Almost Forever (35 page)

She wanted to see him, too, she realized. So she pulled at his clothes. At first, he tried to ignore her urging, caught up in his exploration of her as he was. But finally, he gave in. He stood and removed his jeans and his T-shirt, every last stitch, tossing them away as if he couldn't get free of them fast enough.

Andie sighed when she saw him, naked as she was at last. She smiled and held out her arms.

He needed no more encouragement. He came down to her. He kissed her breasts, suckling at them and teasing them lightly with his teeth, so that she wiggled and groaned and heard herself crying, “Yes…”

And then he kissed her belly and stroked it with his hand as well. She reveled in that. It felt so good, so warm and good.

And then he kissed her lower still. She gasped a little, when he parted her, right there on that couch in the dazzling light of day. But she didn't protest. How could she protest such wonder, such searing, glorious pleasure?

His tongue was there, tasting her. She moved against it, tossing her head on the throw pillows.

Her climax was swift and all-encompassing. And as soon as it took her, he rose above her, sliding into her with no other prelude, so that one minute she was empty and the next she was filled.

It seemed she reached consummation again then, immediately, as he moved in and out of her, slowly and deliberately, gentle yet demanding, just like the night before. She held on to him, raising herself to him, offering all that she was.

It went on and on. As before, it was so marvelous. How had she lived so long without this? She didn't know.

When his own culmination came, Andie was right there with him, falling off the edge of the universe all over again. They cried out at the same time.

Then they rested, all tangled up on the couch together, so that it was hard to tell where her body ended and his began.

Lying there, her neck a little cramped and her left leg asleep, Andie felt absolutely marvelous. She stroked Clay's shoulders and back with the hand he wasn't lying on. His skin was moist. As it began to cool, she felt the goose bumps break out on him. Or was it on her?

He murmured, “It's too cold to lie here naked. Come on.”
He rose, reaching for her hand. She stared up at him, thinking how great it was just to look at him. “Don't look at me like that,” he commanded, “or we'll never get to Tahoe.”

 

They showered together, probably an error in judgment as it led to more lovemaking—and a later start. When they were finally dressed, Clay made some calls and managed to get them a nice room in a good hotel-casino. And then he threw a few things in a bag.

Next, they went to Andie's so she could pack.

Andie had barely spread her suitcase open on the bed in her room when the phone rang. Clay ordered her not to answer it, but she did, anyway.

“Well, there you are,” groused Ruth Ann. “I called twice last night. I was getting worried.”

Clay was frowning at her. “Who is it?”

Andie whispered, “Ruth Ann.” Clay rolled his eyes.

“Hey? You still there?” Ruth Ann demanded.

Andie spoke into the phone. “I'm here.”

Ruth Ann grunted. “And where were you last night?”

“I was…busy.”

“Gotcha. But that wasn't the question.”

Andie muttered her friend's name warningly.

Ruth Ann, as usual, refused to take the hint. “What were you
busy
doing?”

Andie cast about for a good answer. But she took too long.

“Oh, sweet Saint Christopher,” Ruth Ann declared. “I know. I can smell it. You've been with Clay.”

“Look, Ruth Ann—”

“He's there now, right?”

“Ruth Ann, I—”

“Right?”

“Oh, all right. Yes.”

Clay mouthed “Hurry up” at her. Andie signaled she was doing her best. Clay shook his head and then left the room.

Ruth Ann demanded, “It was great, wasn't it?”

Andie sank to the side of the bed. “Is nothing private in this world?”

“Not with me around. Well. Wasn't it?”

“Ruthie.”

“Well?”

Andie couldn't suppress a giggle. “Yes.”

Ruth Ann made a crowing sound. “I knew it, I knew it. Are you going to marry him?”

“Yes.”

“Saint Francis! When?”

“Today.”

“Hooray! Although I suppose this means I'm going to have to kiss off my dearest dream.”

“What dream is that?”

“Being your matron of honor, you dolt.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“But it's okay. The dress always costs an arm and a leg, anyway. I'll save some bucks. I've got two sets of braces to pay for, after all.”

“How sensitively put.”

“Want me to be there?”

“I do…”

“But then again, you don't. Hey. It's okay. This is a special situation, I know. Where are you going?”

Andie gave her the phone number of their hotel in Tahoe. “We haven't told the folks yet.”

“I understand.”

“If they get worried and call you, just give them that number. Okay?”

“You bet. And wait. One more thing.”

“What?”

“Does he know? Did you tell him about you know who?”

“I didn't have to tell him.”

“Huh?”

“He already knew.”

Ruth Ann was calling on more saints as Andie hung up the phone.

“What did you tell her?”

Andie looked up to find Clay standing in the doorway. She gave a rueful shrug. “Not much. Most of it she figured out on her own. She knows we're getting married today. And I gave her a phone number. In case our folks call her.”

“That's fine.” His look said he wanted to say more.

“What? What is it?”

“She knows. About Jeff?”

“Yes. But she'll never tell anyone.”

Clay made a low sound—part groan, part sigh. “I know. I grew up with Ruth Ann, too, after all. Remember that time your dad grounded you for a month for burning your report card?”

“I remember,” Andie admitted with a sigh.

“You were so outraged at the unfairness of the punishment that you ran away.”

“Yes, it's true. I did.”

“Ruth Ann knew where you were.”

“Yes, but I'd sworn her to secrecy. She never talked, did she?”

“No. Eventually, you came home on your own, as I remember it.”

“You remember right. As I said, she never tells my secrets. And I never tell hers.”

Clay was silent. Andie understood the silence when he finally spoke.

“When the baby's born, my name goes in the space where it says
father of child.
”

Andie swallowed. “Okay.”

“Just so you know.” Suddenly, his voice was brisk. “Now get packing, will you?”

“Yes, sir!”

Andie packed quickly. They were finally ready to leave around three. The ride to Tahoe was uneventful and they managed to get checked into their hotel by five that night.

Then they went looking for a license. In Douglas County, they discovered, the county clerk kept long hours for the sake of all the couples who wanted to get married the quick and easy way. By seven they had the license in hand.

After that, they did some talking. Arguing, actually. Clay wanted to get to a chapel right away. Andie wanted dinner. Finally, Clay gave in. They decided to go back to the hotel and enjoy the remains of their one evening away. They ate in the hotel's best restaurant.

Then they went to their room, since that was where they really wanted to be, anyway. Andie reached out her arms to Clay. Getting married was the last thing on her mind.

But the next morning, when Andie would have lazed in bed awhile, Clay was up and eager to find a chapel and say their vows. Andie groused a little. He told her they had to get the job done.

And then she laughed at him for being so serious and calling marrying her a “job.” He glowered at her for a moment. And then he was laughing, too.

She loved the sound of his laughter. Generally, Clay was not a laughing man. She thought briefly, with that now-familiar stab of regret, of Jeff Kirkland. Jeff was the one who could make Clay laugh like that.

But now she, Andie, was making him laugh. The thought filled her with hope for the future. Maybe her doubts were groundless, after all.

Clay told her she looked misty-eyed.

Andie replied that she had a right to be misty-eyed. It was her wedding day.

“Fine. Be misty-eyed. And get in that shower. I've ordered room service. You've got an hour to eat and get ready. Then we're gone.”

“An hour!” She gave a shriek of feminine outrage. “To get ready for my
wedding?
”

“All right, don't have a coronary. You can have an hour and a half.”

 

They bought two plain gold bands right there in the chapel. The vows were quick and simple. Andie recited them with feeling, looking into Clay's eyes. Clay said his part in a firm voice. He promised to love, honor and cherish Andie. And he didn't even stumble over that forbidden word,
love.

When they left the chapel, it was nearly noon. Andie was hungry.

“Hardly news,” Clay remarked dryly, and then put his arm around her and kissed her right there on the sidewalk underneath a fir tree.

They found a coffee shop before they headed home. As soon as her stomach was full, Andie began to fret about the family.

“They're probably worried about us.” Andie poured the last of her hot water over a soggy tea bag. “Now that I think about it, we really should have left a message, called one of them or something, don't you think?”

“And said what?”

She scrunched up her nose at him, since no immediate answer came to mind. If they'd told the truth, half the family would have followed them up here to witness the event. And if they'd lied, Andie would have felt like a louse.

“Andie, they probably don't even know we're gone. And
we'll be home soon, long before they have a chance to start worrying.”

“I've got a great idea.” Andie pressed on the tea bag with her spoon, to get whatever was left in it out. “Let's call them.”

“What?”

“Let's call them.” She set the spoon aside and sipped the lukewarm brew. “We can call them from here. You call your folks and I'll call mine. Then by the time we get home, they'll already have been mad at us for not telling them and they'll be on to the good part.”

“The good part?” Clay looked doubtful.

Andie pushed her cup away. “You know, where they smile and exchange significant looks and say they're sure we'll be happy together. What they'll really be thinking, of course, is that it's about time. But they would never, ever say such a thing. Well, except for Granny Sid. She might say it.”

Clay chuckled. “Yeah. She just might.”

With her finger, Andie traced a jagged heart that someone had carved into the tabletop. “I love them. I really do.”

“Then why the long face?”

“Oh, I don't know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Sometimes I just wonder, that's all.”

“What?”

“What it would be like not to have to worry how the family will take it every time I make a major step in my life.” She gave a wry chuckle. “I used to try not to care what they thought, when we were kids.”

“Did you ever.”

“But trying not to care never really worked. In my heart, I still
did
care. And I'd feel awful when Mom looked bewildered at something I'd done and Dad shook his head and said he didn't know what to do with me. Then on top of
feeling awful, I'd have to pretend it didn't matter to me at all. It just wasn't any fun, trying not to care. So I gave it up and just let myself feel wretched when they'd shake their heads over me.”

“Hey.” His voice was teasing.

She looked up from the raggedly carved heart. “What?”

“They're going to be happy that we're married. I know they are.”

“Yes, but your mother and my mother are going to be hurt that we didn't tell them first. But you don't have to worry about that.”

“Why not?”

“Because they're not going to be unhappy with you. You're only a man. How could you be expected to know that one way for a girl to really annoy her mother and her aunt is to get married without even telling them, without giving them any chance at all to make a big fuss over the arrangements?
I'm
the one who's supposed to know that.”

Clay just stared at her, flummoxed. “Well, I'm sorry. I guess.”

“Oh, how can you be sorry? It doesn't even make any sense to you.”

“Well, that's true.”

“So don't be sorry.
I'm
not even sorry. After all, I was the one who made the choice not to call them before we left. And I did it knowing that Mom and Aunt Della would be peeved.”

“Well, if you don't want
me
to be sorry, and
you're
not sorry, either, then why are we talking about this?”

“Because I want to call them before we go home. And I want you to understand
why
I want to call them.”

“Well, I still don't understand that.”

“I know. So just let me do it, okay? Just…humor an emotional pregnant lady.”

“Okay. Fine. Do it.”

Andie looked down at the jagged heart again, considering. “Well, maybe calling them wouldn't be such a good idea, after all. Maybe it shows more consideration to tell them face-to-face.”

Clay dared to agree. “I think you're right there.”

“So, okay then, we'll go see them. Yours first and mine second as soon as we get home.”

“Sounds good.”

“Or maybe, we should see
mine
first…”

Clay groaned under his breath and suggested they ought to be on their way.