Impulse

by Lass Small

  If they wouldn’t question her, Amy would have liked to just stand around and listen among the guests for the wedding. Their conversations were startling, funny and filled with spicy or shocking remembrances. Nothing and no one was sacred.

  The family really ought to tape their chatter. People and memories didn’t last forever. Rather reluctantly she asked Chas, “Shouldn’t you stay there? Be with them? We shouldn’t just go off and leave everyone.”

  Chas shook his head as he smiled at Amy. “I see them several times a year. I know most of the stories. Tonight before dinner, we’ll be with them at the cocktail gathering in the fountain area. Bart will probably fall in. He nips a bit.”

  “A bit?”

  Chas laughed. “Quite a bit. He’s a drunk. But he is the most loyal man you could ever find. When it comes right down to brass tacks, he’s there...and sober.”

  “We’ve always just depended on ourselves.”

  “We do, too.” Chas watched Amy. “But family support is a great thing.”

  “How about between emergencies?”

  He grinned and ruffled her hair. “You are a treat. I agree with Bart. We should keep you.”

  She was a stickler. “Only through this weekend.”

  He took her hand. “We’ll see.”

  She allowed him to hold her hand, but she began to think she might have to leave secretly. In order to do that, she should be reasonably packed, monitor how much she had in the suite, and be ready to take off on a minute’s notice.

  She’d have to leave a note. What would she say? “Nice knowing you”? That wouldn’t ever convey the magic Chas had allowed her to know. What note could? What words?

  His voice husky, he asked, “Whatever are you thinking that could be so serious on this glorious day?”

  “About last night— with you.”

  “Oh, Amy.” He stopped to put his arms around her and hold her tightly to him. “If you don’t want to be put down right here on the drive, you’ll have to be very careful. You drive me wild!”

  She tilted up her face and teased, “I was thinking how much room you take up. I had to sleep on the very very edge! I’ve never realized what women put up with, sleeping with a man!”

  “But you were warm,” he told the sassy woman. “I woke up with you burrowing against me, and you said, ‘Um, you’re so warm!’” He tried to make his voice sound like hers and failed dismally.

  He looked off into the distance and then around the area as men do. He told her, “If we want to go anywhere, we have to quit talking like this. You bother me. You have to...take it easy with me.”

  He had stressed the words, which were the title of the film on TV the night before, which they hadn’t watched.

  “Do you suppose that movie will be on again tonight?” she asked. “I’d like the chance to see it.”

  “I’ll buy the tape. Eventually we might be able to get past the opening scene and watch it all.”

  “The movie set you off?” she asked with a frown.

  “Something sure as hell did!” He changed the word, “Does. Let’s go back to our place.”

  When she obediently turned back toward the hotel, she commented, “I thought we were going to drive down the coast.”

  Gesturing, he promised earnestly, “It looks just like this. Water, sky, sand, palm trees. No big deal. We could get a covered lounge and lie in the sun and rest up.”

  “I burn.”

  “I know,” he sympathized. “You make me burn, too. You set me on fire.”

  “I believe you have a one-track mind. When I selected you...for this project, I had no idea you were a sex maniac.”

  “I never was before. What do you mean you selected me?”

  “You know. To become...acquainted together.” She blushed.

  “You wanted to meet me?”

  “Let’s feed the gulls.”

  Intrigued, he questioned, “Are you shy with me?”

  “I understand they’ll eat about anything. There’re some kids feeding them from their balcony. Probably their spinach.”

  “Hold still. I have to kiss you.”

  She gasped, “Out here! It’s broad daylight!”

  “Don’t Aaabbotts kiss in the daytime?”

  “You put too many A‘s in it.”

  “That’s how you say it.”

  “Be quiet and kiss me, or were you only threatening?”

  So he showed her right there and then that he was serious. He kissed her for anyone around to see him do that. It didn’t matter to him that everyone would guess.

  All the Cougars knew the two were sharing a suite. No one believed the baloney that there were two sleeping areas.

  * * *

  They wandered around. He took her to a mall and bought her a hat with a rubber band under her chin to guard against the wind.

  They rented poles and bought bait, before they walked out on a fishing pier. In no time at all, Chas caught two fish, which he gave away to a kid about eight years old.

  Amy listened as Chas cautioned the boy to let his mother brag on the catch first, then to tell how he “caught” them.

  The kid laughed with teeth big in his smile.

  Amy contrived great censoring, saying, “You’ve trained the innocent child to lie!”

  Chas smiled and nodded as he shrugged.

  She said, “You’re exactly the kind of man who’ll teach a little innocent babe to do the raspberries with her tongue. And it’ll take her mother a year and a half to break the baby of the habit.”

  He considered the premise with lifted eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah.”

  But it made Amy realize that Chas would be a good father.

  He bought her sunscreen and put it on her face and arms. Then he squatted down and smoothed it on her legs with great care. He did that very slowly.

  “I need to shave my legs.” She was apologetic.

  “I’ll do it for you.” His green eyes looked up at her from where he sat on his heels before her, holding her leg in his hands. “Amy...”

  She smiled down at him.

  He put one knee to the boardwalk, then leaned the side of his head against her stomach as he hugged her, with one big, hard hand at the small of her back and the other arm around her thighs.

  She put her hands into his hair as a strange feeling smothered her chest, for she realized she could love this man.

  He lifted his head, released her and went back to the application of sunscreen to her long legs.

  “Me next!” a throaty female voice demanded.

  “No, me,” said another.

  Chas apparently didn’t hear, but Amy looked indignantly at the two shapeless women in their loose flowered shirts and soft rolled-up trousers.

  The interlopers grinned widely at Amy.

  But she didn’t respond to them for— just beyond those two— there were younger women who had stopped and were watching Chas like buzzards.

  Amy Abbott Allen, the man-izer, bristled and glared. She didn’t show her teeth, but she thought of it.

  Chas simply completed her legs’ sun shield. He rose, surrounded by the cheerful group of watchers. He kissed Amy’s forehead, took her hand and led her off as if he never saw anyone else.

  He was an interesting man. A man. Oh, yes. After her thinking of baring her teeth, she was proud of the fact that she didn’t look back over her shoulder and stick out her tongue.

  She wasn’t sure that not sticking out her tongue was any more adult than not baring her teeth.

  As she contemplated her childish, primitive instincts, it eventually did register that she was allowing Chas to lead her along.

  She was attached to him by his hand, which had captured hers, and she was walking about a pace behind him.

  She considered that behavior. She was a Twenty-first Century Woman, independent and free. She was a man-izer. She was being led along very like a warrior’s slave. She liked it.

  That was sobering.

  In the crowd of spring-break free
d students and families with small children, Amy trailed along behind a Cougar who was breaking trail for her. She looked at him. She trusted him to keep her safe so that she was free to look around and to look at him.

  His shoulders were wide and strong and his body was lean and hard. His torso had practically no bottom at all. He was walking at a reduced stride for her sake.

  He turned his head and looked back around his shoulder and down at her. His eyelashes veiled the green fire in his eyes. He smiled just the littlest bit, and it was as if his tongue had licked her stomach in a big Cougar lap.

  The sensation was such that she took an involuntary breath, as if he was about to submerge her in the pool, except there she was, on dry land.

  Her eyes clung to him. She was suddenly aware her breasts felt heavy and ached oddly, for they needed to be lifted and held in his hands.

  She was very conscious of the insides of her thighs. Unfamiliar muscles clenched, causing goose bumps to ride her spine, straightening it and raising the fine hairs along the way. All that from one of his glances!

  No, there was his strong, hard, square hand holding hers firmly. There was his hard, broad shoulder brushing her cheek. There was the heat of him that rivaled the sun’s and there was the fact that he was alive, there, and with her.

  He looked around, not appearing to notice the women whose eyes lingered on him. He looked at her. She was with him. She was stalking along with a man named Chas Cougar.

  Then into her consciousness a thwarted thought wormed its nasty way. Chas Cougar was a law-abiding man who hated cheats. Although she was with him, it was under false pretenses.

  She’d lied. She’d cheated in opening a wedge into the Cougar clan, and she’d allowed herself to be labeled a cousin.

  With all the feeble protests that she might not be kin, she hadn’t denied it. There was that basic lie about her grandmother’s name being Winsome. She’d allowed the false name to stay there...a lie.

  “What’s wrong?” His low voice was right by her temple.

  She looked up into those green eyes in something like despair.

  “Are you all right?” His voice was sharper, and he stopped to bend down, bringing his head closer so that he could look into her face. His other hand went to her shoulder and he frowned. “What’s the matter?”

  Her lips parted and she replied softly, “I guess I’m just a little tired.”

  “Good.”

  Good? He bought her a hamburger, led her back to their suite, muted the phone and took her to bed. This time in the bedroom. In one bed.

  He moved away her shy, shielding hands and made delicious, possessive, silent, serious love to her, with his hard hands and his hard body. Then he curled her close in his arms and they slept.

  * * *

  Before she ever opened her eyes, she knew he was gone. Her lashes lifted and she confirmed that. He’d left her? She rose and looked in the closet. His clothes were still there. He would come back.

  The relief that washed through her alarmed her almost as much as the panicked thought of his being gone. She could not allow herself to become emotionally entangled with a law-abiding man who despised cheats.

  Now was the time to get her clothes organized for her vanishing act. She was convinced she would have to leave in that way. How could she stand in front of Chas— or lie next to him— and say goodbye? She put her hands in her hair and pulled.

  This affair was dumb. It was an entrapment. She didn’t want to leave, not yet, but would she ever want to leave him?

  In her future affairs she was going to have to be more selective. Did that mean she would now choose second best? Surely not. She’d selected Chas because he was the best.

  Her emotional involvement was probably because she’d been a virgin. There was a saying that women always felt sentimental about their first man. That was probably what was wrong with her. She was being sentimental about Chas.

  She sorted out the clothes she would need for the night’s cocktails and dinner, the next day and the wedding. And what she’d need when she left.

  Amy dressed in a pullover cotton beach cover-up. She took her laundry, the extra clothes and shoes that had gradually found their way from her car to the shared closet. She picked up her card and sneaked out of the room to go to her car.

  She even went around to the beachside elevator, in case Chas should be coming back up to their suite.

  Having stored her burdens in her car, she wandered over the walkways and discovered a hidden stairway in which she could sit alone, unobserved, to figure out how she was going to handle leaving Chas.

  She had barely settled on the step— there in the warmth of the sun— when she heard voices. She shifted, assuming they could come down the steps, but the voices stayed where they were, around the corner of the stairs. The voices were female and they continued their conversation.

  The voices belonged to Connie and Sally.

  Connie asked, “Why did you decide to marry Tad? Is he so different from all the others?”

  “I’ll tell you because of all we’ve been through together,” Sally replied in an almost cynical way. “Last fall, I ran into a nice guy at a party. He was neat. I thought, ‘Wow. All right!’ and began to come on to him. And he said, ‘So you do remember?’

  “But I didn’t. I found out I’d spent a weekend with him! An entire weekend, mostly in bed, and I couldn’t even recall his name!

  “He was offended, but I was appalled! There I’d slept with this guy for a whole weekend, and I didn’t even remember his name.

  “I figured it was time to quit. I’m fond of Tad. He loves me. I’ll be careful of him, and I’ll come to love him. You ought to consider settling down yourself, Connie. The fast track can last too long.”

  Connie’s voice was faint. “I couldn’t find a Tad. No one wants to actually marry me. They’re all like Matt. I now have such a reputation that sleeping with me is like a goal along the way for men making their names as lovers.”

  “Burnout.” Sally’s voice was positive. “Take some time off until it’s interesting again. I believe casual sex is like a drug. Used all the time it gets routine and hasn’t the kick it should. Even druggies have to dry out before they then have another go at it.”

  Sally then advised Connie, “Take it easy for a while and let Matt sweat. It’ll stimulate him, too.

  “Ah, Connie, I’m glad you came down here. It seems appropriate for you to be here with me right now. You were there that first time, too.”

  Connie’s voice was grim. “I’m not going to sleep with Matt.”

  “You don’t want to?”

  “I love him.”

  “So?”

  “He doesn’t love me.” Connie’s voice broke.

  Sally’s voice protested, “But he can’t wait to get you into bed!”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Connie replied. “We’ve had a running affair for years. He’s between women, and I’m handy.”

  Sally’s voice asked soberly, “Is it really that way?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re hurting!” Sally’s voice was gentle.

  “Badly.”

  “But you came to me, knowing he’d be here. Connie. You didn’t hav— I can’t even say it. You had to be here for me. You’re the sister I never had.”

  “Yes.” Connie’s unstable voice agreed to that.

  “Are you all right?”

  The tone was bitter as Connie replied, “Fine.”

  “You know Tad wouldn’t mind if you came along with us?”

  Connie laughed in a hiccup. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “That’s better. I’ve another fitting for that infuriating gown! Want to come along?”

  Connie’s voice replied, “I think I’ll walk a while.”

  “Then I’ll see you later.”

  Amy thought they would never leave! She held perfectly still in the silence to be sure they had gone. Hearing nothing, she started to rise from her concealed nook.


  Then she heard the muffled sobs. Amy hesitated. How could she leave Connie there so alone and unhappy?

  Amy remembered all the times she’d cried alone. She had especially poignant understanding when Chas said how the Cougars rallied around a distressed member.

  She was a Cougar! However temporarily. She would just go and be with Connie like a sober cousin Bart.

  As Amy went silently up the stairs, she hesitated with the realization that she was intruding. Connie didn’t hear her. She was sitting, curled in a ball on the top step. Her face buried in her hands. Her blond hair was a lovely tumble.

  Amy stood helplessly, then sat down next to Connie and said, “Need a friend’s— a cousin’s Kleenex?”

  Connie jerked her head up, her tear-red eyes wide and startled, then she leaned against Amy and simply bawled.

  Amy gave Connie the Kleenex as she put her arms around her. A good cry can clear thinking. But she waited, and Connie didn’t stop. She was shuddering in spasms.

  Amy asked softly, “What could be this bad? Whatever it is, you can survive it. Come now. You can’t allow yourself to be this upset. How can I help you? Are you ill?”

  Connie nodded vigorously and made a harsh sound as she shivered.

  Lumps or bleeding? Amy asked in dread, “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Don’t anticipate trouble. Do you want me to go with you?”

  Connie moved away from Amy and looked at her with a ravaged face. “Oh, Amy, thank you! At nine-thirty. I couldn’t go to my own doctor. I’d die.”

  “Where shall I meet you?”

  A deep, masculine voice, so recently become familiar, asked as he squatted down on the wooden walkway behind the two women, “What’s going on?”

  It was Chas. It was as if the marines had landed. “Connie? Trouble? Tell me.”

  “I can’t.” With some effort Connie brought herself under stern control. She straightened and calmed herself.

  Chas gave Connie a clean handkerchief. He took Amy’s elbow as he rose, encouraging her to stand up. He said to Amy, “We’ll see you at our suite, okay? It won’t be long.” He kissed Amy’s cheek and patted her bottom discreetly. She had been dismissed.