Break On Through by Christie Ridgway Page A

fact, gape as she braked beside some other cars on a gravel lot. The surroundings were like a combination of a theme park and a vacation resort, she thought, exiting her car and then moving to help out the boys. A small cottage was situated nearby, but beyond it she could see paths winding through tall eucalyptus and flowering shrubs. There was a huge pool and pool house, a tennis court, an orchard that crawled up a steep hillside, and three distinct homes. Mansions.
    One looked like something out of a Western, complete with steer skull on the massive front door. Another was a castle, and included a tower worthy of a fairy tale. The last was a glass-walled modern structure, which looked as if it had been plucked from the future and incongruously set down amidst emerald grass and matching sycamore trees.
    Just then, the cottage’s side door swung open to reveal Cilla. “This is treasure hunt HQ,” she said, waving Cleo toward her. “Welcome.”
    She was glad to move into the smaller home instead of one of the bigger places. Ushering Eli and Obie forward, she matched Cilla’s smile. “This is charming,” she said, entering a spacious, sunny kitchen. Teens sat at the table with lists all around them, deep in conversation.
    “It belonged to Gwen, who was the closest thing to a steady mother figure we Lemon kids had,” she explained. “We lost her to cancer last spring.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cleo said.
    “It brought Ren back to L.A.,” she said. “Gwen would have loved our happy ending.”
    “What’s that?” A big man with long dark hair and distinctive green eyes strolled into the kitchen. “Did I hear my name?”
    “I was telling Cleo that Gwen would be thrilled we’re together.” Cilla beamed up at him. He visibly softened at the smile, his eyes tender as he gazed on her face.
    “ I’m thrilled we’re together,” he said, stooping to brush a kiss against her temple. Then he straightened, holding his hand out to Cleo. “Ren. Cilla’s fiancé.”
    His grip was firm and friendly. “I’m Cleo. Cleo Anderson.” She indicated her sons, who were sticking close to her side. “This is Eli and Obie.”
    He nodded at them. “Eli. Obie.” Then he glanced back at his bride-to-be. “Shall I find Reed?”
    “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Cleo said quickly, embarrassed that they’d apparently been paired off by the couple. “I’m fine on my own.”
    “Okay,” Cilla said. “Why don’t you take the boys outside then? A bunch of kids are fooling around in the front until we’re ready to get the show on the road. Go through the house and out the other door.” She pointed.
    Following directions, Cleo moved through the kitchen, then glanced back to say a quick “thanks,” only to see that Ren had taken Cilla into his arms and his mouth was fastened on hers. The kiss wasn’t particularly lascivious, but there was something so very intimate about it, maybe because she could see that their hands were entwined and the tattoos on their wrists matched up to form a heart.
    Her own beat just a little bit harder and her face flamed when Ren’s lips moved to Cilla’s neck. Cleo suddenly needed a breeze, ice, better yet, a snowstorm, something to cool the odd heat in her blood.
    Ordering her eyes forward, she herded the boys to the front door. Outside, they immediately joined some children about their ages kicking around a soccer ball. She took in a deep breath, more than a bit embarrassed how the second kiss of the day she’d inadvertently witnessed was affecting her. Stripping off the cardigan she wore over her simple shift dress, she was grateful it was sleeveless, though even the air moving over her bare arms felt too much like a caress.
    What was wrong with her?
    Not only was she seeing kisses everywhere, but glimpsing male-female contact seemed to super-sensitize her own body. Blood had rushed to the surface of her skin, making her hot and hyper-aware of her mouth, her breasts, the