Читать книгу That Summer Place: Island Time / Old Things / Private Paradise - Сьюзен Виггс - Страница 18

She caught him from behind, which surprised the hell out of him. The toolbox slipped from his hand and she shoved him back up against a tree with both hands.

“Catherine?”

One palm was flat against his chest; the other slid up to grip the back of his head.

“What the hell are you doing?”

A second later she was kissing him the way he’d just kissed her. Hard and fast and wild.

He bent his knees, hooked his arms under her butt and picked her up. Her hands drove through his hair, gripped his head and tilted it, then she thrust her small tongue into his mouth the same way he had done to her.

He pushed away from the tree, turned and pinned her against it, holding her there with his body so his hands were free. He slid one hand across her shoulder, pushed her sweater aside and tried to pull down her bra strap.

He couldn’t get his finger under it. Damn. It was so tight you’d think it was made of iron.

He slid both hands to her waist and up under her sweater to cup her from beneath. She moaned against his mouth and their tongues switched places.

God, but she tasted so good. She felt so good. Her nipples grew hard from his fingers and her breasts were heavy and soft and felt just about as good as a woman could feel.

He slid his hands around and grabbed the back of her bra to unhook it.

“Harold!”

They both froze.

“Ohmygod! It’s Aly!” Catherine wiggled out from between him and the tree trunk, jerking at her clothes and taking big gulps of air. She looked up at him. “Bend down. Quick!”

He did and she used her fingers to comb back his hair.

“Harrr-old!”

“Hurry!” she whispered, still straightening her clothes which looked fine. “Get your toolbox!”

When Aly came down the path a few seconds later, they were both walking casually with no signs of the passion that had burned between them just moments before. No outward signs.

“Mom!” Aly ran toward her mother with tears in her eyes. “Harold got out. I can’t find him anywhere.”

Catherine opened her arms and hugged her daughter to her. “Hey, sweetie, we’ll find him. He won’t go far. It’s Harold. Remember? He never strays far from where we are.”

“But this is a new place and remember when we moved that time and how the vet said animals can get lost because the smells are new and they get confused and can’t find their way back.”

Catherine pulled Aly away from her shoulder and held her head in two hands. “We’ll find him. I promise you.”

Aly sobbed.

“Tell you what. I’ll cook some bacon. That ought to bring him running back home.”

“You will?” Aly looked a little brighter.

“Of course I will.” Catherine wiped the long strips of blond hair out of her daughter’s eyes and smiled. “We’ll look for Harold while Michael fixes the plumbing. Okay?”

Aly nodded, then cast a quick glance at him. “Hi, Mr. Packard.”

“The island’s small,” he reassured her. “Your cat won’t go far.”

“Thanks.” She sniffed again.

He walked past them and stopped. He wiped a tear from Aly’s chin with one finger. “Don’t worry there, Little Squirt. We’ll find your cat.”

Then before she could say anything about what he’d called her, he walked on down the pathway.

“Little Squirt?” he heard her whisper to her mother.

“I’ll explain later,” Catherine said.

He didn’t look back but from behind him he could hear the two of them following at a slower pace, beating the ferns and woods and calling out for the cat.

He kept walking. He might make over a half a million dollars a year in salary and another mil in stock options, but hell, he had a toilet to fix.

He walked out of the woods and into the clearing near the house. Dana was walking from the front door along the crooked porch.

She turned the corner to the side of the house and froze.

A second later she screamed so loud it sounded as if she had cracked the sky.

He ran toward her.

Harold was back, proudly sitting on the porch. He had a two foot long garter snake hanging from his mouth.