Matt’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought that far.” He jumped up, staying her with his hand. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
She watched him sprint toward Bostix, the ticket and information booth adjacent to Fanueil Hall, where he managed to wedge himself through the crowd at the window, Within minutes, he had trotted back to her.
“Eight o’clock. They suggested we get there early for the best spots on the grass, but the music carries pretty far, so if you can’t get away from the shop until later—”
“I think I can convince Jamie to give Beth a hand until the shop closes. If we want to allow time to walk over the hill … How about your coming by at, say, seven? I’ll call in an order for dinner—”
“Let me take care of that. I’m on a quasi vacation, remember? My work is done for the day, while you’ve still got more to do.”
With a shy smile, she stood up. “Okay, then. I’ll see you later?”
“Sure thing.”
She nodded and had started for the shop when Matt called out to stop her. “Uh, Lauren?” Brows raised in question, she looked back. His gaze dropped from hers to the book she still held in her hand. She blushed, hurried back and gave it to him.
“Sorry. I’d forgotten I was holding it.”
“I hadn’t. If I can’t go sailing this afternoon, I’ll have to keep myself occupied somehow. Even aside from Parker’s style, I suppose there is something to be said for mystery and a little bit of violence. And as for machismo—”
“Don’t say it,” she interrupted with a teasing glint in her eyes. “I don’t think I want to hear it. A girl can take only so much, y’know.” She’d pretty much reached her limit already. Another minute or two, and she’d chuck the shop and run off to the Charles with Matt. And that she would certainly regret. The shop was lasting. Matt wasn’t. She’d have to remember that.
It was hard for her to remember much of anything that afternoon—other than the fact that Matt would be coming by for her at seven, of course. Beth teased her mercilessly when she rang something up wrong on the cash register, then again when she began to stretch fabric on a frame backside-to.
She thought seven o’clock would never arrive, but it did, bringing Matt, a blanket “compliments of the Marriott” and a large brown bag filled with all kinds of promising goodies. They walked over Beacon Hill, past the State House, the Common and the Public Garden, then across to Storrow Drive and the Hatch Shell.
They weren’t the first to arrive, but they found a patch of grass within easy viewing of the raised stage. In truth, Lauren could have sat half a mile off under a tree by the water. The fact of the concert was secondary to that of the pleasure she felt being with Matt. She didn’t analyze it, didn’t stop to wonder why she was letting herself get so carried away about a man who’d be gone before she knew it. She simply wanted to enjoy, and enjoy she did.
Matt doubled up the blanket and spread it on the grass; then, after they had both sat down, he pulled out one container of food after another. He’d brought spinach turnovers, chicken salad with grapes and walnuts, Brie and crackers, fruit and a tumbler of frothy raspberry cooler. Lauren wondered where they’d ever put such a feast and told him so. He merely laughed, then laughed again when they’d eaten nearly everything. The concert was well under way by that time. He stuffed the remains of their picnic back into the bag, then sat close to Lauren with one arm propped straight on the grass behind him.
The assembled crowd was far from quiet; esplanade concerts were that way, informal evenings geared toward lighthearted company and relaxation. Families with children, young couples, middle-aged couples, elderly couples, mixed groups—all shared the pleasure of an evening along the Charles with the sweet smell of the outdoors, the gentle breeze, the exquisite blend of strings, horns and percussion.
As the evening progressed, Lauren and Matt sat closer and closer together. Lauren couldn’t remember ever having felt so replete, and the dinner was only partly responsible. Matt was withher.Not with the pretty blonde to their right or the adorable redhead to their left. He was withher.She had only to drop her eyes from the stage to see his strong legs stretching endlessly before him. He’d changed into a white shirt and a pair of tan slacks that were more tailored than the jeans but no less sexy. His thighs were solid beneath the lightweight cloth, his hips proportionally lean. She felt the warmth of his shoulder as it gently supported her back; felt the goodness of its fit and its strength. His arm cut a diagonal swath to her hip, beside which his hand was flattened. His hand … long, tanned fingers, fine golden hairs, a well-formed wrist …
One song ended on a round of enthusiastic applause. When another began, the applause never quite stopped, for this song was a popular one with a heady beat, and the temptation to clap along was too great to resist. Too great, at least, for everyone but Lauren and Matt. They grinned along with the others, but neither seemed to want to disturb the physical closeness they’d captured. It seemed natural, and right, and very, very special.
Bidden by a silent call, Lauren turned her head to look up at Matt, and what she saw made her breath catch. His eyes were dark, drawing hers with a magnetic warmth, and his expression was one of gentle but insistent hunger. She might have been frightened by it, had her own body not been as insistently hungry. A glowing sun seemed to have risen inside her, radiating sparkles that speeded up the beat of her heart and her pulse and gave the faintest quiver to her limbs.
Lowering his head just the fraction that was necessary, he shadow-kissed her, openmouthed, not quite touching her lips. He drew back for an instant, dazed, then tipped his head and kissed her the same way, but from a different angle. The first kiss had been tantalizing enough for Lauren, but the second one was devastating. Acting purely on instinct, driven by the ache of desire, she opened her mouth in the invitation he’d been waiting for.
When he lowered his head this time, there was nothing shadowy about his kiss. It was full and binding, caressing her with a passion she’d never have believed mere lips to be capable of. She smelled the faint musk of his skin, tasted the fresh, fruity tang of his mouth, felt the sensual abrasion of his tongue as it swept through the moist recesses she offered.
She was about to turn into him, wrap her arms around his neck and draw him closer, when he dragged his mouth from hers and pressed it to her forehead. Though he didn’t speak, the harsh rasp of his breath was eloquent and comforting, since Lauren was working equally hard to suck in the air she needed. Eyes closed, she gradually regained control.
Matt shifted and drew her back against his chest, fully this time, with her head resting on his opposite shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They stayed very much that way until the last encore was over. Then, with reluctance, they got up, gathered their things together and let the leisurely movement of the crowd carry them back the way they’d come.
Matt held the folded blanket under one arm. His other arm was draped over Lauren’s shoulder. She held tightly to the hand that dangled by her collarbone.
They were nearly at the State House before he spoke. “I’ve got to be heading back to Leominster.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning. Early. I have a nine o’clock appointment and probably should have driven out tonight, but I wanted to be with you.”
She nodded, not knowing what else to say.
“I’ll have to be there through Sunday. I’m sorry. It would have been nice to do something together on the weekend.”
“That’s okay. The shop’s open seven days a week. I’ve forgotten what a weekend is.”
