The Welcome Home Garden Club (22 page)

It was an unhappy thought. She moistened her lips. Whatever happened between them, he was still Danny’s dad. Even if they weren’t able to find their way back to each other, to recapture the easiness of their youth, they had a child together, and that would never change.

“It looks like the face painting is going to take a while,” Gideon said. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Lemonade would be lovely.”

“Lemonade it is.”

He went to the lemonade stand, made his purchase, and brought back two tall glasses of lemonade. “Want to sit?” He nodded at a vacant wrought-iron bench on the courthouse lawn.

“Sure.”

They sat, sipping lemonade, listening to the hum of the crowd who were shopping for crafts, playing games of chance, eating gooey decadent treats bought from street vendors. It was a perfect morning. She should feel blissfully happy, but life wasn’t that simple. The sun, shifting through the elm trees, warmed her cheeks. Nearby, a mockingbird trilled a medley of borrowed birdsongs.

Across the road lay the victory garden. It had been blocked off from the street with plywood boards to keep looky-loos from stomping around the tender plants. Caitlyn found her mind wandering to the care and feeding of plants.

The silence had stopped being awkward. She felt more than saw Gideon’s shoulders loosen. Heard his breathing go slower. He was relaxing. Good. Good.

“Caitlyn.” Terri Longoria called her name, snapping Caitlyn from her reverie.

“Yes?”

“We desperately need your help.”

“What’s up?”

“Missy Ivey signed up to man the kissing booth from eleven to twelve, but she shows up with a cold sore on her lip. Can you imagine that?”

“Well, you know Missy.”

“So can you stand in for her?”

“Um . . . Gideon and I were having an outing with Danny.” The last thing she wanted was to man a kissing booth. The only person she wanted to kiss was the man sitting beside her.

“It’s only for an hour. And we need someone young and attractive. It’s not like I can grab just anyone.”

“Giving away kisses just isn’t my thing.”

“You won’t be giving them away. It’s a dollar for cheek kisses, two dollars for on the lips, and no tongue allowed. You can specify cheek kisses only.” Terri pressed her palms together in a prayer of supplication. “Please, please. The money is going to charity. Disadvantaged kids.”

Why did she have to put it like that? “Terri . . .”

“Please.” Terri turned to Gideon. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“It’s not my place to say. Caitlyn has a mind of her own.”

Caitlyn sighed. She liked that he didn’t try to tell her what to do, but in this case, she really wished he’d told Terri that he
did
mind. She let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Terri hugged her around the neck. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Big help you were,” Caitlyn teased as she got up to follow Terri over to the kissing booth.

“Hey, you’re a big girl.”

She went behind the booth, and immediately two old guys from the local nursing home got in line. They paid their dollars and she presented them her cheek. They kissed her and went away bragging. She rolled her eyes, turned to the next person in line.

Gideon. With a hundred-dollar bill in his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I decided I wasn’t mature enough to handle watching other men kiss you, even if they were old codgers who were lucky to still have their teeth.”

“Where’s Danny?”

Gideon pointed at the temporary arcade set up on the other side of the square. “He’s found the games.”

“I don’t normally let him go off on his own.”

“He’s almost eight. Let the kid spread his wings a little, Mother Hen.”

“I’d just feel better if you were with him.”

“We can see him from here.”

“He could disappear in an instant.”

“This is Twilight. What could possibly happen? Everyone knows him and he knows everyone. He’s safe, Caitlyn.”

Rationally, she knew that, but she couldn’t turn off her worry gene.

Gideon rubbed his finger over the one-hundred-dollar bill. “I’m a paying customer,” he enticed.

“I don’t have change for a hundred.”

“I don’t want change.”

“You’re buying a hundred dollars’ worth of kisses?”

“I am and let’s get something straight. I’m not interested in those cheek kisses.”

“That’s all I’m offering.”

“No exceptions?”

“None,” she flirted. “It wouldn’t be fair to give you mouth kisses when that area is off limits to everyone else.”

“Okay,” he drawled, and lowered his eyelids. “What about other kinds of kisses?”

“What do you mean?”

“How much are butterfly kisses?”

“What are butterfly kisses?”

“You’ve never had butterfly kisses?”

“No.”

He shook his head. “You haven’t lived.”

“Because I’ve been in my cocoon.”

“So the butterfly hasn’t hatched yet.”

“That’s right.”

“How about I give you a preview of the life waiting for you outside the boundaries of your cocoon, Madam Butterfly.”

“By giving me a butterfly kiss?”

“That’s right.”

“How much should I charge?”

“Well,” he said, “it’s more intimate than a cheek kiss, but not as personal as a mouth kiss. How about a dollar fifty?”

“How about you explain what a butterfly kiss is first.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust most people.”

“Hazard of being born and raised a rich girl? You automatically assume people like you for your money and not who you are?”

That startled her. Was he right? Was that one explanation for her wariness?

“You’ll just have to take it on faith,” he said.

“Or give you a pass and kiss the next person in line. She looked over his shoulder to see another customer of the geriatric variety.

“Or you could just trust me.” He grinned.

“Okay fine, give me a butterfly kiss.” She leaned across the booth, hands gripping the counter.

Gideon leaned into her. He smelled so good. Like nutmeg and sandalwood soap. His face was so close, his lips almost touching hers.

Her breathing came hard and fast. He pressed his forehead against hers, stared straight into her eyes, and then he blinked. His eyelashes caressed her skin. He blinked rapidly. Each time his eyes brushed her skin, she felt a tingling rush of sensation spread over her entire forehead. Silly that she should find it incredibly erotic, but she did.

“That,” he said huskily, “was a butterfly kiss.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“My mom.”

It was amazingly intimate. He stopped blinking, but he was staring deep into her eyes, not moving, simply looking as if he stood there long enough, he could see the answer to every question he’d ever had.

“Okay,” she said, feeling breathless and out of control.

“Then,” he said, “there are Eskimo kisses. I know the term isn’t politically correct, but I don’t know what else they’re called.”

“Now, I do know what Eskimo kisses are.”

“How much do they cost?”

“Let’s say a dollar fifty like the butterfly kisses,” she negotiated.

“Sounds fair.” Slowly, gently, with their faces less than a breath apart, he rubbed his nose over hers.

Caitlyn rubbed back, thrilling to the sensation. It was downright fun, exploring all the ways to kiss.

“Let’s not forget angel kisses.”

“Where are you getting all this?”

“Told you, my mom. She was an affectionate woman.”

“So what’s an angel kiss?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Gideon . . .”

“Trust me.”

She let out a breath of air and closed her eyes. As soon as her visual sense was cut off, the rest of her senses became more acute. She heard the vendor in the next booth scooping ice, could smell cotton candy on the breeze, could feel the wood of the booth against her palms.

And feel the pressure of Gideon’s lips as he lightly kissed one eyelid and then the other. “Angel kisses,” he murmured.

She opened her eyes, found herself whispering, “What else?”

“Earlobe kisses.”

“That’ll be a dollar an earlobe.”

“Hey!” said the geezer behind Gideon. “Stop hogging the kissin’ girl.”

Gideon held up his hundred-dollar bill.

“Darn it,” the old man said, and wandered off.

“Now where were we?” Gideon asked.

“Earlobe kisses,” Caitlyn said, enjoying this more than she should be and turning her head to give him full access to her earlobe.

“Good thing you wore a ponytail.”

“Good thing.”

Then his hot mouth was at her earlobe. He took it between his teeth, sucked gently.

The sensation was like a lightning bolt straight to her solar plexus. Right there in the middle of the town square at noonday, surrounded by a throng of tourists, Caitlyn got turned on. Like a water faucet. Turned on in a way she hadn’t been turned on since the last time he’d sucked her earlobe.

This wasn’t wise. This wasn’t smart. Her sex was moist and hot. She pulled back, cleared her throat, and dropped her gaze. “That’s enough of the earlobe kisses.”

“But I only got one lobe,” he protested. “And I got a lot of money left.”

She presented her cheek. “You can have all the cheek kisses you want.”

“One for tradition.” He skimmed his lips over her cheek. “Then one with a twist.”

“What—”

But she was interrupted when he kissed her cheek a second time and whispered simultaneously, “I want to kiss you in a hundred different places.”

She pulled back, felt heat rise to her face. “Gideon!”

“I could have said something much naughtier.”

She took the one-hundred-dollar bill from his fingers. “Consider the rest a donation.”

“Only if you’ll help me out.”

“How’s that?”

“I’ve gotten roped into this VFW Memorial Day picnic and I need a date. Please don’t leave me hanging,” Gideon said.

“I’d need to find a babysitter.”

“You could ask the judge.”

“Honestly, this isn’t really my sort of thing. I’m more of a homebody.”

“It’s not my thing either. Go with me. It won’t be our thing together.”

“So why are you going?”

He raised his left arm. “Apparently I’m the war hero du jour who needs honoring.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t like it. I don’t consider myself a hero. I was just doing a job, but it seems to make everyone else happy.”

“You want to go?”

“I want to take you out.”

She met his gaze. “You can do that without dragging me off to the VFW picnic.”

“I’ve agreed to go to the event and I need a plus-one.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Scoot, you’re holding up the line.”

“I meant what I said about kissing you in a hundred different places, if that affects your decision any.” He held her gaze for a long moment, and then he turned and walked away, leaving Caitlyn feeling very hot and bothered.

Chapter Twenty

Traditional meaning of pink and white roses—I love you still and always will.

W
hen the crowd at the VFW hall greeted him with “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” the minute he walked in the door for the Memorial Day picnic, it was all Gideon could do to not turn tail and run.

The place smelled of beer, cigars, and barbecue sauce. A banner hung from the back wall of the paneled room read: “Gideon Garza Hometown Hero.” And a big sheet cake stretched out on the table laden with food was emblazoned with “We Love You Gideon.”

The attention made him feel uncomfortable. Not just because he didn’t consider himself a hero but because there were three dozen men in this room just as worthy of Memorial Day recognition as he was.

People came over to clap him on the back and shake his hand. Repeatedly, he was thanked for his service to his country. As if he’d had a choice. Judge Blackthorne and J. Foster had made sure the army had been his only option. He searched the room looking for Caitlyn, but saw she wasn’t here.

“Get yourself a plate and c’mon outside. We’ve got a nice picnic table under a pecan tree overlooking the lake.” Hondo waved at the buffet table and then at the door that led outside to the picnic area.

Feeling out of place without a date, but determined to make the best of it, he loaded up a plate with smoked brisket and coleslaw, potato salad and baked beans, yeast rolls and apple cobbler, and moved to follow Hondo outside.

He’d no sooner settled in than Hondo asked, “How are things with you and Caitlyn?”

“Um, fine.” He busied himself cutting the beef brisket into bite-sized pieces.

“Young man.” An elderly gentleman wearing a Pearl Harbor cap and pushing a walker with neon yellow tennis balls on the legs sidled up to their picnic table. His hair was the color of a snuff tin, his eyes a faded Old Glory blue. He spoke in a wavering East Texas accent. “My name’s Mort Gilchrest and I just had to come over and shake your hand and thank you for your service.”

Gideon clenched his jaw against the emotion. This old guy was the real hero. A Pearl Harbor survivor. Not many of those guys left. He reached out and shook Mort’s hand, then saluted him. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, sir, and thank
you
for your service.”

The old veteran flicked a glance at Gideon’s artificial hand. “I heard about what happened to you over there. I’m real sorry for your loss.”

Gideon shrugged. “All part of the deal.”

“Yeah,” Hondo echoed.

A short silence passed between the three of them. Servicemen who’d all lost a lot in the pursuit of freedom. Nonmilitary personnel could never understand. Which was the point of the VFW. To have someone to talk to who’d marched a mile in your boots. And since Gideon had been coming here, sharing war stories, he’d stopped feeling so alone, stopped having the nightmares.

“I just want you to know, we don’t take you for granted,” Mort said, then slowly moved away.

Hondo’s eyes lit up then and Gideon swiveled to see what he was looking at. Patsy Cross had come through the door carrying a plate in her hand. She spotted Hondo, and a huge smile spread across her face. She strolled over and Hondo scooted down to make room beside him on his side of the bench.

“I still can’t believe the victory garden judging is in two days. We still have so much to do. After the picnic, I’m heading back over there to get in the finishing touches.”

“Me too,” Hondo said.

“I think we’re going to win.” Patsy smiled.

“Now don’t go counting your chickens,” Hondo warned.

“Bite your tongue, Hondo Crouch, you have no romance in your soul.”

“That wasn’t what you said last night,” Hondo murmured, and gently tickled her.

“Shh, you old goat, you’ll embarrass Gideon.”

Gideon washed down his brisket with a swallow of lemonade and wished like hell Caitlyn hadn’t stood him up.

“Well, look who just walked up,” Hondo said.

“Caitlyn.” Patsy waved a hand. “Yoo-hoo. Over here.”

Gideon looked over his shoulder and his eyes hugged Caitlyn. Her blond hair was piled atop her head with a clip in a loose, feminine style that gave her an angelic appearance. Her cheeks were pink as if she’d been rushing around, and she wore a yellow print skirt and a simple white cotton V-neck blouse that made her look like one of those prognosticating flowers you pulled the petals off and recited with each dropped sliver, “She loves me, she loves me not.”

He felt like he did the first time he’d seen her in high school walking across the quad on that spring morning, books clutched to her chest, a slight smile on her face. She’d reached up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her delicate ear, her movements gentle and graceful. For the briefest of moments, she’d glanced up and met his gaze, giving him a glimpse of the most gorgeous blue eyes he’d ever seen and smiled oh so slightly.

And he’d fallen like a meteor crashing to earth. Even though it had taken him two more years to get around to asking her out.

Tulip
, he’d thought it then as he thought it now.
There’s sunshine in your smile.

“Yoo-hoo.” Patsy waved.

“Hi,” Caitlyn said, sounding as breathless as she looked. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

She sat down beside Gideon and he could feel her body heat. Close. So close. His gaze zeroed in on her full lips shiny with strawberry gloss. She smelled like strawberries too.

He had an urge to drum his fingers against the table, restlessly bob his knee up and down, for he felt a cosmic force rise up inside him, push hard against his heart. Hondo had said he would know when it was right, and one look in those eyes and he knew. It was right. He wasn’t afraid anymore.

“Danny’s spending the night at my father’s,” Caitlyn murmured.

“Got any plans for after the picnic?”

“Got any suggestions?”

He grinned. “Are you free?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Actually, I’m asking you in.”

“What do you have in mind?” She giggled.

“Come to my room at the Merry Cherub at seven
P.M.,
” he said, getting up from the table.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I have to get ready. This is going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

W
hen Caitlyn saw Gideon’s bedroom at the Merry Cherub, all the breath fled her lungs. She stood in the doorway, mouth agape, heart thumping, mind spinning, senses buzzing.

For strewn about the room were hundreds of pink and white rose petals. On the bed, on the floor, floating in the spa tub, everywhere she looked. Her eyes misted and she blinked back happy tears. She had seen a lot of flowers in her life, but no romantic gesture like this one. Here lay paradise. “Do you know what pink and white roses mean?”

“Hell yes,” he said. “I looked it up to make sure. I love you still and always will, Caitlyn.”

“Oh, Gideon.”

“I’m sorry I had a meltdown and freaked out on you. I’m sorry about the gun. I’m sorry I withdrew.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t run away. You stayed. You healed. We worked it out.”

“You healed me,” he whispered. “You and your victory garden and your carousel and our son. I was a shattered man when I came back here and I didn’t even know it.”

Simultaneously, they breathed in, inhaling the incredible fragrance of roses. The enticing scent of so many petals pushed a rush of heat through her nose and into her lungs, warming her blood, sending red-hot waves of desire radiating straight to the tingling spot between her legs.

Pink and white rose petals.
I love you still and always will.

She threw back her head and laughed. This, then, was the scent of love. Caitlyn caught her breath, turned. Saw Gideon watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, and she knew he felt it too. This yearning to be joined.

He gave her that old familiar cocky smile that she hadn’t seen in eight long years. The carefree smile of a young, untroubled man. What an intoxicating combo. That scent. This man.

His eyes danced with mischief and he came toward her, slowly stripping off his T-shirt, and one look at that fine chest had her knees rocking.

“C’mere,” he murmured in a husky, dusky voice, leveled her a soul-stirring stare, and held out his hand.

Dreamily, she moved toward him.

He took her hand and led her to the bed, settled her down on the rose petals, their perfume rising up around them. He lay beside her, kissed her tenderly as if she was a rare and precious thing.

They finished undressing each other. Shoes flying, pants sliding, skirt shimmying, until they were totally naked.

Gideon kissed her hard and long and hot. They lay on the soft, velvety rose petals. Under his deft fingers, her aching body bloomed as spectacular as the victory garden, and she shivered against his rousing touch.

Love swamped her. He was her man. He always had been, and she had to have him now or she would surely die. She pulled his bottom lip up between her teeth and he made a noise of pure masculine enjoyment.

He cupped her face with his palm, dipped his head, and kissed her with a soul-stealing, grade A, world-class kiss that warmed Caitlyn’s heart. The moment was spectacular. He was spectacular. It was her most cherished fantasy brought to life. Making love on a bed of flowers with Gideon, her one true love.

She wriggled into him, her breasts pressed flush against his muscled chest. He ran his palm up and down her arm. She tossed her head and he tracked restless kisses over her tender throat, nestling, nibbling, setting her on fire.

Gently, he rubbed his thumb over one of her nipples until it beaded up tight. “Ah,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss that pert peak.

“Uh-huh. A hazy hotness draped over her, thick with sexual urgency. She wanted him so badly she could only whimper.

His tongue played along her collarbone. She shuddered against him. Lightly, he stroked circles on the inside of her arm.

“My lover,” she gasped.

“Exactly.” He grinned.

The force of her feeling for him caused her to tremble and sweat. Her knees quivered. Her heart pounded. She felt his presence in every cell of her body.

He loved her with his mouth, tonguing her with amazing technique, a slow glide from the sensitive spot behind her knee, around to her kneecap, and up her inner thigh until she was rolling in ecstasy.

She floated, bodiless. She was total awareness, her entire being a giant throb of sexual energy.

He licked lazy circles of heat and she was spellbound. Finally, he edged to the spot where she wanted him to be, the sweet V between her legs. When his full wet lips locked on to her, she imagined she was a succulent summer peach, ripe for the taking.

His moist mouth teased, slowly licking her outer lips. He inhaled her and then caressed her with the sensuous sweep of his tongue. He suckled every fold, lapped at her ridges, and lifted up her bottom to deliver his meal.

She surfed his tongue, owned it. A steady strumming vibration began deep in her throat, emerged as a wild moan. She thrust herself against his mouth, gripped the sides of his head with her thighs.

Her skin was incredibly sensitive, her body tingling and tender. She tried to push him away. It was simply too much pleasure.

But he stayed put, pushing his tongue deep inside her. Then pulling out and moving to the region beyond. This new sensation drove her into a frenzy. Her muscles flexed. Blinding flashes of light. The rushing sound of ocean waves in her head. Uncontrollable spasms rattled her body.

Her world came undone.

Gideon’s magic fingers touched and tickled and tingled. Her butt, her inner thigh, her clit. He slid one finger deep inside her wetness, while his tongue continued to strum her feminine notch.

She fell like a shooting star dropping from the midnight sky.

Madly, frantically, they grappled with each other. Time spun, morphed, as elusive as space. She was spellbound, mesmerized, entranced. Embraced by a longing so sweet and severe she couldn’t breathe. In delicious anguish, she cried out her delight.

He rocked back on his heels, clasped her to his chest, and held her tight, his hand threaded through her hair, until their crazy hearts calmed.

After they rested, he made love to her again, sinking his flesh into hers. He was her lover and she wanted him desperately and he wanted her right back.

Their bodies joined and hotly fused on the bed of rose petals.
I love you still and always will.
Scent drenched the air—roses and sex—combining, fusing, part of an ancient dance as old as the sun and the moon and the stars.

The entire time he was buried inside her, he stared deep into her eyes, as if he was lost in her gaze and could not find his way out. Did not even want to find his way out.

Two became one.

A single being.

Clinging and trembling.

He filled her up, pushed deep inside her until he could go no further.

In and out, he moved in an even tempo that rocked her soul. He rode her and she rode him until they both came in a blazing, bright, blinding light.

S
ometime later, Gideon awoke and lay there listening to Caitlyn’s soft breathing. This was the beloved mother of his child. Her head was resting on his chest, and it felt so good he smiled into the darkness and thought about how much he loved her.

“Gideon?” she whispered into the darkened room.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you have any more condoms?”

“Yes.”

She rose on one elbow and looked at him. “Do you think that maybe we could go again?”

“There’s something I need to ask you first.”

“What’s that?”

Buck naked, he rolled out of bed. Went to his dresser, pulled out the ring box, knelt on the rose petals strewn across the floor, looked at her face in the moonlight, and said, “This has been a long time coming, Caitlyn Blackthorne Marsh, but will you marry me?”

“Gideon,” she whispered, her voice tremulous, her hand splayed to her chest. “Are you sure? Are you really ready?”

“I’ve never been more certain in my life. I want to marry you. Be with you. For now and always. I want to raise our son with you. Have more babies with you. Please, Caitlyn, without you I’m half a man.”