HIS TENDER TOUCH

by Sharon Mignerey

  The crate's cardboard walls were reinforced with pine boards on the top and bottom. The box, well over seven feet tall and nearly as wide as the door, made a refrigerator crate look small. Plastered all over the container were stickers labeled Fragile and This Side Up and Do Not Drop.

  "Where do you want this?" he asked, looking around.

  "I don't even know what it is," she said. "So how can I know where I want it?"

  "Can't help you there." They guided the crate-laden dolly toward an empty spot in the middle of the room. Efficiently, they unstrapped the box, and the helper headed back outside. The driver held out his hand for the clipboard, then gave it back to her with a pen. "Your signature?"

  Audrey signed her name, then walked around the carton after the men left. There wasn't a marking on the box to tell her where it had come from or what was inside.

  She discovered opening the crate would be no easy task, since it was nailed shut. From the kitchen, she retrieved a step stool and a claw hammer to pry up the boards. Climbing the step stool, she went to work on the lid. Once it was off, straw packing met her bewildered gaze. Another trip to the kitchen, this time for plastic bags to hold the packing.

  Deciding there was no way she was going to stand on her head to pull the packing out of a seven-foot-tall box, she pried away one of the sides. As soon as it was loose, and she pulled it off, she leaned it against the wall. The packing spilled onto the floor.

  And within the crate stood a magnificent puma.

  Its front paws stretched into the air, and its hind feet flexed for the instant it would leave the ground. Sanded smooth and polished, the wood gleamed in the afternoon sun. In disbelief, Audrey touched the mountain lion. Sleek, cool and more perfect than she could have ever imagined. Numbly, she backed up and plopped onto one of the dining-room chairs behind her.

  She sat there for a long time, watching the light slide across the puma's lustrous body, illuminating each muscle, each nuance of its expression in turn. Like the man who carved it, the puma was intense, powerful, graceful. Perfect. The work was fit for the finest galleries; instead, it was here in her small, modest living room.

  And she could not fathom why he had sent it.

  "Oh, Gray, why?" she asked on an anguished whisper, her throat clogged, her eyes sandpapery from the tears that would not fall.

  "Because you made me believe in possibilities."

  The baritone voice, familiar now only in her dreams, echoed her deepest wish for him. Her imagination had tormented her before, and each time she had glanced up, hoping to see him, she realized all she heard was the longing within her heart. This time, she refused to look, her attention remaining focused on the puma.

  "Audrey?"

  Slowly, her gaze left the sculpture. Her heart pounding, she finally looked at the front door. Shadowed by the screen door, a man stood on the porch. A tall man with broad shoulders.

  She rose from the chair and moved toward the door with all the care of a demolition expert approaching a bomb.

  A man with intense eyes.

  She swallowed, not daring to believe he was actually here.

  He opened the screen door and stood there watching her. He was thinner, the creases in his cheeks more pronounced, his eyes more shadowed than she remembered.

  Too scared to hope he was really here, she couldn't say a word.

  "Ah, damn, this was a mistake," he finally said, letting go of the door. It slammed closed, and he took a step toward the edge of the porch.

  "No! Wait."

  Slowly, he turned around. She opened the door and held out her hand.

  "Please. Come in."

  Stiffly, he walked into the house, not stopping until he came face-to-face with the puma. Feeling more awkward than she ever had in her life, Audrey followed Gray. His hair was tousled as though he had driven with the windows rolled down. A teal-green golf shirt stretched over his back, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders.

  "You're okay?" she asked. "You're all recovered from the gunshot…?"

  He rolled his shoulder and turned around to face her. "Yeah. You?"

  "Fine." She met his eyes briefly before looking again at the sculpture.

  "You moved."

  "Yeah." The word came out as though she had run a long way and was out of breath. She glanced around the room where boxes still needed to be unpacked. She wanted to look her fill at him, but his intense stare made it impossible to do so without his detection. "Can I get you anything? Iced tea? Lemonade?"

  "That would be nice."

  She fled to the kitchen, bright compared to the dimness of the living room. Filling a pair of glasses with ice cubes, she was acutely aware that Gray had followed her.

  "How did you find me?" she asked.

  "Francie gave me your address." Joining her at the counter, he reached out and touched the leaf of one of the African violets in the window. "I hope that was okay."

  Such a simple gesture shouldn't have reminded her what his hands felt like touching her. But it did.

  "Fine." Deciding she sounded like an idiot, she poured the lemonade, unaware her hands were shaking until Gray took the pitcher from her. His remembered heat surrounded her, inviting as summer sunshine.

  Setting the container on the counter, he took both of her hands within his. "I'll leave if I'm making you this nervous."

  She stared at his clasped hands a moment before meeting his eyes. "I don't want you to go," she said, her voice husky.

  He expelled a huge sigh. "This isn't easy, is it?"

  She shook her head.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. "Then maybe I should just lay all my cards on the table."

  Not knowing what to say, she simply watched him. He squeezed her hands and let them go.

  Wandering toward the back of the house, he stopped at the screen door and stared into the backyard, which was dominated by a big apple tree.

  His back to her, he said, "I want you to have the puma. But it comes with a price."

  "Can I afford it?" she asked. Her voice sounded strangled to her.

  "I don't know." He turned to face her. "It's a package deal." He paused, held her eyes with his own when she finally looked at him. "I come with it."

  Some of the awful constriction around her heart eased.

  "If I take the puma, it's forever," she whispered.

  "That's what I hoped."

  One second, she was separated from him by six feet of kitchen floor. The next, she was caught in his arms in an embrace so fierce she couldn't breathe. She didn't care. She held him close, finding within his arms that sense of belonging she had associated with him from the beginning.

  Suddenly, he lifted her up and returned to the living room, where he sat down on the couch, cradling her on his lap.

  "I've missed you so much," she said, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips.

  "Me, too." He clasped one of her hands within his and brought her palm to his mouth. The touch of his lips against her sensitive skin made her shiver.

  "What made you change your mind?" she asked. Easing his hands into her loose hair, he encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder. Inhaling his aroma, she waited, sensing he was searching for the right words.

  "I damned near got you killed because I didn't trust anyone else to take care of you," he said, his voice a deep rumble against her ear.

  Though she didn't wholly agree with that statement, she remained silent.

  "And I didn't trust myself to be the kind of man you deserve."

  She tipped her head back so she could look at him. "It's one of the things I most admire about you," he said. "Your willingness to trust. Do you know how rare that is?"

  "Do you trust yourself now?" she asked softly.

  He looked down at her, his hazel eyes dark. "I don't know, love. But I want to try."

  She put her hands against his neck. "I love you."

  "Ah, Audrey, I love you, too." His lips touched her mouth in a shimmering caress. "I love you more tha
n I've ever loved anyone or anything."

  Then he gave her the kiss she had been waiting for. So deep it sparked her desire for more, so tender it brought tears to her eyes.

  "I have something to tell you," she said when the kiss ended.

  "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter." His lips roamed over her face as he pressed kisses against her skin. "Nothing matters except being together."

  "I'm going to have a baby," she said.

  The kisses stilled.

  "Your baby."

  He lifted his head, his eyes dark and unreadable as they met hers. His gaze fell to her stomach.

  "My baby?" Gently, he placed his palm against her belly. "How the hell did that happen?"

  His tone was gruff, but she heard the note of happiness underneath. The last bands of apprehension loosened, and she dared a smile.

  "Must have been something in the water," she teased. "That night in the pool." She touched the etching of Kokopelli on her bracelet. "Or Indian fertility symbols."

  "You think so?" The corners of his eyes crinkled. "You, and this little one in here. You're a package deal, too?"

  "‘Fraid so."

  "Our baby?" His somber expression eased into the smile she loved so much.

  She nodded.

  "Are you okay? No wonder you were so scared when I showed up." The smile abruptly left his face. "If I hadn't come to my senses, would you have told me?"

  Cupping his cheek with her hand, she said, "I honestly don't know. I'm glad I won't have to find out."

  Gathering her close, he whispered in her ear, "I'm glad, too. And I'm glad you're pregnant. I'll be a good father, I promise."

  "I already know you will."

  He brushed his cheek against hers. "And I'll be a good husband to you, love. I promise."

  Emotion clogged her throat. "I know."

  "We can still make love, can't we?"

  "We'd better be able to."

  He looked down at her, and she felt her face heat.

  "Right now?" he asked.

  She nodded, feeling the heat spread.

  He laughed, cupping her face with his hand. "I love it when you go all shy on me."

  She smiled, reveling in his laughter, realizing what a precious gift it was.

  "Except, I know there is a brazen woman hiding in there." He kissed her deeply.

  "Only with you," she murmured.

  He stood up, holding her effortlessly in his arms, then carried her into the hallway off the living room, finding the bedroom.

  When he set her down, she put her arms around him, gazing up at him with all the love in her heart.

  "Oh, Gray, my love. You've come home to me," she whispered.

  Cupping her face with his hands, he bent to her lips. "It's where I belong. To you. Forever."

  * * * * *