“Stop. I mean it. I’m ordinary.”
He grabbed her chin lightly with his hand and tipped her face toward the moonlight. “In this light, they are the color of mahogany. That deep and dark wood has a ton of strength and can withstand almost anything you throw at it. That’s what you remind me of.”
Lou snorted. “My mother always said I had eyes the color of a beer bottle.”
Brody laughed loudly. “A beer bottle? Boy, was she imaginative! That’s about as flattering as comparing them to an A-1 Steak Sauce bottle, huh?” His look became more serious. “She wasn’t thinking clearly. It is really what’s behind the eyes that matter.”
His steely gray eyes met hers. Lou looked away nervously. Brody lightened the mood by leaning back in his rocker and singing out the lyrics to Brown Eyed Girl.
Lou grinned wildly. “God, I love that song! I always thought it was written just for me.”
He stopped singing momentarily. “Did a lot of laughing and running, skipping and jumping, huh? Or was it hearts a-thumping?” he joked.
“Laughing and running. I never did a lot of hearts a-thumping.” Not ‘til recently, she thought.
“I bet you danced to that song at every school dance,” he teased.
“Nope. Never danced to it even once,” she responded.
He got up from his chair and extended a hand to her. “We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?”
“Oh, no. Absolutely not!” She laughed nervously.
“Come on…I can tell you want to.” He took her hand and gently pulled her from the chair. She rose cautiously and regarded him from beneath lowered lashes.
Brody started to sing quietly as he pulled her close to him. He held one hand in his and put the other on his shoulder. He pulled her close, but not close enough that their bodies touched. He swayed with her to the tune in his head.
Lou, slightly embarrassed, looked down at her feet. He touched her chin with one hand and brought her eyes back u
p to meet his. He smiled softly.
He saw resolution return to her face as her voice tentatively met his on the chorus.
“Now, you’re getting the hang of it,” he said, laughing gently as they swayed as softly and slowly as the breeze.
He stopped singing, stopped dancing. He pulled her a little closer to him and raised her hand, still held in his palm, to his shoulder. Then both of his larger hands circled her waist. “This is that awkward moment when you can’t figure out whether or not to let the girl go.”
“You probably should,” she said quietly, her arms trembling.
“What if I don’t want to?”
“You’re going to go away some time soon, Brody,” she groaned. “I don’t want to fall for you.” Any harder than I already have.
“You do have a point.” He nodded and then raised an eyebrow. “But the best laid plans of mice and men…”
“Often go awry,” she finished for him breathlessly as she stood on tiptoe and placed her lips against his.
He immediately enveloped her in his arms, as though her invitation was all he needed. His arms moved around her waist, crossing at her back. He pulled her as tightly to him as he could, as though he could pull her right into himself.
“I can’t seem to get you off my mind.” His lips left hers to trail across her throat.
“Same here,” she said breathlessly. His lips traced a silky pattern across her collarbone. Brody bent and slipped one arm beneath her knees and lifted her from her feet.
“Brody!” she cried. He smothered her protest with another searing kiss, his lips parting hers with his tongue. Brody sat down with her in a rocking chair and placed her in his lap. Her legs hung over the arm of the chair and her bottom fit snugly in his lap.
She tried to sit up. “I’m too heavy to sit in your lap.”
He grabbed the outside of her thigh and ceased her frantic retreat. His hand roamed up her thigh toward her bottom. “You’re perfect for sitting on my lap.” His hand moved over her hip, up her arm, and found a place under her hair to hold her neck. He smiled at her gently and said against her closed lips, “Want to relax some? I promise I won’t bite.”