"Well, aren't you Mr. Posh. I spent all night traveling, going from island to island to mainland, where I rented a car for the drive to Seattle. I got to the airport about two-thirty in the morning, and all I can say is thank goodness the air-traffic controllers' strike was settled, because frankly I'd forgotten all about it until I was almost there. But that turned out to be the last bit of luck I had going for me. I waited hours to get a flight home, then had to rent another car when I got to LAX—and the freeways, of course, were in their usual state of gridlock. But, gee." She smacked his chest with the flat of her hand. "How nice that you got to have a good night's sleep before tootling down here in a private plane."
When he bent his head to kiss her this time, there was nothing reverent about it. It was all fierce heat, and she dug her nails into the hard muscles of his chest to anchor herself. She was straining toward him in an attempt to meld their bodies by the time he lifted his head again.
"You think I just took the news of your leaving in stride, jumped in the sack, and slept like a baby?" A rude laugh exploded out of his throat. "Not only did I not sleep worth a damn, sweetheart, my head never even so much as touched a pillow! That frigging little airport in Eastsound was shut down by the time I called last night, and I spent every minute until it opened up again pacing my room, worrying that you'd be gone by the time I got here." His remembered frustration seemed to segue into something much more immediate as his fingers gently traced her puffy eyelids. "Dammit, your eyes aren't swollen just because you've been up all night. You've been crying ." Regret filled his eyes. "I could cut my heart out."
"Oh, yeah. That'd do me a lot of good." "But what if this isn't the last time I make you cry?" Worry etched his eyes. "Jesus, Lily, I know zip about this relationship stuff. I'm sure to fuck it up."
"No doubt you will." She cupped his face in her hands, appreciating the scratchy texture of his beard beneath her palms. "But so will I, Zach. I think that's probably the nature of the beast when you've got two people as different as you and I trying to make a go of it together."
"Great. So you're telling me we're pretty much doomed?"
"Heck, no. I'd bet all my restaurant money, in fact, that we'll get it right more often than we'll mess it up. And that's not even factoring in how stubborn both of us are."
He raised his eyebrows. "And this you see as a plus?"
"Well, if you define stubbornness as pretty much refusing to be swayed from a purpose, don't you think that ought to work in our favor when it comes to our relationship?"
"Yes." His smile dawned white, and his muscles visibly relaxed. "Yes, I do. And I suppose there's even something to be said for the occasional fight." His hands smoothed their way down to her hips. "I bet making up can be a whole lot of fun." He tipped his head. "So what do we do now? Do we get married?"
"Oh. Well. Marriage." Her heart gave a huge lurch and silently screamed Want it! Want it ! "I don't know. There's still so much we haven't talked about. Like what happened last night with Miguel. And what you wanna do with your last two years in the service. Or the fact that if we marry, there goes my sweaty stableboy fantasy."
"Hey, I can be a sweaty stableboy." He spread his thighs to align the fly of his jeans with hers and rocked an impressive erection against the soft notch he'd opened up for himself between her legs. "Would madam care to ride the stallion this morning?"
Oh. Yes. Absolutely. Before she could slide her hands around to his muscular rear to clamp him in place, however, he eased back and scooped her up in his arms. She clutched at his shoulders as he rose to his feet and carried her over to the bed, where he flopped down with her on his lap.
"Before we play horsey, let's get the rest of this out of the way." He gently rearranged a few strands of her hair. "Miguel was collected by the MPs this morning to be transported back to Pendleton. It's out of my hands—men with more stars on their epaulets than I'll ever possess are in charge of deciding his fate now." He related the highlights of his conversation with the young man the previous evening. "As far as I'm concerned he was damn fortunate not to be turned over to the INS."
"I wonder if he's mature enough to appreciate his luck?"
"I doubt it, but that's not our problem. We've got considerations of our own to hash out." Zach tugged on her leg until she swung it around to sit astride him. He gazed at her, perched on his lap looking a bit pale and less pulled-together than he'd ever seen her, yet so pretty in his eyes that it made him ache. Love for her swelled in his chest. "Listen, I thought about this quite a bit on the way down here this morning. And I decided if you'd have me, I'd do what you suggested last night and see about teaching field work."
"Is that what you want to do?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Um, yeah. Sure."
" Zach ." It was her schoolmarm tone, and he knew better than to ignore it.
But he shrugged. "I don't know what I want, okay? That's been the problem—I'm a thirty-six-year-old who suddenly has to figure what he wants to be when he grows up."
"So take your time and figure it out. If you think the instructor thing would work for you, fine. But don't do it for me. Our relationship isn't contingent on you quitting reconnaissance."
"It can keep me away from home for long periods of time, Lily."
"And I'd miss you like crazy if that were the case. But I don't plan to give up my job, and it takes me away from home for a week or two at a time too." She kneaded his shoulders. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: if doing your thing in far off places is what makes you happy, then that's what you oughtta be doing."
"God, I love you."
She grinned at him, then wiggled her butt experimentally. His always-willing-to-be-aroused dick rose to the occasion, but he tried to ignore the messages it sent for a moment. "The truth is, honey chile, doing my thing in far-off places has been losing its allure for a while now. I just haven't figured out yet what I want to replace it with. But whatever that turns out to be could very well mean having to pick up stakes and move across the country. Your restaurant—"
"Can wait. I meant what I said last night, Zach. Two years just isn't that long in the general scheme of things. It simply means I'll have that much more time to save my money, which means I'll have a better cushion for when I start up my place."
"Sweetheart, if you want a cushion, I've got a boatload of mon—" He broke off when he saw her expression. "Uh-oh," he said, giving the thigh that had gone rigid beneath his hand a squeeze. "I know that look. That's the look that makes me feel as if I've pissed in the middle of your tea party. I guess it'll be a pretty chilly day in hell before you accept my financial help, huh?"
The starch left her spine. "It's not that I'm adverse to helping you spend your money," she assured him earnestly. "Heck, if it'll make you happy, you can pay all the household bills—keep me in style. You can even support my shoe habit if you want. But, Zach, the restaurant has been my dream for as long as I can remember—and I have to succeed or fail at it on my own." Her delicate eyebrows drew together. "Does that make me the worst kind of hypocrite?"
"No, ma'am. That makes you a woman of character."
"Oh, my." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I think I may just have to marry you after all."
Every corpuscle in his body screamed yes ! but he managed to keep his voice light when he said, "So, what convinced you? I bet it was my willingness to play sta-bleboy, wasn't it?"
"Well, I have seen the stallion you're bringing to the bargaining table," she agreed, and wiggled upon the object under discussion. But when she framed his face in her hands and looked into his eyes, her own were no longer teasing. "Mostly, though, it's because I have never met another person with as much love to give as you have. I've seen what it's like to be the object of your affections, Zachariah, the lengths you'll go to for those you love. And I can't think of a greater privilege than to be your wife."
"Jesus, Lily," he said hoarsely. No one had ever made him feel the way she did. He never dreamed his heart could swel
l to such proportions that it downright amazed him the two of them didn't float right up to the ceiling. "I love you so freaking much. And I promise you this: I'll make you happy. I'm gonna make you so damn happy—and while I'm at it, I promise to give you one hell of a ride, too."
"I don't doubt that for a minute. And I've gotta confess: your offer to play stableboy was a consideration. Speaking of which—" She subtly rocked upon his lap. "Isn't it about time to bring out the stallion?"
"Oh, absolutely," he said with a tug of his forelock, and laughing, he rolled her onto the bed. "As madam wishes."
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Getting Lucky m-2 Page 29
