Taylor Made Owens by R.D. Power Page A

restaurant throughout the summer.
    He also mowed Kim Arnold’s lawn—not so much for the money as for the view. He’d zip through the front yard and tarry through the back with Kim traipsing about her garden in her bathing suit. He was more often than not invited to stay for a swim.
    For the last two weeks of July, he also got to ogle her older sister who was visiting from BC with her children. A thirty-four-year-old divorcee, Molly Thorpe was as lovely as Kim. She’d lost none of her beauty to time and offspring as yet. Four years ago, her husband had left her and their children in favor of his accountant, Bruce; they’d moved to Saskatchewan together. We might wish for him to burn in hell for such a merciless deed, but life in Moose Jaw with a gay accountant is worse.
    Robert swam with her children that day, much to the delight of the women, who were sitting by the pool sipping on slushes. The children had fun climbing on him, being thrown across the pool, getting away from the horrific floating head of death, pretending to be on lifesavers in the ocean and knocking each other off them, and so on. “He’ll make a great father some day,” Molly mentioned. Kim nodded, but gave it little thought then. Noticing her younger sister gaze longingly at the young man, Molly added, “He’s really cute, don’t you think?” Kim nodded and smiled. “A bit young for you though.”
    “Well, I don’t plan on marrying him, Molly.”
    “You’re not seriously thinking about … You are, aren’t you? How old is he?”
    “He’ll be eighteen soon,” Kim answered, blushing.
    “Have you been with a man since Brian died?”
    “No.”
    “He keeps staring at you, too, when you’re not looking.”
    “I know.”
    “Well, sis, what harm could it do? Just a fun diversion until you find a nice man to marry.”
    “I’m not going to get married again.”
    “Oh, come on, Kim. You’re only twenty-six. You can’t spend the rest of your life alone.” Seeing her sister was upset, Molly ended the conversation with: “I just don’t want you to be lonely. I’m worried about you. You’re all alone here, and you seem so sad.”
    On a hot August Saturday afternoon, Kim, who was trimming her trees and shrubs in the backyard as Robert mowed her lawn, wore nothing but a skimpy bikini bottom and a halter top that hung loose over her chest. The effect was tantalizing, rather like a mini dress that had shrunk to exactly the right size, exposing her ribcage, her flat midriff, and everything beneath except for the bit covered by the bikini bottom. He studied the small of her back and the wonderful way it arched; the flawless curves of her backside; the bottoms of her firm breasts when she reached up to prune a tree; the way the straps of her bikini bottom hugged her hips and went enticingly over her slightly protruding pelvic bones; how her smooth thighs joined at … oh, it was too much.
    She was enjoying the attention as much as he was enjoying attending. “Do you know what this tree is called?” she asked him when he finished mowing.
    “Stephanie?” he guessed.
    Chuckling, she said, “No, silly, this is a cultivar of the southern magnolia. It grows this far north. Isn’t it delightful?”
    “Yes, it’s magnificent,” he said, while running his eyes up and down the gardener. Doing the same to her assistant, she could see the full extent of his appreciation for nature at its finest.
    “Do you want to join me for a swim?” she asked, while gazing into his eyes.
    “I’d love to,” he replied.
    She walked over to the pool, took off her top, smiled salaciously at him and dived in. “Come on in,” she invited. “The water’s lovely.” He dived in. She watched him under water and placed herself in front of him in the shallow end. His head came up between her toothsome breasts. She kissed him passionately. She pulled down his shorts. As she kissed his lips, his chin, his neck, his chest, and progressively worked lower, he could