She looked into his blue eyes, and they seemed to pierce her heart like an arrow.

‘What if I were to ask you to . . . to stay around for a little while after the party?’

Tim grabbed her butt, and Lauren felt a pleasurable tremble in the pit of her stomach. This guy was hot, real hot, and goddammit, she wanted more. She wasn’t the easy kind, but never before had she felt so drawn to someone.

She could barely breathe for fear of what he might say.

‘Maybe I would stay . . . if you were to ask me,’ he answered provocatively.

Lauren’s stomach rolled. The star-lit sky had put on its best, sparkling gown for the two of them, and the chill of the night meant nothing when she was in Tim’s arms. His scent engulfed her and, as she was getting lost in his eyes, the world around them stopped.

‘Stay with me tonight,’ she breathed, standing up on tiptoes to kiss him. He returned her kiss, passionately.

‘I just hope your dad doesn’t bring you breakfast in bed,’ he whispered against her lips, then he lifted her up and pulled her body fully against his during the next turn.

Lauren closed her eyes and gave in to his kiss.

There was only one thought on her mind: when would the other guests finally leave?

* * *

Everyone around the bonfire listened intently to the stories of happy days past. It was almost as if they were re-living the events of that night, and everyone’s feelings were made so much more intense with the knowledge of what was to follow the next morning. The shared memory conjured up images as vibrant as life itself. They all had goose bumps, and not from the cold. The morning was drawing closer and closer and when it came it would mean it was time to say goodbye.

‘You turned my life upside down, Lauren. All I wanted was be close to you. And there isn’t going to be a single day in my life that I don’t want to be with you,’ Tim whispered, his voice breaking.

The pain in his blue eyes made it difficult for everyone else to keep their composure. It was hard, so hard, to keep their promise and not shed a single tear tonight.

‘Shh, don’t say that. You’re only making it harder for all of us,’ Lauren reminded him, placing a comforting hand against his cheek.

He swallowed hard and turned his eyes to the star-lit night sky above. An owl’s lonely cry sounded like his heart desperately screaming for a miracle, and the crackling of the burning logs sounded like his heart breaking. He could feel his happiness disappearing into the sky.

‘No matter what I say, I couldn’t possibly make it harder than it already is,’ he muttered, tormented with pain.