Page 70 of Keepsake
She gave me a quick hug, then left for school. I went outside to offer my services to Zach or whomever was working in the orchard today. I waved at Ruth in her garden, then walked toward the sound of a mower in the orchard. The Cortlands were ripe and heavy on the trees, and I wondered how many bushels we could sell at the market in Montpelier tomorrow.
I found Zach on an orange Kubota tractor, mowing the grass between a row of apple trees. When he saw me, he cut the engine. I walked toward him as it sputtered and died. “Hi there.”
He gave me a big smile. “Hi yourself.” He got off the tractor and approached me, taking my hands in his. “Feeling okay this morning?”
“Never better. You? Were the guys merciless?”
“Eh.” He shrugged “There was some ribbing. But it had a desperate quality to it, you know? As if Kyle is all confused now because he doesn’t know what to tease me about anymore.”
Standing on tiptoes, I laughed. And then I kissed him.
Strong arms closed around me. His kiss was slow, his lips measuring mine as if trying to make sure he had all the details in place. I felt a happy zing of longing as he changed the angle and deepened the kiss.
Yessss. Desire was a lovely drug. I wanted more of it.
But Zach pulled back eventually. “Can we talk for a minute?”
No. “Really? This is our only moment of privacy, and you want to talk? Have I taught you nothing?”
I kissed him again, and he chuckled into my mouth. “You kill me,” he whispered. “What I have to say won’t take up too much time, okay?” He cupped my face in one of his hands.
“Are you going to say we shouldn’t have done it?” I looked up into his serious blue eyes. “Because I have no regrets.”
He shook his head slowly. “I wasn’t going to say that. But I want you to know you’re important to me. It wasn’t just an itch I wanted to scratch.”
I tried not to squirm under all that blue-eyed attention. “You’re important to me, too,” I admitted. He really was. I couldn’t imagine getting through these past several weeks without his steady presence at my side.Just don’t fall in love with me, I inwardly begged.I’m a wreck and a half.
He smiled again, and I tugged him into a kiss. He came willingly. One kiss became two, which became…we lost count. At some point Zach turned me to the side and hoisted me onto the Kubota’s seat. He stepped between my knees and kissed me again, his long fingers sweeping up my back.
It was glorious. He smelled like freshly mown grass and sunshine. I snuck a hand up under his T-shirt to skim those perfect, golden abs. I loved how silky his chest hair felt under my fingertips. He moaned softly when my fingertips retreated downward again, toward the waistband of his Carhartts.
I became aware of Griffin’s voice in the distance. He was saying something about Cortlands. But I thought I could have one more kiss before he interrupted us.
But no.
“Lark?”
Unfortunately, that second voice did not belong to Griff or one of his cousins. I pulled away, giving a panting Zach a gentle nudge backward, and craned my neck to see past him. The two people standing beside Griffin were not who I was expecting. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”
Zach practically leapt away from me, his head swinging toward the end of the orchard row, eyes wide as my parents walked toward us. There was no way they’d missed the fact that we’d been lip-locked a few seconds ago.
“This is a surprise,” I said, my voice not entirely welcoming. They’d shown up without telling me, which made me feel like I was seven years old. My eyes traveled from my mother’s tiny face, which suited her tiny frame, up a good foot and change to my father’s stern expression. “Did somebody die?”
“No!” my mother said, her lips pursed. “We just wanted to see you.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, still feeling I was missing something. “So youbothjust drove up…on a Monday morning? A workday?”
“You told your mother that Mondays were quiet. No tourists and no markets,” my father said. “So here we are. Aren’t you going to introduce us?” His glance shifted to Zach.
I was still playing catch-up. “Mom, Dad, this is Zachariah,” I said quickly. “Zach, these are my parents who don’t call before they come to visit.”
“Lark!” my mother’s voice was sharp. “If I thought there was a chance you’d answer the phone, I would call more often.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Zach said, extending a hand first to my mother. “Sir,” he said, shaking my father’s hand next.
“Well, someone has manners,” my mother muttered, looking up at Zach.
Zachariah’s face colored with embarrassment. I could only imagine the guilty thoughts in his head right now. It had been five or so hours ago that he’d been naked and moaning in my bed.
