That Runaway Summer. Darlene Gardner

drifted to her mouth.

      “There’s one way to find out.”

      Her lips parted. He waited for them to form a no, but all that came out of her mouth was warm, sweet-smelling breath.

      He slid his palm to the soft skin of her neck and gently cupped the base of her skull. She leaned into his touch, her chin tipping, her lips tilting upward.

      Such full, pretty lips.

      She was standing slightly uphill from him, which partially made up for their difference in height. He pressed his mouth gently against hers, breathing in her breath, feeling her lips cling to his. It would have been the sweetest of kisses if not for the instant hardening of his body, which he hoped like hell she didn’t notice.

      No pressure, he told himself as he fought not to deepen the kiss, contenting himself with tracing the seam of her mouth with his tongue. No demands, he thought as he worked his way from one edge of her mouth to the other with a series of soft kisses. Just a simple experiment in sexual chemistry. She’d braced her hand on his heart, which felt as if it might combust.

      She pulled back first.

      “That was nice,” she said, smiling at him pleasantly with her well-kissed lips, “but I still don’t want to go out with you.”

      He blinked a few times, trying to clear the sexual fog clogging his head, attempting to get his body under control.

      “I live over there.” She indicated a two-story Victorian house that seemed far too large for one person. She headed for it, picking up speed as she went.

      “Thanks for walking me home,” she called over her shoulder when she reached the top step of a wraparound porch. Baskets of hanging flowers that were probably a riot of color in the daylight hung from the porch in strategic locations.

      “You’re welcome.” His reply was automatic, although a different response rang in his head.

      Why the hell didn’t she want to date him?

      The thud of the door closing jarred him back to his senses. He moved away from the streetlight, into the relative darkness of the sidewalk where he could rationalize away what had just happened.

      He’d reacted strongly to Jill because she was the first woman he’d kissed since Maggie had done a number on his heart almost a year ago.

      In all that time, he hadn’t been tempted to date anyone.

      He still wasn’t.

      So why was he already looking forward to the next time he ran into Jill Jacobi?

      CHAPTER TWO

      JILL LEANED AGAINST the smooth plane of the closed door, marveling at the show of nonchalance she’d been able to pull off, aware she had only seconds to get her heart to stop pounding and blood to quit racing.

      “I’m in the living room, dear,” Felicia Feldman called. No surprise there. Jill had seen the fluttering of the curtain covering a front window as she approached the house.

      Felicia sat in her favorite armchair in front of the television, the remote control in hand, her gray hair in stark contrast to the floral pattern of the chair. The air smelled of freshly baked bread, one of Felicia’s specialties. Jill never took for granted how lucky she and Chris were to live in this house with this wonderful woman.

      “Who was that young man you were kissing, dear?” Felicia had already muted the sound of the program she was watching. On the screen, a lineup of nervous young women waited to see whether the hunk in the tuxedo would hand them a rose.

      If Dan Maguire were the rose giver and Jill one of the contestants, would she be angling for a flower? Jill pressed together her still-warm lips, preferring not to think about it.

      “Hey, Felicia.” Jill smiled at her. “The Bachelor a rerun tonight?”

      “Why, yes.” Felicia’s lips parted and she nodded. “How did you know that?”

      “You wouldn’t be looking out the window if it wasn’t.”

      Felicia’s laugh had a smoker’s raspy quality even though she’d said she quit years ago. “You’re right about that. I guess my mind was drifting. I wondered when you’d get home, I opened the curtain and there you were.”

      “Chris is okay, isn’t he?” Jill was relatively sure of the answer. Felicia had her cell phone number in case of emergency.

      “Oh, yes, yes. He went to bed a little while ago. Your brother is no trouble at all. Quiet as a mouse, that boy is.”

      “I appreciate you looking out for him more than you can know.”

      “Like I told you when you moved in,” Felicia said, “I’m glad to do it.”

      The older woman had also confided she’d decided to rent out rooms after a scare in which she’d nearly lost her home to foreclosure. Her great-nephew, who lived in town, kept trying to help with mortgage payments, but she was having none of that.

      Felicia had soon been treating Jill and Chris like family. A widow in her seventies with no children of her own, Felicia embraced the grandmotherly role, looking out for Chris while Jill wasn’t home and whipping up fabulous home-cooked meals for all three of them.

      “I’ll let you get back to your program, then,” Jill said, and turned. “I’m calling it a night.”

      “You can’t turn in yet,” Felicia protested. “You haven’t told me about your evening.”

      Jill sucked in a breath through her teeth and did a cheerful about-face. She reentered the room and perched on the arm of the sofa, which was covered in the same flowery fabric as the chair.

      “I had a very good time,” Jill said. “Johnny Pollock grilled burgers the size of your head.”

      Felicia’s hands flew north and traced the shape of her scalp. “Really?”

      Jill laughed. “Not exactly, but close. That man cooks a big burger. Penelope made these white-chocolate brownies for dessert that about melted in my mouth. I can get you the recipe if you like.”

      “Please do.” Felicia enjoyed few things in life more than baking, as evidenced by the delicious smells that regularly wafted through the house.

      “Penelope was a hoot, as usual. She and Johnny just passed their one-year anniversary. She bought a dozen plastic leis and left them all over the house until Johnny got the hint and booked a trip to Hawaii. They’re going next week.”

      “Hawaii!” Felicia parroted. “How nice!”

      The television camera panned to a close-up of a euphoric bachelorette clutching a rose. It cut away to a shot of the woman and the bachelor sharing a kiss in a hot tub, a moment that appeared to have helped the woman’s cause.

      Jill hadn’t stuck around to discover if Dan had been about to hand her the verbal equivalent of a rose after their amazing kiss. She couldn’t have accepted if he had, not when the tale he’d spun about her was so close to the truth.

      She tore her eyes from the TV and banished Dan from her mind.

      “Johnny’s remodeling their house. The kitchen’s pretty as a picture with stainless steel appliances, mahogany cabinets, granite countertops and this wonderful wood floor. We ate on the back deck, which could be featured in a home and garden magazine.” Jill stood up again. “And that’s about all there is to tell.”

      “But you haven’t said anything about the man you were kissing!” Felicia caught Jill’s hand. “My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but it looked like the vet.”

      So much for trying to distract the landlady.

      “You can see just fine, Felicia.” Jill resigned herself to the inevitable. On some level, she’d known she wouldn’t get out of the room before she addressed the subject that refused to stay