by Luanne Jones
“I’ll survive, Will. I’ll be all right no matter what happens.”
“But are you sure this is what you want?”
The back of her head bumped the glass door as she looked heavenward. The pig looked down benevolently on her. “Please! Save me from people who continually ask me what I want.”
“Why is that?”
She leveled her gaze at him. “Because they ask, but when I tell them they almost never believe me.”
“I’ll believe you, Rita, just tell me.”
“I want another taste of heaven, Will.” She let the door swing shut a fraction as she moved a step inside the room. “I want a song on the veranda and to dance naked in the moonlight.”
“Those can be arranged.”
“I want to have tonight and just once in my life to let tomorrow take care of itself. I want…” Her voice faltered. She laid her hand above her breast. “…to be careless with my heart.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Then let me make it perfectly clear—I want you…”
He grinned his best aw-shucks-come-and-get-me grin.
“…to knock off the knight in shining armor crap and give me that promise so we can enjoy ourselves, and each other. Period. No strings. No guilt. Can you do that?”
“Can I? I’ve only spent the better part of my life doing that exact thing.” He opened his arms to her.
The door fell shut, and she came to him.
It wasn’t until he held her in his arms that he truly understood, though. If everything up until now had been the better part of his life—then his life had amounted to very little indeed.
He wanted to tell Rita that very thing in that very instant, but he didn’t. He couldn’t and hope to keep her in his arms even for a little while longer.
“Will, I’ve hung on to everything in my life with both fists, and still it’s all slipped through my fingers—my marriage, my daughter, my precious time to make something special of my life. Well, tonight I’m saying ‘no more.’ I’m letting go of what doesn’t matter anymore and opening my self up to…whatever happens next.”
“It’s whatever happens after ‘next’ that has me worried, Rita. I can’t help but think how our throwing caution to the winds for the sake of a few hours of pleasure could have a lasting effect on you.”
“On me.” But not you. She did not have to say it for it to hang in the air between them. She still believed he could walk away from any entanglements he made here without a backward glance.
In all honesty, he could not deny or confirm that suspicion for her. “My hope was to leave you in a better place—and I don’t mean a nicer diner.”
“The bottom line is that you will leave me, Will, better place—including better diner—or not. And that’s all right. I don’t need you to do a major overhaul on my life. In fact for you to think that you can do that…” She took a deep breath. “I guess it’s sweet in its own caveman way but just not necessary.”
“Okay.”
She let out a long, world-weary sigh. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.” She dropped the picnic basket. “Don’t do or say anything more, Will. Just let tonight unfold without any thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow clouding our perspectives.”
“But, Rita…”
“Damn it, Will, give a girl one shot at a proper seduction, won’t you?” She moved close, her hands spreading across his chest.
“If I don’t do or say anything more, how will you know if your seduction is working?”
“You’ll give me a sign, I’m sure.” Her fingers worked lower on his body. “Maybe send up a flare.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“Though it’s not nearly as much as you deserve.” He bent his head to nibble on her neck.
She pushed him away playfully but with enough relish to back up her warning. “Don’t talk.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured just as his mouth covered hers and he pulled her full, yearning body into his embrace.
They had raided the stash of condoms Will had dumped into his duffel bag the night before and had torn their clothes off before they hit the mattress. Laughing and tumbling over each other, they nibbled and licked and even bit at each other until Rita finally rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips.
Catching her breath, she threw her head back and shook her hair off her face. “You haven’t tasted my red velvet yet, have you?”
“Not the cake…no.” He rose up to try to kiss her.
She pushed him back down. “Then you are in for a rare treat.”
“Yes, I know, then later, after we’re done, we can indulge in some cake.” He traced one finger down between her breasts.
“Why wait?” She had to lie on top of him to reach the picnic basket but considered that a delightful bonus.
He slid his hands down to caress her hips and wriggled beneath her. “Why wait indeed.”
“Why wait to indulge?” She moved the small round cake onto the table.
He rolled his head to the side and eyed her handiwork. “I’ve heard of eating crackers in bed, but cake?”
“Maybe not cake, but how about a little icing?”
“You don’t need anything to sweeten our lovemaking but, uh, I have to admit I’m intrigued.”
“I can tell. I feel your…intrigue straining at the sheets under me.” She snaked her fingers down his belly.
He groaned.
She leaned forward just enough to trail one fingertip across the thick peaks of frosting on the cake, then held the confection up for him to see.
He licked his lips.
She waved the icing over him, taunting.
He lay back, waiting.
“Where should I start?” She studied his dark, appealing body. “I could dab bits of sweetness along my neck and places…south, then let you lick them off—slowly.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Or I could blindfold you, then feed you while I savor the sight of your naked, aroused body.”
“I hope you have the same definition of savor as I do, there.”
“Or maybe I could place this glistening glob of creamy satisfaction in one very strategic place on you.” She pointed her finger at him, drawing out the word “you” so that her lips stayed round and pouty as long as possible.
“Rita? Do something. The waiting is making me crazy.”
“You want this?” She held the icing within an inch of his nose.
“Give it to me,” he whispered.
She dipped her hand forward but in the split second before the treat could touch his lips, she popped it in her own mouth.
He started to protest until she slid her finger out and proceeded to painstakingly lap away the wet white covering.
“Oooh, yeah.” He exhaled and half shut his eyes. “Is that good?”
“Want to taste for yourself?”
“You know I do.”
She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue darted out and infused the whole kiss with lush sweetness.
Never had she acted so boldly. Never had she dared so much without fear of the consequences. Suddenly a kiss did not seem deep enough. She tugged the sheet free from between them and took him inside her in one white-hot movement.
He growled, and his upper body lifted from the bed.
She hesitated, even jostled gracelessly, before she found his rhythm. Then it all seemed so right and natural.
He buried his face between her breasts.
She kissed the top of his head and spread her hands over his shoulder blades. Back arched, she let him pleasure her.
They sighed and moaned and moved in their own moonlit dance as old as time itself.
She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her, building, building until the tension peaked. Then she let go, and even as everything went whirling and tumbling out of control inside her, she knew the peace at the eye of the storm.
Will dug his fingers deeper into the supple flesh at her hips and cried out. Then he collapsed back to the mattress, dragging her down on top of him.
When she raised her head from where it lay on his shoulder she could only smile.
“That was very hot.” He put his finger to the center of her lips. “And unmercifully sweet. But I admit to a little disappointment that there wasn’t more cake in it for me.”
“I might, just this once, have dared to be careless with my heart.” She kissed his cheek, his nose, then sat up, her thighs still over his. “But I am never, ever, ever careless with my cooking.”
He entwined his fingers with hers. “What is this new expression you’ve taken up? Careless with your heart? I don’t recall your having said that before.”
“Don’t worry. It isn’t a euphemism for falling in love. It’s not secret code for ‘I’m putting my heart on the line hoping for love’ or any of those other kinds of sentiments that strike fear in the hearts of even the most manly men.”
“Tell me more.”
“I’d rather eat cake.” She scrambled off him, keeping the sheet pulled up above her comfort zone. As she sat on the edge of the bed she gave him a sly glance over her shoulder. “It’s my specialty.”
“I’ve already tasted your specialty.” He sat up and kissed her ear. “But I wouldn’t mind a bite of cake, too.”
“Okay, here.” She got out the silverware she’d brought in the basket, carefully sliced each of them a forkful, then handed him his. “To people who dare to change, even if it’s just for an evening.”
Their fork tines clinked.
“To being naked in the moonlight.” Will put the cake in his mouth and almost instantly groaned with pure contentment.
She reveled in his enjoyment so much she offered him her bite as well and laughed when crumbs fell onto his bare chest.
“Don’t let those crumbs get in this bed or I won’t sleep on these sheets,” she warned.
“You planned on sleeping?”
“I didn’t plan on anything, Will. That’s the magic of this evening for me.”
“Would it ruin it all if I said I did have a plan when I invited you over?”
“I don’t see how it could since we’ve already carried out your plan in vivid detail.” She brushed away a tiny fleck of red cake with her damp fingertip.
He hissed in his breath at her touch, then stilled her hand with a firm grasp. Much as he craved her hands on him, he had other things in mind for the evening. “Not exactly. Believe it or not, my plan had nothing to do with getting you in bed again.”
“Dang it!” She snapped her fingers. “I could have gotten away with just talking.”
“Not just talking.” He nodded his head toward the lights and the karaoke machine by the brick wall. “I kind of hoped the night might involve some singing, too.”
“I saw that when I came in and wondered what you’d gotten up to all alone in this gutted place.”
“Think I was setting a trap for the ghost of Elvis?”
“Hmmm. No, maybe more like practicing your act so you could take it on the road.”
On the road. That was how she saw him. How she would always see him. A man on the move, always with an eye on the clock and mindful of never overstaying his welcome. It was not an unfair characterization. He was not going to stay in Hellon.
The bed creaked as he maneuvered around to sit beside her. “Truth is, I heard a rumor about you.”
“Only one?”
“Only one that mattered to me.” He laid his head against hers and angled his face so he could whisper in her ear. “I heard from a reliable source—well, a source—that you have an incredible singing voice. I’d love to hear it for myself.”
“I couldn’t.” She gnawed at her thumbnail.
“Of course you can. I have it all set up.”
“I’m not warmed up.”
“After what we did? I’d think cooling down would be the issue.”
“Vocally.”
“How long would it take to get warmed up?”
Her gaze shifted to the stage. She wet her lips. She looked down. “I…I’m not dressed for it.”
“Okay. I got it. You’re making excuses.” He had no right to feel as bad as he did at her refusal. “You don’t want to sing for me.”
“I don’t want to sing for anyone, Will.”
“You sang for Pernel.”
“I sang, and Pernel heard me. Seventeen years under the same roof he was bound to overhear me now and again. Lullabies and the occasional return engagement to the World-famous Shower a Go-go.”
“Hey, I could be persuaded to share a shower with you.” Though it galled him to the pit of his gut to think that any other man ever had or would do the same. “If that’s what it takes to hear you sing.”
“Not a bad idea.” She pursed her lips. “Except that—dang—wouldn’t you know it? We don’t have any water here tonight.”
“Who needs water?”
“For a shower? I do.”
“For singing. C’mon, Rita. There are people who have heard you sing. I know it.”
“Okay, I confess, I will sing in front of Pernel. Him and Lacey Marie. Because I know they won’t ever think I’m foolish.”
He ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “I won’t ever think you’re foolish, Rita.”
“Really?”
“I promise.”
“I sing a short solo in the church choir every Christmas and Easter. Maybe you could come around and hear me then. If you’re not afraid that your presence would shake the walls to their very foundations.”
“I’m not afraid.” He kept his face close to hers.
“No?”
“It’s not the kind of thing I usually discuss in such a casual state.” He made a show of checking that both of them had all the right parts covered by the shared sheet, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But it so happens I attend church regularly in Memphis.”
“You do?”
“I’m not Wild Billy West anymore, Rita. I haven’t been…” He looked at his hands. He bowed his head and rubbed the pad of his thumb above the bridge of his nose. “I never was. I never was. I did some crazy shit. Hell, yes, all us boys on the team did. But everyone had their eyes on me, so I got the nickname. I hated that nickname.”
“But all this time you said you didn’t care about gossip or what people said.”
“I don’t. I didn’t. But it’s the name…Wild Billy.” He clenched his fist. “Wild like I didn’t belong to anyone, like I was some kind of mutt they took in and had to tame to make acceptable.”
“As I recall all the girls thought it was a very sexy nickname.”
“Not for a pretender to the throne of the oldest family in Hellon.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Not for a bastard boy expected to play the part of the only son, the only hope to carry on his father’s name.”
“What are you saying, Will?”
“Don’t think worse of my mama.” He laid it down like a command, not a plea. He would not beg for anyone to show respect to the woman who had earned more than her share of it over her lifetime.
“I don’t think anything, better or worse, Will. I don’t understand exactly what you’re saying.”
“I’m saying…” When had this gotten to be about him and his lame-ass problems? Tonight was about Rita. He turned to her and his heart just felt lighter again. “I’m saying I want you to sing to me, Rita.”
She never could have planned that the way she tipped her head then sent the moonlight spilling over her cheeks. Or that her parted lips made him ache to draw her to him again.
He put his hands on either side of her neck like he could capture that look, that feeling, that moment forever. “You said we’d just think about this night. If it’s all we have, let’s not waste it. Sing for me, Rita. Please?”
And she did.
They lay in the bed looking into each other’s eyes and she crooned a
languid, bluesy ballad just for him. He did not hear every word but somehow every note and nuance penetrated his being. When Rita sang, it was like she was inside of him and it felt…like home.
If that thought had wormed its way into his consciousness with any other women, he’d have been gone before the last note stopped vibrating in the air. With Rita? He was safe, wasn’t he? She would not twist his deepest hurts or fears to manipulate him. She would not make demands he could never fulfill.
“Wonderful.” He swept back her hair as she ended the serenade.
“Going to ask for an encore?”
“Sing as much as you like. I could listen to you all night.”
“Okay, but I wasn’t talking about singing.” She slicked the tip of her tongue over her lower lip.
“All right.” He rose up on his elbow to coax her onto her back beneath him. “But this time, I’m in charge of the frosting.”
Chapter 14
EVERY WISE DIXIE BELLE BEARS IN MIND:
You do not have to hold the world together all by yourself. You can let go a little sometimes, and life will go on.
The world had not caved in. She had acted carelessly, recklessly, joyfully with her heart, and the world had not come screeching to a halt. As far as Rita could tell, giving in to the whirlwind choice to go for that once-in-a-lifetime event—twice—had not left everything she cared about in a shambles.
For only a second, not even a full second, she thought of how her mother must have felt the day after the tornado. Freedom. Awesome, overwhelming, elation-inducing and terrifying all at once freedom, that’s what good old Tammy must have known.
For the first time ever Rita understood. Judgment fell away. She even managed a pang of sympathy for Tammy Butcher Stark waking up one day having faced her fears and survived. To realize she could keep right on surviving and facing anything that came her way.
“Wow,” she whispered. That morning Rita had had a taste of that power, that wonder, that hopefulness that had moved her mother to action at last. It humbled her as much as it gave her strength.
