Sooner or Later

by Debbie Macomber

  “Actually, Johnny mentioned something about the two of us setting up housekeeping.”

  Samantha’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “He did?”

  Marcie was sorry she’d told her friend this part because she knew exactly what Samantha would say, and she was right.

  “Then what’s the problem? There’s no contest, is there? I mean, Clifford’s sweet and everything, but, honey, Johnny’s the kind of man who’ll make your blood run hot just looking at him.”

  “I know, but…” Marcie let the rest fade. Clifford was the Rock of Gibraltar, while Jack Keller was like shifting sands. Intellectually she knew this, but emotionally she struggled. She panted after Jack, but she cared about Clifford.

  “Uh-oh,” Samantha whispered. “Speaking of the devil. Look who just pulled up.”

  Marcie didn’t want to look. It could only be Jack, and she didn’t want to see him. When she was with him she couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t trust herself to do what she knew was right. He knew that too and used it against her. Little by little, bit by bit, he was chipping away at her defenses.

  She’d told him she needed to think about moving in with him, the same way she’d told Clifford she needed time to consider his marriage proposal. It’d been several days now, and Jack had obviously grown impatient.

  “I’m out of here,” Samantha whispered, winked at Marcie, grabbed her purse, and was out the door.

  “Howdy, Sam,” Marcie heard Jack greet her friend, his voice husky and deep.

  Marcie didn’t turn around. She closed her eyes and summoned her defenses.

  Jack stood behind her. She could feel his presence as keenly as if he were touching her.

  “Marcie.”

  “Hello, Jack.” Her fingers dug into the glass counter.

  “How’s my girl?” he asked next, and cupped her shoulders. His hot breath warmed her as he bent forward and kissed the side of her neck. He sucked gently and ran his tongue brazenly over her smooth skin.

  Marcie curled her toes at the fiery sensation that shot through her.

  “I’ve been thinking about you day and night,” Jack confessed, “wondering if I was going to ever hear from you again.”

  “I…I said I’d call.”

  His lips continued to nibble away at her. “I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to know.”

  Marcie’s eyes drifted shut, and she drooped her head to one side, exposing her neck to him. The desire to turn around and bury herself in his arms made her weak when she desperately needed to be strong.

  “I haven’t come to a decision yet,” she told him, struggling to keep her voice even. “I have to think of every aspect. This is important, very important.”

  “It’s what I told you, isn’t it?”

  “No,” she denied, and the breathless quality was back in her voice. “It’s everything.”

  “Let me help you make up your mind,” he whispered.

  “That’s not a good idea.” Although her lips said one thing, her body said another. Her head was lolling back, and she rocked it gently from side to side to give him greater access to her skin.

  “Baby, I’m going crazy wanting you.” He slipped his arm around her waist and fitted her backside to his hard, masculine front.

  “Jack—”

  “I know I shouldn’t be here.” His hands were busy with the front of her uniform. Before she could find the strength to stop him, he’d unfastened her blouse and eased his hand inside, cupping her breast. Her nipples turned traitor and beaded instantly. She couldn’t keep herself from trembling and rotating her buttocks against his throbbing erection.

  “Easy now, baby, easy.” A wealth of satisfaction echoed in his dark whisper. His free hand cupped her crotch, rubbing the junction between her legs.

  Marcie couldn’t believe she had allowed him to do this to her. She’d lowered the venetian blinds at closing time, but the slats remained open. Anyone passing on the sidewalk could look in and see what they were doing.

  It was hard to believe that any man was capable of reducing her to this level, and she sobbed softly, willing herself to find the strength to resist him.

  Jack misunderstood her cry of distress as one of need. “The couch is still in the back room?” he asked urgently. His hot breath branded her ear.

  “Yes, but I don’t think—”

  “That’s been our problem,” he countered huskily, “we both been thinking too damn much. It’s time to recapture the fire we once shared.”

  “Oh God.”

  Marcie never intended for them to end up on the couch in her back room. She wasn’t entirely sure how he got her there. One moment she was in front of her shop, battling back her own treacherous body. The next thing she knew, she was in her back room, lying across the sofa. Within seconds Jack had her blouse peeled open and her breasts exposed. He knelt on the floor and buried his face in her bounty, cupping her fullness in his palms. His mouth locked on to a nipple and he sucked greedily.

  The instant his mouth closed over her nipple, the pulse throbbing between her legs intensified and she lifted her hips from the sofa.

  “That’s good, baby, real good. Let me see how ready you are.” His voice was hoarse with need.

  No sooner had the words parted his lips than he stuck his hand up her skirt and swept aside the crotch of her panties.

  Marcie stiffened in his arms. It’d been so long since she’d made love, so long since a man had touched her this intimately. Her body reacted and she gave a strained cry at the unexpected burst of pleasure. She was stunned, dizzy, almost delirious as he began to work his fingers inside her, stretching her, readying her for him.

  “No—”

  He cut off her cry of protest by kissing her. His tongue echoed the stroking movements of his fingers, the rhythm fast and hard.

  The sensation he created was like fire, spiraling into a tighter and tighter coil. It threatened to break through and take control any moment.

  Marcie knew what he was doing, what he’d intended from the first. He was using her body against her, bringing her to climax, pleasuring her first. She also knew that afterward he would expect the same relief. This was more than heavy petting, it was an unspoken agreement to have sex with him.

  “Jack, no.” Her voice was a weak wail of anguish as she broke off the kiss and struggled to a semisitting position. Breathing heavily, she leaned on one elbow.

  Jack’s breathing was equally ragged. His head drooped forward as if her words hadn’t fully broken through the fog of his desire.

  “You don’t mean it. Tell me you don’t mean it?” he pleaded.

  It took her several moments to compose herself to where she could look him in the eye again, let alone speak. “I’m sorry, truly I am. I never intended for matters to progress to that point.”

  Jack leveled himself off the floor and sat at the end of the couch, his elbows on his knees. He glanced at her and exhaled sharply. “I’m the one who needs a cigarette this time. You got one?”

  She shook her head. “Not with me.”

  He rubbed his face.

  “How about a shower?”

  She wasn’t much help with that, either. “I could stick your head in the washbasin.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll pass.”

  She sat up and took a couple of minutes to catch her breath. Her fingers refused to cooperate as she fastened the small white buttons in the front of her blouse. “I can’t think straight when you touch me.”

  Jack laughed. “I disagree. You seem to find a means to thwart me without much of a problem. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m frustrated as hell, but at the same time I’m a little in awe of this newfound control of yours. You’ve changed, Marcie.”

  He couldn’t have paid her a better compliment. “I’m not the same Marcie anymore. I haven’t been in quite some time.”

  “Live with me, Marcie,” he said, reaching for her hands. “Baby, we’re good together.”

  “In bed, you mean.”

  “W
ithin six months we’ll know each other like only married people do,” he countered.

  “But we might not even like each other.”

  He captured her face between his hands. “I’ve always liked you. You’re sweet and gentle and good.”

  Marcie bit into her lower lip.

  “What is it?” he asked gently. “Tell me and I’ll do anything within my power to fix it.”

  “I want children, a home, a family.” Her eyes held his. “I want a husband.”

  “You’re looking for me to marry you, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, unwilling to take second best. She didn’t tell him Clifford had proposed. This was not a contest to see which one could buy her the biggest diamond.

  “Marriage,” he repeated as if it were a dirty word.

  The bell above the door chimed, and Jack looked to her. The CLOSED sign was in the window, but she hadn’t locked the door.

  “Marcie?”

  Clifford. She bolted off the couch so fast, she nearly tripped over her own two feet.

  “Clifford, hello.” Her cheerful greeting sounded false even to her own ears. She was sure her cheeks were flame red and that he must know she had another man in her back room.

  “I hope you don’t mind my stopping in unexpectedly like this.” He removed his baseball cap and held it in both hands. His gaze drifted toward the back room.

  “No, of course not.” She leaned against the glass counter and avoided looking him in the eye.

  “I realize I haven’t given you much time…”

  “You want to know if I’ve reached a decision yet?”

  “Yeah.” Again he looked past her toward the back of the shop and the drapes that separated the two main parts of the business. “I don’t mean to pressure you,” he added.

  “I know that.”

  His gaze focused on the front of her uniform, and he edged his way backward toward the front door. “I can see that I’ve come at a bad time….”

  “I’ll call you,” she promised, “okay?”

  “Sure.” His eyes filled with an incredible sadness. “Sure,” he repeated. “Whatever you say.” Having said that, he turned hurriedly and walked out the door.

  Marcie had the incredible urge to cry. She’d seen the look in Clifford’s eyes and recognized it all too well. It was the same look of disappointment and hurt she’d felt a number of times in her dating career. It generally came when she learned the man she’d been seeing for three months was married. Or how she felt when a guy asked her for a small loan for his ailing mother and she knew damn well it was for booze.

  She returned to the back room and slumped onto the couch.

  Jack stood above her. “All right,” he said impatiently. “Let’s get married.”

  36

  Letty was only vaguely aware of what was happening to her. She felt herself walking down a long narrow corridor. Doors opened from each side of the hallway, and each one seemed to beckon to her.

  She stopped and read the nameplate and was tempted at each door to enter, would have if not for Murphy, who stood at the end of the hallway, calling to her. He sounded angry and desperate. When she hesitated, he commanded her attention. He refused to allow her to rest or to stop. His demands on her became relentless.

  Once she reached him, he didn’t seem satisfied. He wanted something from her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Because she loved him, she tried to give him whatever he asked, but he made no sense to her befuddled mind. He seemed to think it was terribly important for her to drink something bitter tasting.

  Later his voice became gentle as he spoke to her. His hands cooled her face and washed her face and neck. She couldn’t remember being so dirty. With everyone else he sounded urgent and impatient, but with her he was uncharacteristically tender.

  She slept and had trouble waking. A discordant noise interrupted her rest. It sounded like the roar of an engine. Like that of an aircraft. She felt the sun on her face and the force of the wind. It felt cool when she was so terribly, uncomfortably hot.

  Then he held her against him and told her again how much he loved her. He promised to find Luke for her.

  Luke. A sob obstructed her throat at the mention of her brother. He was forever gone to her. Forever lost. She’d found him too late. The intense grief was mingled with the memory of an unexpected gift. Murphy’s love. Her hand closed over the tiny gold angel.

  “Remember, I love you,” Murphy whispered.

  Letty wouldn’t soon forget.

  She was wrenched out of his arms and set inside a seat. But this wasn’t like any car she’d ever known. She realized as she gazed at a row of panels that she was inside a plane and Father Alfaro was with her.

  The sound of guns and angry shouts interrupted their farewells. Murphy reacted immediately, leaped back, and slammed the door closed.

  “Go, go, go!” he cried, but he wasn’t speaking to her. “Get the hell out of here!”

  Letty’s head lolled to one side, and she saw Murphy racing across a grass field. She gasped with alarm when she saw a band of guerrillas surround him. Her gasp became a cry of frustration and anguish as red tips of fire exploded from the end of a machine gun and she watched, helpless, as Murphy fell.

  “No…no, not Murphy…must go back.”

  “We can’t,” Father Alfaro said, his words marked with sadness.

  “He didn’t have a chance,” the pilot said in a strong American accent. Letty tried to focus, tried to think clearly, but everything was cloudy, obscured from her as if she were trapped inside a deep fog.

  “Why didn’t he come with us?” So little of this made sense to her.

  “He made himself the target instead. He saved our lives,” Father Alfaro told her, gripping her hand. “No greater love has a man than he who lays down his life for his friends.”

  Soft sounds drifted toward Letty. The distinct click of a clock, counting off the seconds. The padded footsteps against a tile floor, the scrape of metal rings against a rail. The scent was that of disinfectant and something else she couldn’t name.

  It cost her a surprising amount of energy to lift her eyelids and look around. The first thing she saw was a round clock on the wall, then a television mounted in the corner. A railing, like that for a shower, looped around her bed.

  If she didn’t know better, she would think she was in a hospital. The view outside her window looked decidedly like that of Texas. But that didn’t seem possible.

  The last thing she remembered was being in Zarcero and of Murphy holding her. She remembered something else. A small, worrisome fear niggled at her conscious. A plane and gunshots and Murphy putting his own life on the line for her.

  Murphy. She smiled, closed her eyes, and reached for the chain around her neck.

  It was missing.

  Frantic now, she forced herself to sit up. Stretching awkwardly, she reached for the button that rang for the nurse. A disembodied voice responded.

  “Miss Madden, you’re awake. That’s wonderful. I’ll be right in. You’ve got an anxious gentleman here, waiting to see you.”

  Murphy. It had all been so confusing. Murphy wouldn’t abandon her. Not after giving her an engagement necklace. The whole episode with the airplane had been part of some terrible nightmare. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving.

  The nurse arrived moments later. Her wide, friendly smile put Letty at ease. Then, when she least expected it, she thrust a thermometer in Letty’s mouth and took her blood pressure.

  “You said my friend…,” she asked the minute the temperature gauge was out of her mouth.

  “In a minute, dear.” The nurse smiled graciously and reached for Letty’s wrist to check her pulse. It was all Letty could do not to mention that her heart was in fine working order. She wanted her necklace and to see Murphy, in that order.

  The friendly nurse retrieved the dog tags and seemed surprised when Letty kissed the angel and placed the set over her head. It wasn’t much
of an engagement ring to anyone else, but it was worth more than any diamond to her because it had come from his heart.

  “Would you like me to send in your friend now?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, then changed her mind. “No, wait. I must look a sight.”

  “You look a thousand times better than when they brought you in, dear. For two days we didn’t know if you were going to live or die. You’ve been very ill.”

  The kindly nurse ran a brush through Letty’s hair. “Are you ready for your friend now?”

  “Please.” Letty was so eager to talk to Murphy. So eager to learn what he’d discovered about Luke in Zarcero. Eager to show him how much she loved him.

  She heard the heavy footsteps before he entered her room and closed her eyes briefly in anticipation of seeing him again.

  But it wasn’t Murphy who entered her hospital room, grinning from ear to ear. It was Slim.

  “Welcome home, Letty,” he greeted her, his ever-present Stetson in his hand. “My, but you’re a sight for sore eyes. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”

  “Slim,” she murmured, unable to disguise her disappointment.

  “From what I understand, we’re lucky to have you.”

  “Hello.” Hiding the devastating disappointment was more than she could manage. “Do you know anything about Murphy?”

  “He didn’t come back with you?”

  “No. I don’t know.” She lay back against the pillow, overwhelmingly tired and broken and alone. Slim was her friend, but Murphy was her heart. Her very reason for being alive.

  Jack loved her. He hadn’t realized his feelings for Marcie until after he’d proposed. Then he wondered why it had taken him so long to recognize the truth. Contacting her after a nine-month silence had been a fluke. But once he saw her again, he’d been completely taken by the changes he’d seen in her. Their intermittent love fests were based on something more than sexual satisfaction. True, it had taken her refusal to bed him again for him to see the light. In the weeks since, he’d enjoyed spending time with her. He found Marcie to be intelligent, well read, and well versed in political affairs. Not only did she have a decent head on her shoulders, but she was warm, witty, and fun.