A Man for the Summer by Ruby Laska Page A

pair of white T-shirts that were printed with the words “BRIDE” and “GROOM” in big black letters. Junior sat down next to them and smiled.
    “You two sure know how to shake up a town,” she said, and hugged Taylor affectionately.
    “This is Raoul,” the girl said and it was clear that the pair was enjoying their young marriage. “He’s real sweet.”
    The young man shook her hand earnestly, grinning.
    “Well, thanks for providing us all with a reason to party,” Junior said. “I think we’re—I’m—going to get going. It’s late.”
    “Sure,” Taylor said. As Junior stood to go, she added, “You know, I’m not the only one that knows how to shake up a place.”
    Junior colored and froze.
    “Uh, what?”
    “Nothing. Just say hi to your guy. Maybe next time I’ll get to meet him.”
    “Oh, Taylor, I’m sorry, I just didn’t—”
    Taylor dismissed her apology with a wave of her hand and a big grin. “Just make sure he sticks around long enough that I get a chance.”
    “They look happy,” Griff said as she re-joined him outside the noisy circle. He slipped her hand into his as they headed out into the darkness, moonlight barely outlining the cars parked in the field. If anything, there were more cars now than earlier, even though it was nearly midnight.
    “They are happy. This is a happy place,” Junior said.
    “For you, too, Junior? Have you really been content here? Are you now?”
    It wasn’t the sort of question Junior felt like answering. It wasn’t even the sort of thing she wanted to hear, because then it would make her think, and thinking would make her question, and really, truly, it was much easier not to. Which is what she would have kept doing if this whole horrible business with the doctor hadn’t changed everything and set her life upside down.
    Of course, if all that hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t be here with Griff.
    And being with Griff was becoming increasingly hard to resist.
    “I’m happy, I’m content, really,” she said. And for the moment it was true.
    He squeezed her hand and, despite his earlier performance, managed to guide her quite ably to his rental car, where he opened the passenger door and helped her duck inside.
    “You didn’t ask me if I drove,” she accused, smiling up at him before he shut the door.
    “No,” he said, “I didn’t.”
    “But what if I had?”
    “You didn’t.” He shut the door gently, and a moment later slid in the driver’s seat. Before he eased the car out of the field into the night, he turned to her and trailed a thumb along the side of her face. “Because, see, you knew you were going home with me.”
     
     
    This time when she slipped out of her dress, she saw how he looked at her and she drank it in deeply. This time she wasn’t going to miss anything.
    She worried that she was too pale, too thin, too flat, but then his hands were on her and his touch was needful and tender and she saw that everything was just right.
    And then she unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and he made short work of the rest. His trousers followed and he reached for her, but she stopped him with an upraised palm.
    “Let me look,” she whispered hoarsely.
    He did. He smiled indulgently, turned to the left and the right, and then saw how her eyes widened and her lips parted and he took her in his arms.
    There had been a warning bell in his brain earlier, and he suspected this was wrong, but it was too late now. She made a little whimpering sound as he tugged the thick coil of her hair and exposed her long, pale neck, then trailed his lips along the sensitive skin.
    He was ready this time, and he bent to enjoy her, to taste the freckled expanse from her throat down across her delicate collarbones and beyond.
    Under his hands, his lips, Junior stirred, and made a noise that was pure enjoyment. It was half purr, half growl, and it made him hot. He wanted to hear it again.
    He brushed a thumb against her nipple and got his