“What are you doing in here – ” Collin appeared in the door with a pucker in the ridge of his brow. His gaze lighted on the squirming bulk beneath the covers, and he shook his head, the frown melting into a smile as he ambled into the room with his hands on his hips. “You know, Little Bit, if you keep putting on weight like this, your nickname won’t fit any more than your clothes.” He gave her lumpy thigh a squeeze, prompting a peal of laughter from beneath the covers. Collin grinned and leaned to give Faith a quick kiss before plopping down beside her on the bed. “My, but we’re ticklish tonight, aren’t we, though?” He explored the extra padding, tickling as he went while the blanket bubbled with wild movement and little-girl giggles.
Laney popped up out of the covers with a delighted grin. “Daddy, it’s us!”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Collin bellowed. He jerked the cover back, exposing three grinning little girls, all dressed in pink. “I thought your mother was just getting fat!”
Bella flung her arms around his neck. “Can I have a piggyback ride back to our room?”
“Only if you promise to stay there and go to sleep,” Collin said with a wink in Faith’s direction. He lifted Bella high in the air and positioned her on his back, then scooped both Laney and Abby up into his arms with a determined grunt. They squirmed and giggled against his chest, a picture of love in motion that brought a smile to Faith’s lips. Collin paused at the door to give her a half-lidded look obviously meant as a threat. “And you,” he warned, “head to the back porch
now
. . . or else.” He disappeared down the hall, along with the squeals and laughter.
Faith grinned and jumped up from the bed, humming to herself as she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. On the way to the back door, she eyed the basket of lemons on the counter and had a sudden urge to make lemonade. The perfect thing for a moonlight swing with her husband, she thought with a quick glance down the hall. She pulled out her cutting board and had one lemon half squeezed when Collin appeared in the door, his look as sour as the fruit in her hand. He rolled up his sleeves and walked to where she stood at the counter, then plucked the lemon from her hand and placed it on the cutting board.
“This is
not
the back porch, Little Bit,” he said with a swerve of his lips, then promptly steered her toward the door.
“But doesn’t a cold lemonade sound good?” she asked, licking her lips at the thought.
“Not as good as having you all to myself on the back porch the one night we aren’t exhausted.” Collin dropped onto their wooden porch swing and pulled her close, not missing the opportunity to feather the lobe of her ear with his mouth.
A familiar warmth surged as she leaned into his embrace, seduced by both her husband’s lips and the beauty of the summer night. She closed her eyes and snuggled close. “Oh, this is nice,” she whispered, trying to remember the last time they had taken a few moments to just sit and cuddle like this. Lately it seemed like all Collin did was work late at the shop while she tended to the girls, each too spent to allow more than a token kiss before collapsing into bed.
“It is,” he whispered. The warmth of his sigh caressed her cheek. “When did life get so complicated, Faith? It seems like it’s been forever since I really held you in my arms . . .”
She stroked his cheek with the tips of her fingers, mesmerized by the firm line of his jaw, now bristled with dark stubble. “It’s been hard with your schedule lately, Collin, I know, and the girls really miss you. So it’s no surprise they’ve been finding excuses to sleep in our bed. But Laney’s cold is much better, so she shouldn’t be bothering us tonight, and Abby hasn’t had a nightmare since last week, so we should be safe there.” Her eyes softened as she glanced up to stare into his. “Nor am I likely to fall asleep on you, my love. That’s more your habit lately than mine.”
Collin released a heavy sigh and leaned back in the swing, his contrition apparent in the squeeze of her hand. “I know, but things should get better with the new hire starting next week.”
She sat up, excitement bubbling her tone. “So you finally hired someone? That’s wonderful! Who? The retired gentleman who had his own shop or the one with the accounting experience?”
Collin drew her back to his chest, his voice an octave lower – and quieter – as it rumbled against her ear. “Neither. Brady and I went with the last person to interview for the job.”
She felt the touch of his lips against her temple as his fingers idly toyed with the
V
collar of her blouse. Somewhere an owl hooted, merging with Collin’s soft moan as his mouth wandered to the lobe of her ear. He shifted her close, and the scent of musk teased her senses while his lips strayed to tease the edge of her mouth.
Wriggling from his grasp, she smiled. “Don’t keep me in suspense – who did you hire?”
His hand stilled on her waist while silence hung in the air, thick as the summer night.
“Collin?” She scooted back, searching his eyes in the moonlight. “Now you’ve got me curious. Which man did you hire?”
A knot dipped in his throat. “Neither. We hired a woman. A widow, actually.”
She frowned. “Does she have the experience you need?”
A weary sigh escaped his mouth as he rubbed the side of her arm. “Enough. She worked at my father’s shop years ago for a time and then at several small print shops, in bookkeeping.” “So you know her, then? Is she an old family friend?”
He hesitated. “Yes, but it’s been years since I’ve seen her. And actually, I – well, Brady and I – felt kind of sorry for her because she’s been through a lot in her life. Her husband died recently, leaving her with a sick boy and sparse savings, and she has no income whatsoever.” He released a weighty sigh and sagged back in the swing, fingers pinching his forehead. “She’s more than qualified, mind you, but she will require some training. I don’t suppose it was the smartest move we’ve ever made, but I – well, we – just wanted to help.”
Faith leaned to press a kiss to his cheek, the feel of his late-day beard prickly against her lips. “I think that’s sweet – helping a widow in need. You’re a good man, Collin McGuire.”
He didn’t smile. His gaze dropped to the long sailor tie of her middy blouse as he fondled it with his fingers. “Not always, but my heart’s in the right place.” He swallowed hard and looked up, stroking her cheek with solemn eyes. “I love you, Faith, more than anything in this world.”
She leaned back on the swing and smiled, drawing lazy circles on the smooth plain of his arm. “I believe I’d like to see how much,” she whispered.
With a wrenching groan, he pulled her close and clutched her tightly to his chest. He buried his head in the crook of her neck. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Little Bit, and I would be lost without you.”
She squeezed him back, a prickle of concern surfacing. “Me too, Collin. Are you . . . sure you’re all right?”
His chest quivered as a heavy sigh blew warm against her neck. “More than all right,” he said, his lips intent on exploring her throat. Her pulse was racing when his mouth finally found hers, teasing her with a gentle tug of his teeth. “Now,” he whispered, “where were we?”
Who wants lemonade?” Katie stood at the door of the back porch, pitcher in hand.
“Oh, bless you!” Her mother said while her sisters and Charity’s best friend Emma looked up from the picnic table her father had built for the grandchildren. Marcy backhanded a limp strand of hair from her moist forehead. “This heat is relentless,” she muttered, pushing aside sewing materials strewn across the table. “And we need a break from these costumes. Goodness, I don’t remember the Fourth of July parade being this much work before. But then I suppose with six grandchildren riding on a float, it’s bound to take some time to outfit them all.”
Charity jumped up and relieved Katie of the stack of tumblers tucked under her arm and started passing them out. “You’re a genius, Katie. I’m hot just watching the sweat roll off Mother and Lizzie.” She sat back down and plunked the last glass on the table with a look of longing at the children as they darted and squealed through the sprinkler. She absently ran a hand along the damp neckline of her polka-dot sundress, then measured the air with index finger and thumb. “I swear I’m this close to making a fool of myself with a romp through the sprinkler.”
Katie’s lips skewed into a lopsided smile. “But you’re
so
good at it, sis, so why stop now?” She gave Charity’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze as she poured her lemonade.
A soft giggle floated from Emma’s lips, lifting a faint mottled scar on one side of her mouth. “It does seem to be a talent of hers,” she said softly. She butted her shoulder against Charity’s in an affectionate tease, her gentle grin making her disfigured face seem almost beautiful.
Charity gave Emma a sideways glance, lips pursed in a playful scowl. “I don’t need degradation from you, Emma, I have sisters for that.” Her eyes narrowed. “And a son.”
Katie chuckled and plopped down on the bench, pouring the last of the lemonade into her own glass. “Sorry, sis, but as Emma says, you’re just so talented at making a fool of yourself, for which I’m forever grateful. In the past, it always helped keep Father’s focus off of me.”
Almond-shaped eyes narrowed over the rim of her glass as Charity took another drink. She swiped her mouth with her hand and lifted a perfectly manicured brow. “Well, I mustn’t be too good at it anymore because you and Steven seem to be the only ones incurring his wrath these days. Speaking of which,” she said in a suspicious drawl. “How’s the ‘punishment’ going?” She rested arms on the table and gave Katie a devilish grin. “Is Cluny McGee still making your life miserable, I hope?”
The summer heat chose that moment to converge in Katie’s cheeks, and a silent groan lodged in her throat.
Lizzie’s eyes lit up as she leaned in, as close to the table as she could get with a neat, little mound beneath her lavender sleeveless shift. “Ooooh, yes, we want the full scoop on that good-looking boy. Brady sees him at the gym but never breathes a word about Luke’s life. So … are you warming up to him now?”
Faith chuckled and took a swig of lemonade, a definite twinkle in her green eyes. “Mmm . . . I’d say so, judging from that glaring shade of red on her face.” She lounged back on the bench and gave her sister a mischievous smile. “Come on, Katie Rose, spill. Is something other than the summer heat putting that warmth in your cheeks?”
“Faith McGuire!” Katie choked on her lemonade. “You’re as bad as Charity.”
“Hey,” Charity said in a hurt tone. “She’s not the saint you think she is, right, Mother?”
Marcy smiled and fanned her face with a sewing pattern. “Mercy me, I don’t think any of us are ready for canonization just yet.” Her smile shifted to the right in a rare display of sarcasm. “Especially your father.” She took a drink of lemonade and shot Katie a sympathetic smile. “I still think he was too harsh on you, with volunteer work
and
confinement for the summer.” With a roll of her eyes, she gave a soft grunt. “And he says
I’m
the one going through the change.”
Faith rubbed her mother’s back with the ball of her hand, causing Marcy to close her eyes and moan. “He is a man, Mother. You know how stubborn they can be.”
“No, tell me, please – I have no idea,” Charity said with a matching roll of eyes. “Mitch is king. He was supposed to take Henry fishing today, but instead he’s at work.” She peered at Marcy. “With your husband, I might add. Father’s the editor, for pity’s sake, Mother – the boss. Explain to me why he and his assistant editor have to work the weekend?”
Marcy rotated her neck as Faith massaged her back. “Your father claims Mr. Hennessey called a mandatory meeting.” She moaned softly. “Oh, lower, Faith – yes, right there . . .”
Charity sat up sharply, her gaze riveted to the backyard. “Henry! Put that sprinkler down right now or so help me, I’ll come out there and give you a wet, sloppy kiss.” She sighed and slumped back on the bench. “Men! God, please – give me the grace to deal with my son, my husband, and now, apparently, the owner of the
Boston Herald
.”
“A kiss? You threaten him with a kiss?” Lizzie gawked, a smile of disbelief on her face.
Charity’s lips shifted. “Yeah, the kiss of death, apparently. Seems my son would rather brave a spanking from his father than a kiss from his mother, the little dickens. Be grateful for girls, Faith. I have a feeling that boy is destined to make me old before my time.”
“What goes around comes around,” Faith said with a wiggle of brows.
An impish grin surfaced on Charity’s lips as she nodded at Katie. “Well then, we should be in for quite a show when this one starts having babies.”
Thoughts of Luke and babies suddenly collided in Katie’s brain, and she choked on her lemonade again, certain that the color in her cheeks had reached heatstroke proportions. “Ooooo . . . it’s not often we see you embarrassed, Katie,” Charity said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. She plopped her arms on the table and leaned in with a wicked smile. “Can’t be babies that has you all heated up . . . unless, uh, it’s tied to thoughts of Luke McGee?”
Katie shot up from the table, almost tumbling her drink. “More lemonade, anyone?”
Charity clamped a firm hand to her arm and pulled her back down. “Oh, no you don’t, kiddo. I may have a talent for making a fool of myself, but I’ve also been blessed with a sixth sense when it comes to romance. There’s something brewing in that brain of yours regarding Luke McGee, and I for one want to know what it is.”
“Oh, do you like him?” Lizzie breathed, ever the advocate for romance.
With a loud groan, Katie pressed her palms to her face, feeling the heat of her skin through her fingers. “No, I don’t like him!”
“Then why are you seven shades of red?” Charity asked, more than a little smug.
“Because he still makes me miserable,” Katie said in an acidic tone.
“Is he still obnoxious to you?” Faith asked. There was a hint of concern in her voice.
A flashback of him pressing her to the wall and kissing her soundly popped in Katie’s mind, and the heat of the thought invaded more than her cheeks. “No! Yes! Oh, I don’t know.”