breathe, but leaving no breath of space separating them.
It wasn’t shock at kissing him that she was experiencing. It was a shock at realizing twelve years could pass and desire for this man could rush back so fully.
Even after loving Dwayne. This was different. She wanted to feel, to be held, to be desired. It was like capturing a stolen moment from her youth.
She parted her lips, hungry for the contact. His tongue danced with hers. She slid her hands around his back, wanting to lift his shirt and feel the contours of the muscles she’d seen last night. The familiar feel of a strong body protecting her from the world was a heady sensation.
Footsteps crunched sticks and dried leaves that fell from the elm trees earlier that spring. John’s body tightened becoming more rigid, more alert.
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” a somewhat familiar older voice said.
“Mr. Searcy?” John asked, breaking their contact and lifting his chest from hers.
“Brian, boy. I didn’t recognize you with that head of hair gone. Looks good. Is that you, Miss Alicia?”
Joe Searcy had worked for the Adams family all of their lives. She’d witnessed him breaking up many fights between the boys and escorting them to their parents more than once by holding their ears.
Alicia shoved at John’s pectorals and scrambled to a sitting position, straightening her tank top. All the while both men chuckled.
“It’s about time you two got together,” Joe said with his cigarette-battered vocal cords. “I remember catching you around the property a time or two.”
“That was John, Mr. Searcy.” John laced his fingers through hers and smiled goofily while pretending to be his twin. Pretending unsuccessfully. Brian was never goofy.
“You’re really reminding him of that?” she whispered, knowing Joe was hard of hearing.
How anyone ever got them confused was beyond her. That goofy mischievousness was 100 percent John.
“What’s that?” the older man complained. “And, Brian, why so formal? You’ve been calling me Joe since you’ve been stopping by to help around the place for Miss Alicia.”
“Yes, sir,” John said.
“Sorry I mumbled, Joe. It’s good to see you outside, but where’s your walking stick?” She disengaged from John, stood and brushed the dirt from her jeans. “John, would you—” She stopped herself, remembering at the last minute he was pretending to be his brother. “John would get so embarrassed when you caught us. Remember?”
She went to Joe and gave him a hug. John stood and hunted for a stick, quick to understand what she’d been about to ask him.
“Miss Alicia, I don’t need a walking stick.”
“Now, Joe, we agreed after the fall you took last March that you’d get a walking stick for uneven ground. It’s either that or a cane. You promised.”
“Always looking out for everybody. How long you two been seeing each other?”
She shook her head at John, warning him not to answer. He handed Joe a sturdy-looking stick, smooth enough for his callused but weaker hand to grip.
“Thank you, Boy-o. I forgot the one you brought by the house. No need to make another. And I’ll remember to use it. Now, you two should think about finding a cooler place to cuddle. Why, out here, you could have a sunstroke getting all hot and bothered.” Joe waggled his bushy eyebrows at them.
Heaven help me.
Certain she’d changed several shades of embarrassing pink in a few seconds, she watched John smile and nod in agreement. She attempted to dart her eyes and jerk her head away from Joe to indicate she was ready to escape. John didn’t seem interested or just flat-out ignored her. He seemed to be having a good laugh at her expense.
“How’s your father, Brian?”
“Better, sir. Thanks for asking. Alicia’s taking great care of him. In fact, he’s the one who suggested we take a break today.”
“Good. Good. He up for visitors yet?” Joe finally took a step away.
“Probably do him good to see you,
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