Mad About You

The sight of him sent jolts of sexual awareness through her limbs. He'd traded his polo shirt for a snug white T-shirt. His face and arms glistened with sweat, and bits of hay stuck to his skin. His jeans were tucked into a pair of old workboots. He dabbed at his forehead with a bandanna. She stopped on the next to last step, a couple of feet above him, her body tingling.
    "Hey," he said, smiling up at her.
    "Hey, yourself. Thanks for the card."
    He wet his lips. "You're welcome."
    "And the flowers."
    He nodded.
    She gazed into his eyes, and descended one more step. "You look... hot."
    He studied her carefully. "I am... hot."
    "Where's Chad?"
    "He found Jean Ann's tire swing. I thought I'd take a shower before we go on the picnic."
    Her fantasies whirled free. "A shower?"
    "Uh-huh," he said just as slowly. "A hot shower."
    She stepped down again, coming to stand within inches of him. "A hot, soapy shower?"
    He reached for her and crushed her into a deep kiss. She tasted the salt from his skin and felt the heat from his mouth. She inhaled the musky scent of him, and her legs weakened. Her tongue swirled over the smooth surface of his teeth, then probed deeper. Their kiss became more urgent as their hunger for each other escalated. She clenched at the muscles on his back, feeling the soaked, flimsy shirt beneath her fingers. She tore it from his waistband and raked her nails against the moist, warm skin of his back.
    Behind them, the screen door slammed. "Oh, brother," Chad said loudly.
    They parted quickly, both breathing hard, and stared at their son.
    Bailey shoved his hand through his hair. "I thought you were on the tire swing," he said raggedly, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
    "I thought you were going to take a shower," Chad said, just as annoyed.
    "I was," Bailey sighed in exasperation. "I am." He climbed the stairs in long strides.
    Her chest rose and fell as she fought to regain control of her breathing. Chad stared at her with narrowed eyes until she started to squirm. "You got hay all over you," he said, then turned and walked back outside.
    She looked down and saw bits of straw on her arms and clothing, then stepped out on the front porch to brush herself off. Chad sat in an old metal glider a few feet away. She walked over and leaned on the rail near him.
    "It's a great day for a picnic."
    "Yeah, if we ever get there."
    After a few seconds of silence Virginia tilted her head and asked, "Chad, does it bother you when Bailey kisses me?"
    He looked at her and rolled his eyes. "No."
    "Then why did you act so mad just now?"
    He looked away and said nothing.
    "Chad?"
    He jerked his head toward her. "Because," he yelled, "you're always in the way, that's why! I want to spend time with my dad, and every time I turn around he's kissing you instead!"
    She flinched. "Chad, I—"
    "I don't want to hear anything you have to say!" He jumped up and leapt off the porch, then disappeared around the house.
    Virginia sat down on the porch steps and contemplated her next move. Sighing, she rolled her head back and closed her eyes. Even a fool could see where this flirtation with Bailey was leading. The question she had to answer was whether she believed he'd become a man with staying power; otherwise, she couldn't afford to invest any more of her life and love in Bailey Kallihan.
    The one thing she was sure of was that Chad needed to be with Bailey. Maybe it was his age or maybe it was his genetic tendency, but he flourished around his father and Bailey benefited from Chad's company as well.
    She opened her eyes. So where did that leave her?
    The door opened and she sat up. His hair still wet from the shower, Bailey walked out wearing navy swim trunks, a pale gray T-shirt, and low-top athletic shoes. He smelled like soap and carried the picnic basket in one arm, an old quilt and three faded life jackets in the other. "What are you thinking about?"
    "You," she said.
    He sat down beside her. "What about me?"
    She looked him in the eye. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"
    His eyebrows knitted and he toyed with the frayed thread of a life jacket. "I plan to be right here at Shenoway, but I don't think that's what you're asking."
    "No, it isn't."
    He lifted his gaze to hers. "Ginny, I can't imagine any other woman in my life except you."
    Tears gathered in her eyes.
    "Uh-oh, the tears I can't handle." He leaned over to kiss her nose and she smiled. "That's better — are you ready?" He stood up and offered her a