Father Of The Brat (18 page)

She cupped her palm over his nape and pulled his forehead to hers. “And, in a way, the two of us are a lot alike now. We’ve both seen more of the world than we’d care to see. We both condemn it. And we’re both still stupid enough to think we can make a difference.”

“We already have made a difference,” Carver pointed out. “In one life, anyway—Rachel’s. She came to us an insecure, unstructured, undisciplined little brat. Now look at
her—she’s playing matchmaker to a couple of old fools. We only have ourselves to blame for getting stranded tonight. We’re the ones who made Rachel realize that we do in fact care about her. As a result, she’s learning to care about us.”

“Maybe she sees something we don’t,” Maddy said.

“Speak for yourself. I see plenty.”

Maddy smiled. “Rachel can be our reminder that you and I—when we work together—can make a difference somewhere. Her life ahead holds promise now, instead of a big question mark, which is all she had before. Because of you and me, Rachel’s going to have a happy ending.”

Carver smiled back. “Why should Rachel be the only one?”

And with that he leaned in again, touching his mouth to Maddy’s only long enough to stir her into agitation.

“I love you, Maddy,” he said when he pulled away. “And have for more than twenty years. Tell me you love me, too.”

“I love you, too.”

Carver was surprised that she would reassure him so readily. Not that he hadn’t been confident all along of Maddy’s feelings for him. He’d just been expecting her to fight them a little bit longer. “You do?” he said.

She nodded. “I suppose, in a way, I’ve loved you for twenty years, too. Certainly no other man has made me feel the things you do.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, yeah? Like what? Feel free to give me specific examples.”

She smiled. “Oh, like…infuriated…ticked off…exasperated…”

He kissed her briefly before adding, “Crazy with desire…yearning for more…”

“Fed up…confounded…thoroughly confused—”

“Out of your head in love,” he concluded.

She nodded. “Out of my head in love.”

“So, what are we going to do about that?”

“Try to affect some change?” she asked.

He shook his head. “A change of clothes maybe…Although I kind of like you in all that pink lacy stuff. Makes you look like a big puff of cotton candy.”

“Oh, Carver, please.”

“Still, I am going to have to find out where my daughter’s been getting some of her ideas lately. I’ve been wondering about all those
Sassy
magazines I’ve seen lying around the apartment. Whose idea was it anyway to name some magazine for girls
Sassy?
I don’t think it’s good for prepubescent girls to be sassy, do you? It’s bad enough when women are sassy.”

“Carver?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and quit being so sassy.”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like to get out of this cotton candy suit. I feel like Frederick’s of Hollywood Barbie in this thing.”

“Then by all means, allow me to assist you.”

He started by tucking his fingers beneath the sash of her robe, deftly unraveling the loose knot before curving his palms over her shoulders and skimming the soft fabric down her arms. Maddy felt a chill kiss of air ripple across her bare skin, only to be warmed by Carver’s lips following in its wake. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her ear, then dipped his head lower, to the soft hollow at the base of her throat. She curled her fingers over his shoulders, pushing away his robe, too, so that she could explore him as intimately.

He made her feel warm and wanton and wonderful. His skin beneath her fingertips came alive everywhere she touched him. Muscle and sinew seemed to dance in the firelight, bunching and relaxing like satin-clad, molten steel. Maddy tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him nearer, opening her mouth over his throat to taste the salty sultriness of him, raking her flat palm down his back to urge him closer still.

Behind them, the fire leapt and snapped like a living thing, its heat enveloping the lovers in a blanket of golden
light. Carver hooked his fingers beneath the straps of Maddy’s gown and pulled them from her shoulders, and the confection of fabric pooled around her waist. He cupped his palms over both her breasts, flexing his fingers until his thumbs drew erratic circles over the dusky peaks. But his gaze never left hers, as if her eyes might reveal the secrets of the universe.

Maddy reached out to him, curling her fingers behind his nape, and pulled him down to her breasts. Immediately, Carver lifted one to his mouth, tasting her over and over, until she feared he would consume her whole. She tipped her head back in surrender, watching the play of light and shadow on the ceiling, falling deeper and deeper into the erotic spell that he cast. No one had ever made her feel the way Carver did, she thought vaguely. And no one ever would again.

She lost herself to him after that, surrendering that part of herself responsible for coherence, yielding utterly to her desires. She wanted to forget who she was, where she was, everything about her life. She wanted to make love with Carver until the sun dared to make an appearance again. She wanted the night to go on forever. She wanted…so much. So many things. She wanted to hold him forever.

He continued to trail feathery kisses over her breasts as he gently pushed her backward, cradling her head in one hand, her sleek derriere in the other. Side by side, they explored each other more adventurously, their legs and arms a tangle, their mouths fused in a passion that built gradually into frenzy. Maddy nudged her hand below the waistband of his boxers, cupping her hand possessively over his taut buttocks before pushing the garment away completely. His calves and thighs were hard and hot as she raked her fingers back up along their length, just as she knew the rest of him would be.

She bent to kiss his ribs one by one, tracing with her tongue the rigid hills and valleys of muscle that decorated his abdomen. As she explored him, Carver took advantage of
her position to push the rest of her clothing from her body. Then they lay naked, gazing at each other in the firelight, smiling, caressing, and feeling very, very warm.

Wordlessly, Carver reached for Maddy, lowering her to the rug beneath him, draping his body over hers. The weight and heat of him sinking into her torso and between her legs made her feel as though she were being welcomed home. But as quickly as the satisfied sensation settled inside her, it began to shatter. Because Carver traced an idle finger along her hip, skimming it over the graceful curves of her fanny before dipping between her thighs.

“Oh,” she murmured softly. “Oh, Carver.”

Without preamble, he stroked her soft folds once and entered her, foraging to make way for a more thorough exploration. Maddy arched her back toward him, inviting him to investigate more completely, and Carver accommodated her request. Just as she felt herself hovering at the apex of completion, he shifted himself slightly, and a more demanding part of him joined with her. He entered her slowly, deeply, and with much deliberation. And then, with a fervent, unfocused, almost uncontrolled fury, he drove her to the brink of insanity.

The flame and heat of the fire in the fireplace whispered into nothingness compared to the conflagration raging inside Maddy. Carver, too, seemed fueled by their union, and his flesh felt searing beneath her fingertips. Together, they ignited, together they burned. Together, they became incandescent. Then, in an explosive burst of white-hot combustion, they became one. And somehow, vaguely, deep inside Maddy’s soul, she knew she would never be separate from Carver again.

He cried out as they climaxed together, words of passion, words of love. Maddy wanted to say the words back to him, wanted to tell him she loved him, too. But something inside her silenced her. She was too weak, she decided, too spent and exhausted to be able to do anything but feel. She
loved Carver, of that there was no doubt. Yet for some reason, she couldn’t tell him so.

Instead, she splayed her hands open over his slick, warm back, softly tracing his spine and rib cage. She kissed his neck, his ear, his cheek. She asked him if he was all right and felt him nod his response. She nodded, too. But somehow, she knew she wasn’t all right. There was something else, she recalled in a fuzzy, ill-defined memory. Something the two of them hadn’t settled. She just couldn’t quite remember what it was. And at the moment, she had to confess, she really didn’t care.

She turned her face to his and kissed him hard, then felt him swell to life inside her again. She smiled at him. He smiled back. And with a few deceptively calm touches, they roused the inferno again.

Tomorrow, Maddy thought as she rolled Carver to his back and straddled him. She would worry about it tomorrow. Cognitive thought had no place in what she wanted to do to him now. She reached for the part of him that had given her so much pleasure only moments ago. Tomorrow would be soon enough to think.

I
t wasn’t a door slamming that awoke Carver this time, but rather the soft, rapid brush of knuckles on the door. When he first opened his eyes, he wasn’t sure whether he’d heard anything at all. Then he turned his head toward the sound and saw a slip of paper scooting beneath the door. The gray light in the room told him it was still quite early, and the rain spattering quietly against the windows told him it was still quite cloudy. The previous evening’s fire smoldered in the fireplace, but it scarcely provided enough warmth for the room. He snuggled closer to Maddy, who continued to sleep peacefully beside him.

She smelled wonderful, he thought as he nuzzled the soft skin of her neck. Smoky and womanly and sweet. She moaned quietly when he lingered his kisses at her jaw, then turned her body more fully into his. He pressed his mouth to hers before reluctantly pushing himself away.

“Where are you going?” she murmured as he padded his
way naked across the room. She squinted at the clock. “What time is it?”

He bent to retrieve the scrap of paper beneath the door, but in the dim light couldn’t quite make out what it said. So he returned to bed, kissed Maddy again, and switched on a lamp beside them.

“It’s just past six,” he told her as he scanned the note from his daughter. “According to this missive from Rachel, it’s time for us to be getting up. She’s planning on joining us for breakfast in fifteen minutes.”

A quick knock at the door startled them both. “Or less,” he amended.

“Hey, you guys,” Rachel called from the other side, “it’s me. Wake up. Let’s eat.”

“Uh, Rachel,” Carver called back, noting not quite from the corner of his eye how far the sheet had fallen from Maddy’s shoulders when she’d pushed herself up from the bed. “Can’t this wait awhile? It’s awfully early.” He touched his finger to Maddy’s breast to draw an idle circle, and she sighed. “How about if we meet you and Lanette in the dining room at, oh, say…ten?”

“Can’t,” Rachel told them. “Lanette’s mom already picked her up, and I have basketball practice at nine. Remember how happy you were when I made the team? You don’t want me to tick off Coach Carmichael, do you?”

“Oh, Carver,” Maddy moaned softly beside him, her voice scarcely audible. “You have to stop that immediately or Rachel’s going to hear something she really shouldn’t.”

By now he had completely covered her breast with his hand and was urging it toward his mouth. Rachel’s announcement and Maddy’s softly uttered plea stopped him cold, however. Because slowly, very slowly, he realized that if he kept this up, he would be making love to Maddy while his twelve-year-old daughter listened in.

“Carver? Maddy?” Rachel called from the other side of the door. She jiggled the doorknob meaningfully. “Come on, open up. I don’t have that much time.”

He scrambled from beneath the covers and prowled frantically around the room for his clothes. Maddy seemed to sense his urgency, because she, too, sprang from bed and raced to the bathroom to retrieve her clothes of the previous evening. Carver’s jeans and sweater were still damp and cold, but he struggled into them anyway. All the while, Rachel’s knocking and pleas for them to open the door sounded in his ears. But there was no way he was going anywhere near that door until they had all their clothes in place. One morning-after run-in with his daughter had already been one too many.

“Will you guys hurry up?” Rachel demanded. “Come on. I mean, hey, it’s not like I don’t know what you’ve been doing in there all night, anyway.”

Carver’s ears pricked up at that, but he said nothing.

“I know what happens when a man and woman fall in love,” Rachel added. “I know all about what they do after that.”

Carver’s struggles ceased immediately. Rachel knew what happened when a man and woman fell in love? he repeated to himself. She knew all about the mechanics of sex? But she was only twelve years old. How could she know all about that?

He glanced quickly at Maddy to make sure she was all buttoned up, and found her smoothing the worst of the mountains and valleys out of the sheets. Satisfied that the two of them had reasonably hidden any vestige of their previous night’s adventures, Carver snatched open the door. Rachel stood on the other side, wearing a plaid pleated skirt and black T-shirt, black tights, and huge, clunky black boots. She was also wearing a big grin. Okay, so maybe she still didn’t dress the way he remembered twelve-year-olds from his time dressing, he thought, but she didn’t look like a bum anymore, either. Not like the bums he knew, anyway.

“Just what the he…” He sighed and tried again. “Just what on earth do you know about…about…about what happens to a man and a woman when they fall in love?”

Rachel rolled her eyes at him in exactly the same way she had the first day he had met her. This time, however, her expression seemed to indicate that she didn’t think him a moron so much as she did hopelessly naive.

“They get married,” she said as she pushed past him into the room. “What else? Hi, Maddy.”

“Hello, Rachel,” Maddy replied automatically. But her gaze was fastened on Carver.

“So, do you have the wedding plans all made out yet or not?” Rachel asked.

Carver continued to look at Maddy, who continued to gaze right back at him.

“Uh, actually, Rachel…” he began. But he never made it any further.

“I want to be a junior bridesmaid,” Rachel interrupted him.
“Sassy
says you can do that when you’re twelve. You can be a junior bridesmaid. I know a dress I like. It’s hot pink taffeta. And it’s only 350 bucks. Pretty cool, huh?”

Carver didn’t know what to contradict first. That he and Maddy hadn’t made a single wedding plan or that there was no way on God’s green earth that he was buying his daughter a dress that was that expensive.

“Uh, actually, Rachel,” he tried again, “Maddy and I haven’t, um…” He looked at Maddy again. “Have we?” he asked her a little uncertainly.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Have we what?” she asked.

“Well, have you or haven’t you?” Rachel demanded.

Carver smiled before turning his attention to his daughter again. “We haven’t discussed the wedding plans yet.”

Rachel spat out a sound of incredulous disgust. “What? No wedding plans yet? Then what were you doing all night? Why do you think I got you guys here in the first place?” She went to the antique desk in the corner and pulled a pen
and sheaf of stationery from the drawer. “We have to work fast. I’m starving, and this place is supposed to have killer Belgian waffles. Okay, Maddy, what color dress are you going to wear? White?”

“I…I…I…” Maddy’s voice died off in a tremble. Her legs crumpled beneath her and she dropped to sit on the bed.

Rachel looked at her curiously. “What’s the matter? You don’t like white?”

“I…it’s just that…” She sighed, searched Carver’s face again in a silent bid for help, and shook her head.

“Maddy’s been married before,” Carver told his daughter, still grinning. “So she probably wants to avoid white.”

Rachel raised a hand palm up. “Say no more. Not to worry. Ivory will look better with your complexion anyway.”

“Carver, we have to talk,” Maddy said softly.

He nodded before turning to Rachel. “Could you just give us about ten minutes, kiddo?”

“But—”

He took Rachel’s hand and tugged her up from her seat at the desk, then gently cajoled her toward the door. “Why don’t you go ahead and order some killer waffles for all of us, and Maddy and I will be right down?”

“But—”

“We just have a couple more things to iron out with the wedding plans, that’s all.”

Rachel made a face at both of them. “It takes you guys forever, doesn’t it?”

Carver nodded. “Yeah. We’re not quite as quick as we were when we were kids.”

Rachel exited, pulling the door closed behind her, mumbling something about how that was the case with most grown-ups these days.

When Carver turned around, it was to find Maddy still seated on the bed looking haunted and fearful and lonely.

“What?” he asked as he neared her. He sat on the bed beside her, taking her cold hands in his. “What’s wrong?”

“Carver, I can’t marry you,” she told him.

“What do you mean you can’t marry me? Why not?”

She laughed softly, sounding very sad. “Well, for one thing, you haven’t asked me.”

He smacked his forehead at the oversight. “Sorry. Okay, Maddy, will you marry me?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He told himself the galloping roar in his brain was the result of something harmless—like a busted artery or something—and nothing more. A couple of deep breaths and he’d be just fine. But after a couple of deep breaths, Maddy was still looking stricken and hopeless, and Carver didn’t feel better at all.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated. “Why won’t you marry me?”

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard before lifting it to her lips. She kissed his palm softly, wove her fingers with his, then lowered their hands and pressed them over her flat belly.

“Because I’m empty,” she told him. “I can’t give you that family you want.”

He shook his head at her as if she were the most dense creature he’d ever had the misfortune to meet. “Empty?” he repeated incredulously. “Maddy, you have more inside you than any human being I’ve ever met. More goodness, more kindness, more concern, more consideration, more hope, more love. If you were any fuller,” he added with a chuckle, “there wouldn’t be any room for anyone else in there. And I’m hoping you’ll make room for someone else. Two someone elses. Me and Rachel.

“You
are
the family I want,” he told her. “Don’t you see? You and Rachel. The three of us make a good team. A good family. It’s all I’ll ever need. I’m hoping it’s all you’ll ever need, too.”

She shook her head doubtfully. “You say it’s enough now, but—”

“I say that now because it’s true. What you and I have together feels good. It feels right. I can’t imagine anything that would make it better, including children.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she still gripped his hand tightly in hers, as if she were reluctant to let him go.

He lifted his free hand to her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face. “Look, I know your first husband told you the same thing, but having more children isn’t that important to me. Not nearly as important as you are. I don’t know what to say to convince you of that. All I can say is…look what we have. Think about how we make each other feel. Remember how neither of us has felt quite complete in the years that we’ve been apart.”

He tipped his head to hers. “I love you, Maddy. That’s all there is to it. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. If you’ll have me and Rachel. I know we’re not the biggest prize in the world, but we love you. Just the way you are.”

Maddy tangled her fingers in his hair and laughed. “As crazy as it sounds, I believe you. Don’t ask me why, but I think you mean it when you say children aren’t that big a deal for you.” She kissed him softly and pulled briefly away. “And suddenly, for some reason, they’re not that big a deal for me, either. Having you back…finding you and Rachel…It makes me feel full somehow. Complete. Satisfied.” She kissed him again. “I’ve missed you all these years.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too.”

They sat side by side, studying each other for some time before Carver broke the silence.

“So,” he began slowly, softly, “you want to get married or what?”

Maddy grinned at him. “I suppose it would break Rachel’s heart if she didn’t get to plan our wedding.”

“It would break mine, too.”

“Then I guess that settles it.”

“Good.” He stood and tugged her up from the bed and into his arms. “What say we seal the deal over waffles? And maybe bacon and eggs, too. With all due respect to Rachel’s kinder, gentler vegetarian life-style, I’d love to sink my teeth into something more substantial.”

“Sounds good,” Maddy agreed. “I’m starving.”

“Really? Are you honestly going to eat something? Or are you just going to push your food around on the plate like you usually do?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m planning to put away three or four waffles, for starters. I’ve never been hungrier in my life.” She tightened her fingers with his. “And that’s only one appetite I have in mind to satisfy this morning.” She leaned over to nibble his ear before whispering into it, “How long does Rachel’s basketball practice usually last?”

Together, they crossed the room and opened the door, only to find Rachel on the other side, leaning against the doorjamb, shamelessly eavesdropping. “There’s just one more thing I want to know,” she told Maddy when she was discovered. “Are you going to change your name when you get married?”

Rachel’s forwardness didn’t surprise Maddy nearly as much as the question itself did. “I…I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. I’m certainly not M. H. Garrett, jaded caseworker, anymore, thanks to you two.” She gave Carver’s hand another squeeze and pulled him closer. “But I’ll never be Maddy Saunders again, either.”

“Then be Maddy Venner,” Rachel told her with a shrug.

She smiled. “That has a nice ring to it. Okay. I’ll change my name to Venner.”

Rachel nodded her approval. “Good. So will I.”

Carver smiled, too, feeling a warm flush of love and pride wash over him. He brushed his fingertips briefly across his daughter’s cheek. “Whatever you want, kiddo. Whatever you want.”

“Then I can get my nose pierced, too?” she asked as he locked the door behind them.

“Except for that.”

“But, Carver…”

“Don’t you ‘But, Carver’ me, kid. I’m not going to fall for it.”

Rachel tried a new approach. “But, Daddy…”

He smiled. “You’re getting closer. But it’s still no.”

“It’s not like I’m getting a tattoo, you know,” Rachel pointed out. “Although Lanette’s mom has a great one on her ankle, a long-stemmed rose.”

“No, Rachel.”

“But, Daddy…”

“I said, no.”

Rachel turned to Maddy with a smile. “Mom?” she asked. “What do you think?”

Maddy eyed them both warily. “I think it’s going to take a while to get used to this family.”