Forever Hers by Walters, Ednah (new ebook reader .TXT) 📗

“Thanks for this,” Eddie mumbled, raising the glass.

“No problem. We drink a lot of lemonade around here.” Her voice was husky, low and hesitant as though her mind was elsewhere, then she glanced at the dark smudges he’d left on her hand.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make your hand dirty,” he said.

Amy shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

He sipped his lemonade, savoring the tartness. It wasn’t too sweet, just like he liked it. He drained the glass then grinned at Raelynn, who hadn’t moved from behind her mother.

“That was very good lemonade. Can I have more, please?” His eyes met Amy’s and the smile on her lush lips suddenly disappeared. It was as though a door slammed between them.

Not sure what just happened, he focused on her little girl, who tugged her mother’s arm. Amy added more lemonade in his glass, placed the pitcher back on the tray and rubbed her hands on her shorts. Eddie didn’t know what he’d said or done to make her have that ready-to-bolt look on her face.

“We’ll leave the pitcher. Uh, we’re planning on going grocery shopping this afternoon, so if you need anything other than what we discussed earlier, I’ll pick them up too.”

“Sure.” He studied her and wondered why she couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Alright then,” she said, turning away and reaching for her daughter’s hand. “Come on, sweetie. Sand-o-ville needs new roads and buildings.”

Eddie watched mother and daughter walk away, their conversation punctuated by Raelynn’s giggles. He had no idea what Sand-o-ville was, but the little girl appeared to have ideas on how to make it beautiful.

“What is lemonade con…con…?” he heard Raelynn ask when they stopped by the sandpit.

“Connoisseur,” Amy finished. “It means someone who makes the best lemonade and that’s what you are—lemonade connoisseur.”

She removed her daughter’s life vest then the little girl squatted and started shoving sand with a small, blue plastic shovel. Amy glanced back at him and gave him a smile he couldn’t define. Again, he wondered what the heck had happened. One minute he was connecting with her daughter, then next she couldn’t wait to put some distance between them.

A dark-haired boy around Raelynn’s age came running from the neighboring house to the right and joined them. Most of the houses weren’t fenced or separated by any visible vegetation, and the lawns overlapped. He would have to ask her how far to mow.

“Ahoy, Jimmy,” Amy called out, drawing Eddie’s attention.

“Can I play with Raelynn, Mrs. Franklin?”

Mrs. Franklin? Was that her married name? She laughed, the sound both sweet and sexy.

“Of course you can,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You know you never have to ask.”

“Mom said when you have guests, I shouldn’t bother you,” the boy said, already digging in the sand.

“I’m sure Mr. Fitzgerald won’t mind having a few children around now and then.” Amy didn’t look his way as he spoke.

He minded. Winning over one little girl was all he could deal with now. Dealing with a bunch of them was not part of his vacation plans. As though on cue, a second boy with a shock of red hair, this one taller than Raelynn, ran from the house on the other side and joined the group in the sandpit. Three. How many more? Do they also spend time inside the house?

Eddie lifted the glass to his lips and drained the lemonade, his gaze on Amy as she walked toward the house. In the age when women starved themselves to stay thin, she embraced her curves with pride. Her walk, a slow roll of hips as though to draw attention to them, was both sexy and confident. His traitorous body responded.

Great things come in small packages. A bit of a cliché, but Amy embodied it. She was every man’s dream wrapped in skimpy cut-offs and a tank top. What did she do for a living?

From his cousin’s conversation, it was something he wouldn’t like. From the way she’d held the gun and the flashlight, she could be a cop. Maybe she was undercover. He wouldn’t object to that. He would even help her nab the burglar robbing the homes along the lake.

No, she couldn’t be a cop. No sane policewoman, or policeman, would go undercover with their own child. What if she was the burglar? Eddie chuckled at the thought. He could smell a con artist a mile away. Amy’s direct gaze said she was honest, and the way she jumped on any topic without weighing the consequences indicated she was impulsive and without guile.

So how did she earn her living?

He’d noticed a desktop computer on a table in the living room and a laptop on the coffee table. Maybe she did something online. Telemarketing? Gambling? None were illegal. Could she be in the online adult entertainment business? That was also perfectly within the law. He wasn’t old fashioned, despite her belief. If a woman wanted to make a living by removing her clothes and remotely fulfilling men’s fantasies, it was their business. She had the body, the face and a mouth that inspired fantasies. He reigned in his.

Cursing, Eddie put the glass down, pulled off his shirt and jeans. In his swim trunks, he walked to the end of the pier and dove in. A swim would cool his blood. Maybe make him rational.

Thirty minutes of attacking water brought him no closer to feeling better. He was lusting after a woman he barely knew. He pulled himself up the ladder, forked fingers through his hair and looked toward the house. Amy was inside somewhere. The thought filled him with anticipation he couldn’t explain. He squashed it.

Raelynn and her admirers were busy doing their sand thing. Having them so close to the water bothered him. Being a cop, he tended to see safety concerns an average person missed or ignored. There was a pole by the pier with life jackets for kids and adults. A few donut-like flotation water toys were also looped on another pole.

With the kids’ high-pitched chatter in the background, Eddie finished