He scooped her up, planting a noisy kiss on her cheek before sweeping
his free atm around Darren. "Give us a big one," he told Darren, then
staggered as the boy pressed a hard, wet kiss on his chin. Hefting them
both, Brian stepped around the white plastic fences and stubby figures
spread around the floor.
"Farming again?"
"It's Darren's favorite." Bev waited for him to sit, then grinned. Brian
was always at his best in the circle of his family. "I'm afraid you've
just plopped down smack in the manure pile."
"Oh?" He leaned over to pull her against him. "Wouldn't be the first
time I've sat in shit."
"Shit," Darren repeated, his diction perfect.
"Good going," Bev murmured.
Brian only grinned and tickled his son's ribs. "So what's the plan?"
She settled back as Darren wiggled out of Brian's hold to sit in her
lap. "We're plowing under the corn since we've decided to plant
soybeans."
"Very wise. Quite the gentleman farmer, aren't you, old man?" He poked
a finger into Daffen's pudgy stomach. "We'll have to take that trip to
Ireland. Then you can ride on a real tractor."
"Let's go. Let's go." Darren bounced on Bev's lap, chanting his
favorite phrase.
"Darren can't ride on a tractor until he's bigger," Emma said, sedately
folding her hands over her knee.
"Quite right." With a smile, Bev nodded toward Brian. "Just like he
can't use the cricket bat or the bicycle someone bought him."
"Women," Brian said to Darren. "They don't understand macho stuff."
"Pissy," Darren recited, pleased with his new word.
"I beg your pardon?" Brian managed over a laugh.
"Don't ask." After a quick hug, Bev set Darren aside. "Let's clean up
this business so we can go have our tea."
"Excellent idea." Brian sprung up and grabbed Bev's hand. "Emma, you're
in charge, luy. Mum and I have something to do before tea."
"Brian-"
"Miss Wallingsford's just downstairs." He continued to pull Bev from the
room. "Don't forget to wash up."
"Brian, the nursery's in a shambles."
"Emma'll take care of it. She's tidy as a pin." He pulled Bev into the
bedroom. "Besides, she likes to."
"Even so, I-" She caught his hands as he started to tug off her T-shirt.
"Bri, we can't do this now. I've a million things to see to."
"And this is top of the list." He closed his mouth over hers, pleased
when her halfhearted struggles ceased.
"It was top of the list last night," she murmured, running her hands
down to his hips. "And again this morning."
"It's always top of the list." He unhooked her jeans.
It amazed him how small, how firm she was. After two children. No, one
child, he reminded himself He often forgot, perhaps deliberately, that
she hadn't given birth to Emma. No matter how familiar her body became,
touching her like this took him back to their first nights together.