On Love's Own Terms (16 page)

“Doesn’t everybody?” Bonnie released her sister and smoothed the tangled brown hair off her troubled brow. “From my own experience, I know that a wedding license isn’t issued with a gilt-edged guarantee. Mine was just a piece of paper, easily shredded in anger. Yours might prove equally flimsy. Then again, it might wear like pig iron. As trite as it sounds, only time will tell.”

“I always believed that mama and daddy had a happy marriage.” Darlene pulled her knees up under her chin, showing a girlish vulnerability. “I wonder what they did right?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say they communicated—both talking and listening. And they were friends as well as lovers.” Bonnie smiled poignantly. “They never knew it, but one night I sat out on the porch swing watching them play Scrabble on the living room floor. Mama spelled out a word—a dirty one, judging from the look on daddy’s face, and—”

“Mama
did that?” Darlene squeaked. When Bonnie nodded, her eyes sparkled curiously. “What happened next?”

“Daddy jumped to his feet.” Bonnie snapped her fingers. “Then he literally raced mama upstairs to the bedroom. I felt the vibration of the door slamming shut from the porch.”

“Well, what did she spell?” Darlene demanded with a giggle.

“Beats me.” Bonnie shrugged. “I crept in later, but they had kicked the board and scattered most of the tiles as they left the room. The only letters left that even remotely resembled a word spelled ‘snork.”’

They looked at each other and burst into laughter, collapsing backwards into heaps of uncontrolled hilarity.

“Snork!” Darlene hooted, holding her sides as if they hurt.

“I spent a solid week with my nose buried in every dictionary I could find.” Bonnie punctuated the confession with a hiccup.

“And did it really have a definition?” Darlene gasped.

“It’s a snoring sound.” Bonnie chuckled. “For years, whenever I heard a woman complaining because her husband snored, I immediately pictured our straight-laced mother hiking up her skirts and tearing up those stairs, hell-bent for the bedroom.”

When their mirth eventually subsided, they lay still in the grass for a long, peaceful moment. A breeze so soft it might have been a lover’s sigh rustled the leaves overhead, while the waterfall babbled merrily as an innocent child.

“I’m a virgin,” Darlene admitted bluntly. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Crazy?”
Bonnie repeated. She sat up, frankly astonished, and shook her head. “No, it’s wonderful. It’s—it’s incredible.”

“Not according to my girl friends,” Darlene responded tartly.

“Are you sorry that you waited?” Bonnie ventured.

“No.” Darlene grinned mischievously. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that I told my girl friends.”

“I feel rather silly asking you this,” Bonnie began uncertainly, “but do you have any—well, any questions?”

Darlene sat up and gave the matter careful consideration. “Yes, I do have a question.” She scrambled to her feet and brushed off the faded seat of her jeans. “What’s for dinner?”

Relieved beyond words, Bonnie stood and aimed a fond smile in her sister’s direction. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m starved.”

They left the heavily shaded cove and a vermilion dusk flooded the newly shorn meadow. Halfway home they broke into a run, racing each other and shouting “Snork!” at the top of their lungs.

* * * *

“What did you do with the extra fudge?” Luke asked later between lazy kisses on her bare, moonlit breasts.

“I poured it into a plate, cut it into squares and gave it to the kids for a midnight snack.” Bonnie twined her fingers in his sable-thick hair as his mouth left deliciously sweet kisses around each rosy crest. “I still can’t believe that I stirred up a batch-and-a-half.”

He laughed. “Did you see the look on Darlene’s face when she peeked into the pan? Too much!”

She kneaded his shoulder muscles as he slid lower between her shapely ivory thighs. “She said ‘What a waste of sugar,’ and started licking the spoon.”

“Mmm...” He cupped her slender hips in his hands and stole her breath away with his plundering tongue.

Bonnie spiraled wildly with every warm, seductive stroke. She peaked with a sob, and still she yearned for the physical union that would sweep them both away. Luke moved lithely, taking possession as their bodies melded and their spirits fused.

He rocked her slowly, prolonging the tempest that raged inside her. She watched his eyes glaze with pleasure when her hips arched against him, heard her name expelled hoarsely from his lips as breath mingled with breath. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue matching the passionate rhythm of their bodies. Her arms and legs held him tightly, receiving the whole of him and giving all of herself in return.

Time lost its meaning as their storm reached its breaking point. And when at last they were spent, mindless with the wonder of fulfillment, it seemed that the world had surely come to the same shattering end.

* * * *

The stars winked through the window when Bonnie eased out of bed. She tiptoed across the room, casting a moonshadow over Luke’s soundly sleeping frame, then belted her lacy wrapper around her slim waist Glancing back over her shoulder, she opened the door and slipped into the hall. Her bare feet instinctively avoided the floorboards that creaked and the steps that squeaked as she padded stealthily downstairs.

How could she leave him? She picked up her purse and carried it into the kitchen. Removing her leather appointment book, Bonnie studied it carefully in the moonlight spilling across the formica table. A total of four free days in the next two months, she noted with a dismal sigh. It wasn’t going to work out the way he’d planned it. She didn’t want to spend her life making up for any more time than they’d already lost

Her return ticket envelope stuck out of the side pocket, where she’d placed it for safekeeping during her stay. When she reached absently to tuck it deeper, her fingers found the handkerchief that Luke had loaned her the other day. Something borrowed. Someone blue. The idle pun brought a poignant smile to her lips, and she impulsively folded the mascara-stained linen back into her purse. He wouldn’t miss it.

Just how many other times had Luke been there when she’d needed a helping hand? She closed her eyes, recalling a thousand different ways he’d taught her the meaning of trust

And what had he ever asked of her in return? Bonnie’s eyes flew open wide with disbelief, and she felt the monstrous hand of guilt crushing the breath from her body. When Luke had needed her most, she’d failed him. Wrapped her heart in a selfish shroud of sorrow and refused to share his pain. Rather than help him, she’d hurt him worse.

She stood abruptly and the kitchen clock cuckooed three times when she pushed purposefully through the swinging doors. How was it that Mrs. Painter had defined a successful relationship? Each of the partners giving something of themselves in the bargain? Close enough. The stairs had never seemed steeper nor the halls darker. Yet Bonnie’s footsteps quickened with confidence as she neared the bedroom. She gripped the glass doorknob and smiled, coming to terms with her love for Luke.

Chapter 10

Darlene’s wedding day dawned with a beautiful, maidenly blush.

Although Bonnie hadn’t slept a wink after returning to bed, she was the first one up. Wearing a general’s air of authority and a navy terry-cloth jumpsuit that hugged her figure, she began rousing the others. She also came dangerously close to inciting total rebellion.

“Five more minutes in that bathroom, Dave, and you can register it as your new voting address.”

“If you’ve really outgrown your wedding gown, Darlene, fifty sit-ups this morning won’t do your waistline a damn bit of good.”

“Don’t push your luck, Luke. Another pinch like that last one and—ouch! I’m warning you, Luke…”

When her sleep-tousled and slightly hostile crew finally gathered in the hallway she herded them downstairs, issuing orders every step of the way. “Coffee and toast for breakfast, then it’s everybody into the act.” She synchronized her watch with the kitchen clock. “Our guests should start arriving in four hours flat”

“Four hours!” Darlene gasped, her eyes widening with alarm. She stirred an extra spoonful of sugar into her coffee cup. “How on earth will we get it all done, plus make ourselves presentable in four hours?”

“I’ll bet our favorite drill sergeant already has the schedule figured out down to the second,” Luke teased. He stretched, leisurely defying the brisk pace she was attempting to set. “In fact, I’d stake my skyscraper on it.”

Bonnie’s heart somersaulted and her glance skipped nervously around the sunlit kitchen, avoiding contact with his good-natured gaze. If he thought she sounded organized right now, just wait until he heard the details of that other timetable she’d devised!

“Can somebody press this shirt collar so it lies flat?” Dave set the iron aside and heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I just showed you how to do that last month,” Darlene reminded him, crunching off a corner of her generously buttered toast.

“I forgot,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, holding up the scorched and mangled material. “Maybe I’d better start over. I’ll run downstairs and throw it into the washing machine.”

“Low suds,” Darlene instructed between bites, “and a little bleach.”

“Far be it from me to interrupt domestic democracy in the making,” Luke said, “but why don’t you just borrow one of my shirts?”

Judging from the expression on Dave’s face, it was the best idea that he’d heard in a month of Sundays.

“They’re in the hall closet,” Luke directed. “Take your pick.”

“We’ll drop it by the laundry when he’s done with it,” Darlene promised as she stood and followed her soon-to-be husband through the swinging doors.

Bonnie dusted her hands with flour and began shaping her yeast-rich dough into rolls. “I think I’ll buy Dave a dozen permanent press shirts and tell Darlene that they’re
her
wedding present, too.”

Luke stood behind her and fit his lean male length against her softly rounded bottom and sleek legs. His arms easily circled her slender waist, and he interfered with her breathing ability when he nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her earlobe. “All
I
want for a wedding present is—”

“We’ve got a problem, folks,” Darlene announced dramatically.

Dave trailed along behind her, the sleeves of Luke’s shirt dangling a good two inches below his hands. “I tried it on for size and—”

“What’s burning?” Bonnie demanded, an acrid smell suddenly searing her nostrils.

“My shirt!” Dave yelped. He dashed across the kitchen and snatched the smoking wad off the board, where he’d dropped it too close to the hot iron. “My best shirt,” he groaned. “It’s ruined.”

“No wedding is complete without at least one catastrophe,” Bonnie consoled. She pointed a doughy finger at Darlene. “Run upstairs and find a needle and a spool of white thread. When it’s time to dress, we’ll tack up the sleeves of the borrowed shirt, and nobody will ever know the difference.”

She arched an eyebrow at Dave, who was still mourning his charred shirt. “Go hang the one you’re wearing in the closet before something happens to
it,
and toss the one you’re holding into the rag bag.”

They both scampered off to do exactly as she’d directed, no questions asked. Bonnie turned, flush with success, and started to give Luke an assignment.

“A cool head and a warm body,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms again. “What a combination.”

She tipped her head back and met his admiring gaze. “It’s called the art of survival, actually. Any caterer worth her salt learns quickly that—” Bonnie felt her zipper sliding open and looked down in surprise at the front of her jumpsuit. “What in the name of blue blazes are you doing?”

“Well, you got out of bed and into your clothes so fast this morning, I didn’t have a chance to...” His words were muffled softly then in the lush spill of her breasts as he freed them from the terry cloth.

It was totally insane, standing there unzipped in broad daylight, but she reveled in every crazy second. Bonnie curled her toes as wildfire swooped through her veins, and arched closer still to his hard body as spears of pleasure pierced her nerve endings. Needing him nearer yet, she cradled his head between her hands and… her hands!

She quickly pulled them away, laughing at the sticky palm prints she’d left. “Don’t look now but you just went cauliflower ears one better.”

He raised his head, his smile as warm as his tongue had been against her skin. “Let’s set a date,” he suggested in a husky voice. “We’ll announce it this afternoon while our families and friends are here.”

Bonnie’s thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds in a sudden puff of wind. This was neither the time nor the place to spring her surprise on him. She’d wanted to wait until they were alone tonight, knowing it would take a while to convince him that her idea made more sense than his....

Regret shadowed Luke’s chiseled features as the silence spun out. “You’ve changed your mind.”

“Darn it, I didn’t even
make up
my mind until three o’clock this morning!” She stamped her foot, frustrated by the unexpected turn of events.

“What?” He drew back as if she’d slapped him.

Bonnie spun away and rezipped the front of her jumpsuit, piqued that they’d taken such a foolish, adolescent risk. “I love you, Luke, and I do want to marry you. But I don’t want to be a part-time wife.”

“Because you don’t trust me,” he concluded dully.

“Because I don’t trust
myself,”
she corrected in a soft voice.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His tone echoed his confusion. “I thought we’d already settled—”

Bonnie shook her head, silencing him. She gripped the edge of the flour-coated countertop, groping for the words that would best clarify her concerns. Her thoughts didn’t gel, however, until her hands were washed and busy again creating cloverleaf rolls from the shapeless lump of dough.

“For reasons I can’t even explain, I never doubted myself professionally.” Her lips curved in a self-mocking smile. “It may sound brash, but it’s true. When I climbed off that bus in New York City seven years ago, I just knew that with a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck, I’d eventually have half of New York eating out of my hand.”