Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late) (12 page)

“How old are you Lydia? I can check the chart, but just tell me,” Regina ordered.

“Sixty-seven,” Lydia answered immediately, sighing over the number as she always did.

“Well you look as good as many women in their fifties. Tell your beau that you are not ready to do other things, but that you don’t mind kissing, so long as he controls himself,” Regina said. “When you’re older, it works better than it did in high school. Males are better trained. At sixty or so, he should be old enough to handle the pace you need to set.”

“So you don’t think this is—that I should just give up and send him away?” Lydia asked.

Regina laid Lydia’s client folder across her knees, clasped her hands on it, and leaned forward. “Absolutely not. You blush every time you mention him. Do not—I repeat—do not let your fears keep you from at least trying. He’s obviously worth the risk just for making you feel the way you do. Plus, you simply don’t strike me as a coward.”

“You’re very direct, Dr. Logan. I suppose that’s why Lauren likes you. She got her directness from her father, but you’re right. I’m not a coward,” Lydia said, standing. “May I come back?”

“Of course,” Regina said. “Tell Ann to set up the standard six weeks of visitations. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Thank you, Regina,” Lydia said, stiffly. “This must have helped. I no longer have the urge to vomit.”

Regina laughed as she walked Lydia to the door, said good-bye and saw her out. Then she promptly hit her forehead with the folder several times for getting involved in the love life of Lauren’s mother.

She shook her head as she gathered up teacups. It was turning out to be one hell of a day.

Chapter 9

“Mother, is that a new dress?” Lauren asked, narrowing her eyes at the knee-skimming, fitted white shirtdress topped with a colorful sequined vest. Sequins? Yes, Lauren thought, her mother was wearing shiny little circles on her clothes. “It’s very flattering—makes you look even younger.”

“Thank you, dear,” Lydia said absently, looking at the door again, just as she had been every few minutes since the open house started.

“Looking for someone?” Lauren asked, moving her gaze to the door as well.

“No, of course not—well, I am wondering where Jim and JD snuck off to,” Lydia said, trying to cover being caught. She just wasn’t ready yet to tell Lauren that she may have gotten accidentally involved with someone.

Lauren laughed. “Oh, I’m sure they’re not getting into too much trouble. Jim keeps a tight rein on him. JD doesn’t argue with his daddy much.”

Lydia laughed. Jim was a softy with the boy in most ways, but she knew he wouldn’t let his son get hurt. As if conjured up by the conversation, Jim came through the Common House door with a laughing, squirming JD slung over one shoulder.

“Hep, hep. Ganma,” he squealed.

“We rode on some guy’s golf cart and I had to pry JD away from it so the man could park,” Jim stated, passing his son to his very dressed up grandmother when she held up her arms for him. “Are you sure, Lydia? You look too nice to be wrestling the monster.”

Lydia snorted at Jim’s praise but hoped everyone thought the same thing. “It’s just a dress,” she said sharply to stop herself from thinking about the other male who might notice. “Pass me my grandchild.”

When he was completely in her arms, JD hugged her fiercely, planting a wet, toddler kiss on her cheek. Lydia sighed with the purest happiness she’d ever known.

“
Ub U
,” he said, laying his head momentarily on her shoulder.

“I love you too,” Lydia answered sincerely, hugging his warm body to her, and kissing his soft cheek. “I really needed that kiss today, boy-o.”

She was so lucky, so very, very lucky in Lauren’s child. Closing her eyes, Lydia held her grandson contentedly.

Lauren sought her husband’s gaze over her mother’s bowed head. His raised eyebrow indicated she wasn’t the only one surprised by Lydia’s statement about needing a kiss. Lydia was simply not a gushing type of grandmother—normally. It had her watching the door to see if there was some reason her mother was wearing a new dress and waxing sentimental.

In a short while, an older man with a cane walked in, accompanied by a much younger man who looked like he should have been featured in a male bodybuilder magazine. And wow—what a body he had, Lauren mused, momentarily stunned by his masculine beauty. Her gaze went guiltily back to her husband, who was giving her a chastising look.

“It’s like appreciating fine art,” Lauren said contritely.

“Art, my ass. Keep your eyes in your head woman,” Jim ordered, forgetting where they were. “Sorry, Lydia.” Lauren’s giggle was as promising as always. She loved to find his buttons and push them whenever she could.

“Awww…DaDa. No. No.” JD sang out, raising his head from his comfortable spot.

Surprising Lauren and Jim, as well as herself, Lydia opened her eyes, looked across the room, and burst out laughing.

“The calendar model is Harrison Walter Graham II. Goes by Walter. Quite the eyeful isn’t he? I heard him proposing to Jane Fox,” she reported.

Lauren didn’t know what shocked her more, her mother teasing over a guy or the fact that Lydia McCarthy was gossiping in a fun way instead of a mean one.

“He looks really young. Didn’t you say Jane Fox is almost my age?” Lauren asked.

“Well I don’t know how it turned out. Morrison dragged me out of the office before I heard Jane’s final answer,” Lydia said.

“Morrison—as in Morrison Fox—Jane’s father? Wasn’t he the ‘strange man’ who waved in the restaurant?” Lauren asked, trying not to grin. “Are you and Mr. Fox friends now?”

Lydia snorted again at all of Lauren’s emphasis. “I suppose. It’s hard to tell with that man. You can’t have a serious conversation with him. He either makes a fool of himself or starts quoting poetry for no reason. I don’t know how he was ever so successful in business.”

Lauren’s eyebrows shot up. This time it was Jim who laughed.

“Well he sounds very interesting, Mother. So are you—
dating
?” Laure asked, carefully pronouncing the word.

“
Dating?
Oh God no,” Lydia insisted, fighting a now squirming JD. “We’ve been working on the Common House renovation project together. That’s all.”

But just as the words left her mouth, Morrison appeared in the Common House doorway, dressed in a crisp, long sleeved shirt the color of ripe plums, which he had paired with expensive navy slacks, and more expensive shoes. His silver hair gleamed in the soft lighting, highlighted by the colorful shirt he wore.

Unaware of what she was doing, Lydia absently let JD slide down her to the floor while she stared and tried to analysis how she felt about his appearance.

Across the room, Morrison’s gaze sought hers out immediately. Something in the way he stared at her so intensely, smiling at her gaze meeting his, had Lydia’s face immediately growing warm, but she couldn’t stop the reaction.

Then like a bucket of ice water being poured over her head, JD’s squealing as he escaped broke into her wayward thoughts.

“Oh no,” Lydia called out, watching JD run full out towards Harrison, eyeing him with a determined gleam. She suddenly envisioned JD yanking the cane away and Harrison breaking a hip as he fell. She took off after her grandson before his parents could react fast enough to do so.

“Walter,” Lydia yelled as loud as she could. “Stop him. Don’t let him take Harrison’s cane. JD’s sneaky.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll stop him,” Walter said obediently, stepping in front of his grandfather, and giving Ms. McCarthy the most reassuring smile he could.

Seeing his prize was going to elude him when the giant daddy man got into his way, JD swerved to the door and all the amazing things waiting for him outside. He thought of the ride he took and ran faster, excited at the idea of going again.

“James Davis Gallagher. Stop this instant!” Lydia demanded, her voice shrill and loud above the various conversations in the room.

A long purple arm scooped the squealing boy up and tossed him over a shoulder. Morrie walked forward, the complaining toddler alternately demanding to be let go and laughing about being caught.

“Lose something, Gorgeous?” Morrie asked, his eyes twinkling as Lydia skidded to a stop in front of him. “Nice outfit. Goes well with those great legs of yours. You looked cute running after him in heels too.”

She rolled her eyes. “Skip the nonsense, Morrison. Hand me back my grandson.”

“That’s okay, I’ve got him,” Morrie said, swinging his body to both calm and delight the boy. “I had nephews worse than this one. Where are his parents?”

When Lydia continued to just stare at him without answering, Morrie let his gaze search the room. The tall couple laughing behind their hands and whispering furiously looked like the most likely candidates, so he headed in their direction.

“Morrison—put JD down. I’ve got him,” Lydia insisted, trailing behind the man in question, trying not to look at the perfect fit of his pants encasing legs that were striding confidently across the room.

“Hep, Ganma. Hep,” JD pleaded.

“This is the consequence of indulging your wickedness, young man,” Lydia said to JD, shaking her finger at him.

“Dicked?” JD said, his face wrinkling with confusion.

Morrie laughed loudly at the toddler’s attempt to interpret. “Grandma, I believe you need to use smaller words with this young man.”

“Oh, shut up. Who asked you?” Lydia demanded fiercely, and then turned to be confronted by Jim and Lauren’s shocked gazes. “What? I retrieved the boy.”

“Mama,” JD said perfectly.

Lauren raised her eyebrow at her child, who was angelic once more when he was turned and presented to his parents. “Am I going to have to hold you down again?”

JD didn’t answer, just shook his head as he went into her arms. He laid his head on his mother’s shoulder, stuck a thumb in his mouth, and closed his eyes.

Jim smiled at his son’s fear of his mother’s disapproval, grateful as always for it.

“Thank you for the rescue,” he said, holding out a hand to the man brave enough to ignore Lydia’s glare. “Jim Gallagher. This is my wife, Lauren. And you’ve already met JD.”

“Hello, Jim—Morrie Fox,” Morrie said, shaking firmly, and then he turned his attention to the side. “Lauren, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Your mother talks about you all the time. Mostly good things.”

“That’s news to me,” Lauren said lightly, making him smile. “So are you. Mother hasn’t mentioned you at all.”

“I make her nervous,” Morrie said with a shrug of mock apology.

He laughed hard when a hand swatted him sharply on the arm. Lydia seemed to like to hit when she was irked at him. Morrie didn’t mind it because at least she was touching him instead of trying to avoid doing so. Still he didn’t want to disappoint her with missing the point.

“Ouch, woman—that hurt,” he said loudly.

“Must you always go on and on about everything? Can’t you just say a simple hello to people?” Lydia demanded.

Morrie turned to look down into Lydia’s face, seeing it wasn’t as far in her heels. Just a few scant inches between them. It gave him all kinds of ideas.

“I missed you too, Lydia. It’s been a very long week without seeing you again. Rachel went home today. I tried to get her to stay longer, but I remember what it was like to want time alone to sort it all out,” he said, holding Lydia’s gaze as it softened.

When her hand came up to stroke his arm in comfort this time, Morrie put his hand over hers. “Your visit got me through the worst of it. I’ve thought of you every day since. Thank you,” he said, leaning down to brush a kiss over her cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Lydia answered automatically.

“I can’t wait to kiss you again,” Morrie told her, whispering in her ear and laughing at Lydia sucking in air trying to get a breath. “Been thinking about that all week too.”

Lydia pulled away from the aura of Morrison’s cologne and him, deciding rashly that he was every bit as distracting to her as Jane claimed she was to him.

“So,” Lydia said brightly, too brightly, she thought, but was unable to change her tone, “what do you think about the final result.”

“I told you. I like the dress and heels. You look amazing. If you wore the new outfit to impress me, rest easy—it worked,” Morrison declared.

“I’m talking about the seating area, you infuriating man. Can you please stop trying to embarrass me in front of my family?” Lydia asked, trying not to sound like she wanted to cry—which she did—in anger.

Now Lauren was going to grill her later, and she was not looking forward to answering questions about Morrison Fox.

“Oh I’m not
trying
to embarrass you. I’m doing it and enjoying every minute of making you blush,” Morrie said. “It’s part of the winemaking process to squish the grapes.”

“I don’t know what that means, nor do I like the way it sounds,” Lydia said stiffly.

Morrie stepped really close to her, leaning in as she leaned away. “I’m looking forward to making you like a lot of things, but right now, I need to go find Jane. I heard there were several bids on this place. Jane tends to get excited and react too emotionally to offers.”