“Please tell me you were at least bruised,” she asked Ted.
He scowled. “I drank out of a straw all day.”
Mitzi grinned. What a relief. For the first time, she was really beginning to suspect she would be able to forgive them both. At first she’d been spitting mad, but as Grant had sputtered out his weird apology, her mood had shifted. It was all so ridiculous, and it was gratifying to know that Grant really was Grant, and not that other creature.
She finished her gauze handiwork with a flourish and herded the Bobbsey twins out of the bathroom. “There’s one thing I’m still unclear about.” She glanced from brother to brother. “When we kissed at the lake...”
Ted waved his hands frantically. “I was in Austin the whole time!”
Mitzi laughed at Ted’s horrified reaction. They were like oil and water, but she was beginning to appreciate him. For not being Grant.
Speaking of whom... She turned to him and found him grinning at her, and felt her own lips hitch up in response. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had such an emergency at work? I would have understood.”
“You kept talking about how you hated workaholic men. Then, when I was about to tell you that Ted and I had changed places at the rehearsal dinner, you told me the Barry-Larry story.”
She put her hands on her hips. “But the whole point of that sad tale was that I got stuck with the icky brother. In this case it’s reversed.”
Laughing, the two of them glanced over at Ted, who raised his wrapped hands in surrender. “Hey, a man’s ego can only take so much.”
Mitzi ushered Ted out the front door and returned to Grant who was sprawled on the couch, his arm flung over his face. She giggled. “What are you doing?”
He peeked at her and sat up a little. “Just wondering how I can ever win back your trust.” He shook his head sadly, but his arch tone made her question how seriously she should be taking him. She perched on the edge of the couch. “I heard the doubts in your voice when you were wondering which of us was at the lake with you, kissing you.”
She nodded, catching his drift. “It is difficult to tell you two apart. The resemblance is uncanny.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But what if I swore to you that I was the only one who had ever kissed you?”
She leaned closer. “I guess that would be one way to make sure I had the correct brother. Of course, I would have to be absolutely familiar with every aspect of a Grant Whiting kiss.”
He frowned dramatically. “It wouldn’t be easy.”
She answered with a somber nod. “It would take a lot of research.”
“And practice. You’d have to know every facet of what our kisses could be like, so that in the end, a peck on the lips would be like a PIN code between us.”
“Or a lock combination,” she agreed.
“Or like the magnetic strip on the back of a credit card—one swipe of the lips and you’d know I was the right guy.” He pulled her achingly close, until their lips were practically touching.
“I’m pretty sure you’re the right guy already.” Just being in his arms felt undeniably right.
He looked up at her through dark-blue hooded eyes, and his voice grew gritty and husky. “Why don’t we make it definite?”
Their lips touched and Mitzi felt an explosion of sensation inside her. Hard to believe that just seconds before she’d been laughing and joking. This kiss didn’t feel like teasing, or flirtation. It wasn’t a mere touch of lips. Instead, it was almost as if they were memorizing each texture and touch. Every turn of the head and movement of lips and tongue. The usual awkward bumping of noses didn’t bring a giggle out of either one of them. Right away, this was a kiss that meant business.
She sank against him, not certain at first whether he had steered her that way or not. They were both respectably clothed, but there was nothing modest about the way they were touching each other. There was something irresistible about the rich fabric of his jacket that made her want to run her hands underneath it, feeling the outlines of his chest as the silky lining of the jacket caressed her hand. She couldn’t help noticing that he seemed likewise intrigued by the sueded silk of her dress. As they feasted on each other’s lips, the air was thick with the sounds of whispers and rustles of fabric. Each movement of his hands as they caressed her arms, raced up and down her spine or made lazy circles around the perimeter of her low-backed dress sent spears of desire darting through her.
After the stress of an overly dramatic day, Mitzi found release in doing no thinking at all, just feeling. The taste of him, the fading scent of his aftershave, the warm strength of his lips—reveling in these sensations could have occupied her for hours. When he ran a hand expertly over her hip and down her leg, however, she let out a low moan, causing him to look up.
“Too much?” he asked.
Not nearly enough, she thought, letting the words remain unspoken as she looked into his handsome face. His blue eyes were as dark as a midnight sky. Thank heavens for the autonomic nervous system. She couldn’t think of any other way she would have been able to breathe.
“In school, I was always terrible at remembering locker combinations,” she told him. “I had to practice it over and over.”
He smiled, then reached up and idly replaced a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “It’s terrible to be locked out,” he said, giving her chin a little nibble.
Her heart started beating an erratic, insistent rhythm, like the tom-toms of an exotic jungle tribe. “And those little magnetic strips on the backs of credit cards...”
He bestowed her neck with a series of pecks and kisses. She shivered.
“...they’re not very reliable. You have to keep testing to make sure they’re functioning properly.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, touching that little hollow at the base of her throat with his lips. “You can never be too careful.”
The tom-toms were thumping away like crazy now, and when he experimentally undid the top button of her dress, she felt as if a whole tribe was doing a fire dance in her stomach. She looked down at Grant and maneuvered a hand over his. “Grant,” she said. Everything was happening so fast.
Then again, sometimes fast was good.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Something incredible has happened to me.”
Something incredible was happening to her, too. Namely, her blood felt as if it were transforming into molten lava. “What?” she managed to croak.
“I think I love you, Mitzi.”
Suddenly, her doubts shattered. Her inhibitions, too. And her good sense, but that had taken a hike the first time she’d looked into Grant’s blue eyes—really looked into his eyes, that day at the wedding.
She was on the verge of telling him that she loved him, too. That she’d loved him ever since the night he’d walked her around the neighborhood and told her about how he’d had to move out of the house where he’d harbored so many dreams of raising a family.
But he captured her lips again, making words superfluous. All that she would have had such a hard time saying aloud, she could now express in their kiss. And when the vocabulary of their lips seemed to fall short of what she wanted to communicate, she moved her body needfully against his, and perfectly expressed her mounting desire by boldly pushing off his coat and undoing his tie and the buttons of his dress shirt. She longed to feel his bare skin against her palms.
He caught her hand again and smiled. “I don’t want to make love to you on a couch, Mitzi.”
She drew back, smiling. “Whoever built this house was ingenious. There’s a bedroom just steps away from here.”
But when she looked toward the bedroom door, it seemed miles away. There was nothing more awkward than standing up, half-dressed, and stumbling for the nearest bed.
But she should have known that Grant would allow nothing about intimacy between them to be awkward. In one fast movement, he stood, gave her a hand up, then lifted her off her feet, carrying her against his chest into the bedroom
. It was the first time a man had ever truly swept her off her feet.
He placed her lovingly on the bed and undressed her as carefully as if she were a treasured gift. Each time a new part of her was exposed, he stopped to examine and caress. His searing blue gaze made her feel beautiful, and cherished. And being the recipient of so much loving attention in turn gave her a confidence she’d never had before, so that when it was her turn to respond in kind, she didn’t flinch. How could she? Her curiosity, her desire, was too great.
When they finally lay in each other’s arms, both as naked as the day they were born, she felt that she had never been so close to another person before. But how could that be? They’d only known each other for such a short time. Maybe he did have some magical bewitching power that made her lose her good sense. Or, more wonderful still, maybe they were just meant to be.
She hoped it was true. She wanted to believe that when they made love, it would be the beginning of forever for both of them. That they would create a full life together, and a home, and children. Could it be? The jungle drums still beating insistently inside certainly felt that way. But what was left of her rational mind piped in with a memory.
I think I love you, Mitzi.
He thought he loved her. As usual, she was pondering forever, and the man was just agonizing over the moment-to-moment.
As last-minute doubts swirled in her mind, her eyes remained riveted on Grant, his eyes, his gorgeous body, his very aroused body. She blushed, the first hint of modesty she’d shown all night, then remembered how desperately she had waited for this moment. How unhappy she’d been when she’d thought, even for a short time, that she and Grant might never get their relationship off the ground. Now it was taking off like a rocket, and she wasn’t about to complain.
He pulled her close, kissing her earlobe, and whispered, “Is something wrong?”
Too often in the past, she’d deep-sixed her romances by pushing for a commitment too soon. Not this time, she vowed to herself as she felt desire build from his caresses. This time, she would live in the here and now. If it killed her.
She nestled closer to him. “Everything’s perfect.”
And once their passion had played out and they lay together, sated and happy in each other’s arms, she knew that she had spoken truly. Everything was perfect.
For now.
As GRANT’S BYES swept open, he was overcome with bliss. In his arms lay Mitzi, her hair tousled across the pillow. His fingers itched to comb through all that luxurious hair, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Instead, he basked in the memory of all that had taken place last night. He’d never felt so much for anyone before. It was more than infatuation, that was for sure. The woman had turned his life upside down, and at a time when it seemed pretty wobbly already.
With the ink on his divorce papers barely dry, he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The trouble was, she wasn’t even going to be in the same city after Saturday, and that was only two full days away. Long-distance romances being what they were, their fledgling relationship seemed destined to go the way of the dodo bird before it was barely off the ground.
As if sensing the tension his gloomy thoughts had spawned, Mitzi turned in his arms and looked up at him. Grant’s heart did an elaborate flip in his chest. For a moment he was blinded as he remembered every touch, taste and sound. He swallowed, barely suppressing a groan. He thought his body would have been absolutely sated. Not so.
She smiled contentedly and stretched like some exotic feline after a particularly satisfying catnap. He couldn’t stop looking at her. He wanted to make love to her again in the most desperate way.
Mitzi gazed back at him, and her smile slowly faded until dread registered in her eyes. “This is it, isn’t it?”
He frowned. “This is what?”
“The end.” Stoically, she sat up, careful to keep the floral sheet modestly over her bosom. “I should have known that after the most fantastic night of my life, I would wake up and discover I’ve been living in a fool’s paradise.”
He was having a hard time following her. “Last night was the most fantastic night of your life? Really?”
Mitzi groaned, collapsed, then flopped the bedsheet over her face. “Oh, how mortifying,” her muffled voice exclaimed. “I thought you were at least enjoying yourself, too.”
Grant shook his head, wondering how two people could make such a muddle of communication. “Are you kidding? It was wonderful!”
But he was talking to a bedsheet. He pried the sheet back down over her head and looked into her eyes. “Would you please come up for air and tell me what’s wrong?”
Mitzi hesitated. Grant’s confusion sounded genuine—a good sign. Last night she had let her guard down so completely; she’d never been so uninhibited with a man. Or so nervous come the dawn. But maybe for once the ax wasn’t going to fall.
She shimmied up to a sitting position and eyed him doubtfully. “You tell me.”
He looked perplexed. “The only thing wrong I can think of is that we’re eventually going to have to get out of our love nest to forage for food.”
Her assessing gaze remained pinned on him, until slowly the sincerity in his eyes telegraphed to her heart. “You mean you weren’t about to tell me bon voyage?”
“Where did you get that idea?”
She smiled. Wonder of wonders! “You mean you aren’t about to set off on your dream of exploring Antarctica?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Mitzi looked into those blue eyes of his and felt her fears fade away. “Oh, Grant,” she exclaimed, melting against him. “I don’t even want to think about lifetimes, or what might happen tomorrow. For once, I’m going to go with the flow and enjoy myself.”
He looked down at her, confused. Was she still thinking that they were having a fling? “But?”
She covered his lips. This morning, she didn’t want to hear any proclamations that might not hold water in another week. “No, Grant, let’s take this one day at a time.”
Grant frowned. “That shouldn’t be difficult, since we only have two days.” Personally, he was ready for two decades, two lifetimes, two centuries, but he didn’t want to overplay his hand. If Mitzi wanted to take it one day at a time, he’d have to go along with her. After all, just five days ago he’d told his brother he wasn’t ready to get married again.
There was only one problem. He didn’t want her to leave.
“Why don’t you stay?” he asked.
“In Austin?” She propped up on one elbow and studied his face. “I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I’m due back at the office on Monday.”
Office!
Suddenly his work came rushing back to his love-fogged memory. It wasn’t only Mitzi’s timetable getting in their way. In an agony of dread, he slapped his palm over his forehead.
Mitzi hovered over him, concerned. “What’s the matter?”
“The next two nights are a mess. Tomorrow my stepmother is having a big party for the people who want to buy Whiting’s. I have to be there.”
Mitzi smiled. “I’ve got the perfect party dress, Grant. It’s lime-green, and has a few food stains on it, but I’m sure you won’t be too embarrassed to be seen with me.”
A party at Mona’s wasn’t how he wanted to spend his last night with Mitzi, but she did have a point. Grant grinned back at her, and for a moment as he looked into her sunny eyes, a weight fell off his shoulders. How could he worry about a stupid party when he was in bed with the most wonderful, whimsical woman in the world?
“Tell you what,” he said. “Forget the party. We’ll tag it, then we’ll have one of our own—a party for two catered by yours truly, with thick steaks and champagne.”
Mitzi’s mouth watered in anticipation. “Steaks and champagne, and a bubble bath.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would that be as an appetizer, or dessert?”
“I always wanted to drink champagne in a bubble bath,” she explained.
>
“But wouldn’t a whole dinner get a little messy? I mean, the steak juice running into the bathwater.”
Mitzi laughed. “Okay, forget the bubble bath.”
Grant gazed at her adoringly, and in a moment she could tell that the bubble-bath idea had also taken root in his imagination. “Don’t worry, we’ll work around it.”
In fact, a long bubble bath with Mitzi might be just the thing to top off this stressful week, Grant thought. Of course, he tried not to dwell on the fact that they were planning their private farewell wingding. He couldn’t bear the thought of parting from her just now, when they were suddenly so close and so happy.
Two days. It was so little time. Tonight. Thursday night. He groaned.
“What is it?” Mitzi asked, looking primed for bad news.
He hesitated to bring up his date with Joy Moreland, but decided that honesty was the only policy to use with Mitzi from now on. “The real problem is tonight. Ted promised my stepmother that I would take out Mr. Moreland’s daughter. I’d rather have a root canal, but I don’t see a way out of it.”
Mitzi nibbled her lower lip in thought. “There must be some way out.”
They both lay flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, searching for an answer. So much was hanging in the balance. One night. It didn’t sound like much, but when it came to Mitzi, Grant didn’t want to sacrifice a single hour.
Mitzi bolted up. “Ted!”
Grant sat up, too, but quickly shook his head, catching her drift. “He wouldn’t do it. I don’t even feel comfortable asking him to.”
“Why not?”
“He’s already picked up so much of the slack.”
There was no hiding Mitzi’s disappointment. It shot like a spear through his heart. “But don’t you see? Ted is your secret weapon. One date with him and Joy Moreland will pack her father’s bags and they’ll head back to wherever they came from.”
Grant laughed. “You know, you might be on to something.”
“I speak from experience. After one truck ride with your brother, I was ready to hop on the next plane out of Austin.” She grinned. “And to make sure the plan’s a success, I might try to find Joy Moreland ahead of time. Just to make sure she and Ted really hit it off. Maybe I’ll suggest a long boat ride, and you could make sure they have an especially wonderful time by performing a little nautical sabotage.”
Downhome Darlin' & The Best Man Switch Page 29
