Something About Ewe: Something About Ewe / The Purrfect Man. Ruth Dale Jean

The warm voice in her ear made her jump in surprise and nearly drop the platters she’d been stacking. Hands equally warm settled on her upper arms. “You’re a guest. How come every time I see you, you’re working?”

      “Because—” Thalia caught her breath, intensely aware of his touch. “I don’t feel like a guest. I feel like an employee,” she insisted stubbornly.

      He turned her to face him, taking the platters from her and replacing them on the buffet table. The two of them were, she suddenly realized, quite alone. In the silence she could hear the water in the pool lapping against the tile, the faint hum of an unseen pump.

      He sighed. “You are one stubborn woman,” he said regretfully. “Did you have a good time?”

      “It was a nice party,” she said evasively, thinking she should step away from his light grip but indecisive because that might be construed as more than it was. She licked her lips. “I saw a lot of friends and that was nice.”

      “I got a lot of nice presents.”

      That made her smile. He’d got a lot of gag gifts, like the embroidered hat from Emily which read Doggy Doctor in large script.

      He touched the corner of her upcurved mouth with his thumb. “There, that’s what I wanted to see. A smile.”

      She tried to stifle it, without notable success.

      His voice was low and warm. “I don’t have a birthday gift from you yet.”

      “And that ain’t the half of it,” she retorted.

      He looked hurt. “No present?”

      She spread her hands between them. “Do I look like I’m hiding a birthday gift?”

      “Well, yes.”

      She frowned. “I’d like to know where.”

      “Remember, you asked for it.” He stepped closer, until his thighs touched hers lightly. “I’ve been waiting all evening to collect my birthday kiss.”

      “Birthday—!” She stepped back, stumbling in her haste. “If you think I’m going to give you a—”

      “Watch out!” He made a grab for her. “Don’t—”

      But it was too late. Her foot bumped against a stack of ropes coiled on the deck next to the pool. Losing her balance, she tipped backward, grabbing wildly for any support. Her fumbling hands touched the collar of his flower-bedecked Hawaiian shirt and clenched tight.

      He let out a muffled and surprised humpf and together they tumbled into the deep end of the pool. They came up coughing and gasping for air.

      Thalia, treading water, shoved hair out of her eyes. “Why did you do that?” she cried.

      He moved as easily in the water as he did on land. “I didn’t do it. You did.”

      “I—did, didn’t I?” And then she couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into delighted laughter. “I guess that’s your birthday gift, then.” Flipping over, she took off for the shallow end of the crystal-clear pool, stroking strongly.

      “Yes!”

      His satisfied shout sent fresh shivers down her spine. She’d never before been in the water fully dressed and there was something downright decadent about it. Fortunately, she was a good swimmer.

      But he was better. He caught her just as her toes touched the bottom at the shallow end. She struggled to shake off his hold, impeded by her laughter. He turned her around anyway, his amber eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief.

      “Happy birthday to me!”

      “That’s what you—”

      The rest was lost in the pressure of his mouth on hers…his mouth, chilly and wet at first but quickly growing warm and masterful. It is his birthday, she thought foggily. One kiss—one little bitty kiss—

      Which led to another, and another—

      “Come out of that pool this instant! Honestly, you—” Sylvia’s command ended in a shriek of embarrassment. “Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was you and…is that Thalia?”

      Sylvia was no more shocked than the object of her attention. Thalia shoved out of Luke’s slack embrace and moved to the ladder as quickly as she could, which wasn’t very. Waterlogged clothing and shoes weighed her down, but she managed to drag herself up the ladder.

      It got worse. Lorraine stood beside Sylvia. Taking a good look at her dripping daughter, she burst out laughing.

      From the pool, Luke intervened. “Back off, you two,” he ordered. “Thalia was just giving me my birthday kiss.”

      “No, I wasn’t!” Thalia glared at him. “He was taking his birthday kiss. There’s a difference.”

      “Really?” Lorraine sounded suspiciously innocent. “From where I was standing, any difference wasn’t immediately discernible.”

      Feeling cornered and considerably flustered, Thalia glared equally at them all. “Look, I’m not accustomed to being thrown into a swimming pool with my clothes on,” she tried to defend herself. “I’m not responsible!”

      Luke shook his head sadly. “What happened was, she tripped. I was trying to save her.”

      “Luke,” she yelled at him, “you’re not acting like a man who turned thirty-two today!”

      “Because I’m not a serious person—capital S, capital P?”

      Both mothers laughed and looked expectantly at Thalia, who lifted her chin haughtily. “I won’t apologize for being a grown-up,” she announced.

      “You’re not a grown-up, you’re an old lady,” he tossed back, his smile never slipping. “You’re only twenty-seven and you act seventy.”

      “And you act like you’re thirteen,” she retorted.

      “Come to your senses before it’s too late,” he urged, moving through the water toward the steps. “You still have time. Don’t you ever want to just let go and enjoy?”

      “Boy,” Lorraine said breathlessly, “I sure do.”

      “Mother!”

      “Lorraine, you’re too old for that kind of nonsense,” Sylvia inserted. “And in case there’s any doubt, you made a fool out of yourself hanging over Four-Jay that way.”

      “Oh, you think so?” Lorraine got a crafty look on her face. “Do I hear a little jealousy in there somewhere?”

      “Me? Jealous of you?” Sylvia drew herself up to her full height, looking even more regal than usual in her imported Hawaiian muumuu and six or eight fresh flower leis coiled around her neck. “That will be the day!”

      “Maybe, but it wouldn’t be the first time, would it.”

      While the two bickered, Luke hauled himself out of the pool. His white shorts clung; his flowered shirt did likewise, leaving little to the imagination. Thalia shivered.

      “You’re cold,” he said with quick concern. “Come in the house and I’ll find something dry for you to—”

      “That’s not necessary. I’ll just go on home.”

      “Suit yourself.” But his expression conveyed his disapproval. Grabbing a towel from a stack on a nearby bench, he tossed it to her. “At least put this over the car seat to protect it.”

      “Thank you.”

      “And Thalia…”

      “Yes, Luke?”

      “Thanks for my birthday kiss—or maybe we should call that kisses. Because no matter how you spin it, you were there, sweetheart.”

      “That’s your