The Marriage List (12 page)

They arrived at the cabin to find Jenna and
Bill had put out some cheese and crackers and opened a bottle of
wine. A small fire was getting started in the fireplace. They
turned and looked at Carrie and Grey as they walked in the back
door. Jenna's eyes didn't meet Grey's. Grey took a piece of paper
out of his pocket, wrote something on it and walked over to the
fireplace.

"Here it is, The List," he said.

Then he ripped it into pieces and tossed it
into the fire.

"And I forbid anyone in this room from ever
mentioning it again."

Bill poured two more glasses of wine and
handed one to Carrie and one to Grey. Then he raised his glass in a
toast. Jenna joined him.

"I'll drink to that," Bill said, taking a
healthy sip of his wine.

Chapter Thirteen

"When your work schedule calms down, maybe
you can come up to my place for a night," he said, closing the
screen on her fireplace and standing up.

The fire he laid jumped to life as flames
shot up and the small logs began to catch. He watched it and
grinned in satisfaction as he sat down on the sofa. Carrie put down
her glass of cabernet sauvignon and settled her right foot in his
lap. Grey took another sip, returned the glass to the coffee table
and began to massage Carrie's foot. She closed her eyes and sank
down into the sofa resting her head on a red print pillow leaning
against the arm.

"Tough day?"

"Hmm," she said with a nod, "but we always
talk about me. How about your day?"

"A drag. I spend the whole day going over
figures for a new company, a solar farm. It was boring as
hell."

"Are you going to invest in the farm?" She
asked, a small sigh of pleasure slipping out of her mouth as he
kneaded under the ball of her foot.

"I don't know yet. Farms are risky but if
this one could exist only on solar power, it might work."

Carrie picked up her right foot and moved her
left foot into his lap.

"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" He
tried to keep his voice nonchalant.

"Thanksgiving?" she asked her tone weary.

"You know, the holiday that comes every
year…the third Thursday in November?" He teased.

She shot him a dirty look.

"I'm not brain-dead…not yet, anyway. I
usually spend it with my aunt Delia and whatever boyfriend is the
flavor of the month," she said.

"Do you think she'd mind if you spent it with
me and my family?" He kept his tone even, but his pulse was racing,
listening for her response.

Carrie sat up and raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't Jenna say something about
Thanksgiving being a special holiday at your house?"

"All holidays are special with my family…" he
began.

"No, no, I specifically remember her saying
Thanksgiving."

"Well…sort of, maybe. Might be. But it's just
the family."

"This year you want it to be just the family
and me?"

"I'd like that." His hand stopped rubbing and
closed around her small foot.

"Delia's not the overly sentimental type…I
doubt she'd miss me that much and she definitely likes you…hmm,"
Carrie stroked a pretend beard on her chin.

"So that means you'll come," he asked,
eyebrows raised.

"If you want me to, sure," Carrie said,
grinning at him.

"Great! You're coming!" Grey dropped her foot
to the side and pushed up off the sofa, rushing eagerly to the
balcony to make a call.

He kept his voice low as he spoke to his
mother and watched Carrie sink into the sofa and close her
eyes.

"So we're finally going to meet this mystery
woman of yours, eh?" His mother remarked.

"Looks that way. She's coming for
Thanksgiving…"

"Thanksgiving!"

"Yes."

"John! John! Grey's bringing his girl out for
Thanksgiving!" Grey heard his mother speaking to his father on the
side.

"Gotta go, Mom."

"Wonderful, dear. We're so happy she's coming
then."

"Nothing out of the ordinary, okay?" he asked
with a tinge of worry in his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Grey laughed. "All right. I'll be ready for
anything." He said, running his hand through his hair.

He heard his mother chuckle before she hung
up the phone and for a second he wondered if this was the right
move. Hell, what did he know about the right move? He'd never
gotten this close to a woman before and the confident businessman
realized he was navigating uncharted waters…completely out of his
element.

By the time he got back to the sofa, Carrie
was fast asleep. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Undressing her was a treat for him though it didn't appear he'd get
to do much more than enjoy looking at her. She tossed and stretched
but didn't seem to come fully awake. He took off his clothes, too,
and joined her in the bed.

He switched off the light and turned on his
side, slipping his arm over Carrie's naked body and pulling her in
close to him. She sighed and placed her hand over his. He buried
his face in her neck breathing in the faint scent of her lilac
perfume still lingering there and the sweet smell of her skin. He
didn't know what he was supposed to do next. He was flying blind,
letting love lead the way.

His mind wandered to Thanksgiving upstate
with his family and Carrie. He shuddered slightly to think of how
many references to marriage his mother would make in Carrie's
presence, or how his older sister Barbara would trot out every baby
picture she could find of him, especially the most embarrassing
ones. But then there was Jenna. Surely she would make Carrie feel
more comfortable. Grey closed his eyes. He hoped all would go well.
This would be the first test…no actually finding out about the list
was the first test. This was the second. Poor Carrie. He hoped
their love would survive a day with his family as he drifted off to
sleep.

****

Carrie awoke at three a.m. to go to the
bathroom. Feeling wide awake, she slipped on a robe because the
apartment felt cool, and padded into the living room. She perched
by the window to watch the moon. It wasn't a full moon but only
half. Still it shone down on the sleeping City with a silvery white
glow. The moonlight on the bare branches of the trees shaded them,
emphasizing their roundness. It created creepy shadows that could
be providing hiding places for thieves or lovers with nowhere else
to go.

The chill in the apartment penetrated her
thin silk robe so she returned to the warmth of her bed. Grey was
asleep, on his stomach with his arms up around his head. She
slipped in quietly, trying not to jostle the bed and wake him up
but he rolled over on his side anyway, the covers sliding down to
his waist. Lying on her back, Carrie gazed at his face and his
chest in the dim light from streetlights filtering in her window.
His face appeared relaxed and boyish with his hair mussed by sleep,
except for the slight growth of beard on his cheeks belying his
age.
How handsome he is.
His strong chest had a light
coating of sandy colored hair. The feel of it called to her and she
reached out, flattening her hand against him slowly. He barely
moved. She ran her hand ran up and then down his chest as she
enjoyed the feel of his skin and muscle beneath her fingers. A
small sigh escaped her lips.

Grey slung his arm around her, his hand on
her back as she faced him. Carrie rolled over, her back to him,
fitting herself into the curves of his body, snuggling up against
him.

A few unintelligible sounds escaped from his
throat as she took his hand and pulled his arm around her, resting
his hand on her belly. Grey splayed his fingers against her skin
and pulled her up tight against him.

"Cold," he muttered.

"Not anymore," she whispered, feeling the
heat from his body penetrate hers.

Grey moved his hand up slowly across her
ribcage to rest on her breast. A small shiver raced up her
spine.

"Still cold?" he asked, now awake.

"Not cold…"

"More?"

He closed his fingers around her breast and
began a gentle massage. She closed her eyes and let his hand work
its magic on her body. His lips caressed her neck with small
kisses, sending another shiver up her spine. He chuckled.

"You're a magician," she whispered.

"Am I?"

His fingers gently tweaked her peak, sending
signals down to her core. She squirmed, wiggling her bottom up
against him and felt his growing arousal.

"You touch me in one place and I feel it in
another."

He laughed softly. Then he glided his hand
slowly down her smooth skin to her thigh.

"You feel soooo good," he whispered.

Carrie rolled over on her back and placed her
hand on his shoulder. He slid his fingers to her inner thigh as she
parted her legs for him. Burying her face in his neck, she opened
her mouth and sucked on his skin gently, caressing it with her
tongue, eliciting a moan from him.

His fingers moved to up into her core. She
groaned and hooked her leg over his hip as heat shot through her
body.

"Oh, God," she moaned, removing her lips from
his skin and throwing her head back against the pillow. In the dim
light she could still see his eyes, staring straight into hers. Her
breath came quickly as desire claimed her.

"I want you," she muttered, her eyes never
leaving his.

She reached down, curling her fingers around
his erection. "Oh, my."

He laughed.

"I guess you want me, too."

"Could say that," he agreed as he brought his
hand around to the back of her thigh and moved it up to her
butt.

"Ready?"

"Been ready…"

Grey chuckled.

Carrie lifted her leg higher, folding it
against his body as his hand pulled her close enough for him to
slide into her. She gasped as he entered her, closing her eyes
again, focusing on the amazing feeling of him inside her.

"Ohhhh…honey," he moaned, holding her tightly
against him.

He started to move in and out of her, slowly
at first.

"Oh, God…Grey…" she groaned.

As she got more excited, he moved faster.
Carrie managed to move her hips with him only slightly as his grip
was tight. Still, pleasure coursed through her veins, growing with
every thrust. As the intensity grew, she panted and her grip on his
shoulder tightened. As the excitement spiraled up, her climax
exploded, tensing every muscle and nerve before releasing bliss all
the way down to her toes. Carrie emitted a stifled cry. Grey pushed
harder. But that didn't last long as he let out a long groan
signaling his release.

They laid in each other's arms. Carrie
reached up to touch Grey's cheek and felt the dampness on his
forehead. He kissed her lightly, his hand brushing back her
hair.

"You beat an alarm clock…hands down."

She laughed. "I bet you say that to all the
girls."

"Never had one wake me up in the middle of
the night to make love before."

"Really?"

"Really. Fantastic," He kissed her again,
then pulled up the sheet and blanket, draping it over her body to
protect her from the cold air in the bedroom.

"That wasn't my intention. I couldn't sleep
but when I saw you lying there so peacefully…I…I…got turned
on."

"Music to my ears. You can wake me up that
way anytime, Honey."

"Feeling sleepy now," she admitted,
yawning.

They cuddled together in spooning
position.

"Sweet dreams, Carrie."

"You, too, Grey."

Chapter Fourteen

Pressure continued to mount during the next
weeks at her job. Late night after late night, corrections,
constant revisions, whole campaigns were scuttled only to be begun
again. She was exhausted, frazzled but also wildly in love. Carrie
never met anyone like Grey and the more her work life deteriorated,
the more she craved his company.

Carrie hustled in early on the Wednesday
before Thanksgiving to see Mr. Goodhue, the president of the
agency, who wanted to meet with her at eight o'clock. She was
nervous because he never wasted time with unimportant meetings or
unimportant people. He had a staff to take care of trivia, so if he
wanted to see her, it must be important.

She came into his office quietly. He looked
up at her, nodded and motioned her to sit down.

"Coffee?"

"Thanks," she said, raising her cup to show
him she brought her own.

"Carrie, I have watched your progress for
three years now and have been very pleased to see you blossom from
the shy, unhappy young woman who started here to a confident,
accomplished writer. Your work on the new business team is
excellent. I think the next piece of business we bring in that you
spear-headed might be your promotion to creative director."

She smiled at him, pleased at the praise, but
noticed he did not smile back. Her stomach sank and her heart rate
increased. Somehow this didn't feel good.

"You're well liked, too. Rosie has been
singing your praises on working with the production
department…and…" he continued.

"Mr. Goodhue, this sounds like either a
eulogy or obituary. Which is it and why am I dead?"

"We're in a difficult situation with Country
Lane Cosmetics," he said, putting up his palm when she tried to
speak.

"I know the account is in jeopardy. This is a
different kind of jeopardy. You know Country Lane got a new
president, one who has his own favorite ad agency he's worked with
for years, right?'

"I've been killing myself working on the
pitch to keep the business."

"You know how many people are involved in
this business, here at the agency, right? How many people would
have to be let go if we lost Country Lane?"

"Plenty."

"Do you know someone named Grey Andrews?" He
asked her, picking up his mug for a sip of coffee.