He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on her hips. His thumbs idly brushed the side of her belly. “I know what you mean.”
“This feels so natural,” she said, smiling. “It’s as if our first kiss when we were kids was imprinted for life.”
Donnie took a deep breath and looked toward the ceiling. “I guess this is confession time.”
Her heart stalled at his serious tone.
“You weren’t the first girl I ever kissed.”
“You told me I was the first. When I was fourteen. You lied?” Kristin dropped her hands to his chest and pushed him away. He backed up a step, but even in the dim light she could see his grin.
“Who was the little witch?” Kris said, hands on her hips.
“Cathy Beaumont. We were six. She said kissing meant that we were married. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me this until after we kissed, then I started to cry because I thought that meant I’d have to live at her house. My mother was a much better cook than Mrs. Beaumont.”
His smile was so Donnie—the Donnie she’d loved for as long as she could remember. Her heart expanded within her chest. She stepped close enough to reach the buttons on his shirt. “Cathy moved away when we were in fifth or sixth grade, right?” she asked.
Donnie went still, but he said softly, “I think so.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to hurt her at this late date.” She undid the buttons quickly. “You know, invite her in for a free, hot-stone therapy then accidentally drop a rock on her.”
Donnie cocked his head. “You’d do that for me?”
“For me. I’m the jealous type.”
She separated the two halves of his shirt and gazed upon his bare chest. Very different from her memory. Broader, more muscular. A thick thatch of chest hair filled in the space between his small ruddy nipples. “This is new,” she said, running her fingers through the soft, silky mat. “I like what you’ve done with your chest.”
His chuckle rumbled beneath her fingers. “Thank you. They call it age.”
“And free weights,” she added. He worked at staying fit; she’d known that the minute she’d seen him in uniform.
Thinking about him at the gym made a tingle pass through her body, and the fire that had been banked ignited. If he was as good as she remembered… “Can we make love?”
Donnie shrugged off his shirt and started to undo his belt. “If you insist,” he said with a rueful grin. “On one condition.”
Kris’s gaze was glued to his waistline. “What?”
“You strip for me. The way you did that afternoon at the bordello.”
Kris’s face turned hot, and she swallowed noisily. She’d hoped he’d forgotten about that. “Uh…I don’t know. I’m not seventeen, and it might not be the same without a bottle of cheap wine first.”
With one quick jerk, he pulled the belt free of its loops. His jeans were loose and they inched down on his hips. She could see the line of his underwear. Red briefs?
Donnie seemed to read her mind, because he grinned and unzipped his pants. Yep, red.
“Nice undies,” she said. Her voice sounded strangled. She could hardly wait to see him without his jeans, but he didn’t give her the chance. He kicked off his shoes and bent over to remove his socks then strolled to the bed, where he fluffed up two already fluffy shams and made a backrest for himself against the headboard.
He flopped onto his back and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Do you need music?” he asked. Amusement—and something else—made his tone husky. “I could hum.”
The something gave her the courage to step toward the bed. “You could sing.”
Their gazes met—just the bed separating them.
Donnie cleared his throat and sang, “‘When years have passed and we look back on what we learned and knew, we’ll fondly say this was the place where our spirits grew. Gold Creek High, Gold Creek High…’”
She ripped off her blouse and threw it at him.
Laughing, he caught it in midair. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous, okay? That’s all that came to mind.”
Arms crossed at her chest, she shivered. Not from the coolness of the air but from the desire she saw in his eyes.
He took a deep breath and started again. Soft and low, a tune she hadn’t heard in ages but recognized immediately. Her favorite Beatles song, “If I Fell In Love With You.”
She lowered her arms and closed her eyes, swaying to the melody. Her long, peasant skirt caressed her bare legs like a scarf when she moved. She gathered a handful of material and lifted it to expose one leg then stepped onto the bed.
Soft, yet firm enough to let her move without losing her balance, the mattress provided a comfortable platform. She looked up at the starlit night framed by the skylight and lifted her arms as she twirled in small circles of her own. His song faltered momentarily, but he picked it up again, humming in places when he couldn’t remember the words. Feeling a bit dizzy, she stopped and faced him.
Their gazes held as she worked the waistband over her hips and let the skirt fall to her feet.
She glanced down to be sure she’d worn matching underwear. A skimpy pink bra that Andi had outgrown and white bikini panties with rose-colored butterflies.
He made a sputtering sound. “Hmm…hmm…hmm.”
Kristin turned from him, and looking over her shoulder, unhooked her bra. She’d never felt more exposed, or more sensual. Donnie’s unzipped jeans were showing the impact of her striptease. With a provocative laugh, she tossed the bra his way. It landed right where she wanted it to—across his zipper.
Donnie looked down and laughed. “Hell, yes, I’m turned on. Damn, girl, you’ve got moves.”
He sat up and extended a hand to beckon her closer.
This meant turning around and moving into the spotlight cast by the moon. Would he see the spidery lines left by her pregnancy? Or the veins in her breasts? Evidence that she’d borne another man’s child even though she had always been in love with Donnie.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice still deepened as if in song, but the words were slow and purposeful. “It’s as if you just stepped out of my memory.”
She moved closer, unable to stay back. “I’m not the same person I was, Donnie.”
“Neither am I, but this is who we are. And you’re amazing. Come here.” He patted a spot beside him.
She dropped to her knees and leaned down to kiss him. She watched the lazy, sensual way his eyes closed, and felt a yearning so great, she almost cried out.
Perhaps she did because Donnie answered by wrapping his arms around her bare back and pulling her to him. Her nipples—erect and sensitized—brushed against the hair on his chest. “Oh, Donnie, I need this so badly, but I’m not on the pill. I never could take it because it made me sick, remember? Tell me you have protection.”
He stretched to reach the bedside table. From a drawer he withdrew a shiny packet.
“Thank God,” she murmured. She closed her eyes and kissed him—giving in to sensations that took her to a place where nothing mattered except loving and being loved. Now and forever.
DONNIE AWAKENED with a start. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. In fact, he’d promised Kristin he wouldn’t, but making love two times in quick succession qualified as miraculous in his book, and he’d needed a few minutes to recover. And rejoice.
“Wonderful,” she’d whispered against his chest before closing her eyes, obviously replete.
Wonderful was too mild an adjective in his opinion. They’d bonded, swapping souls in the process. He’d known where she was at every second of their joining. When she’d climaxed, he’d been right there, too.
He turned his chin and squinted at the digital clock. Eleven thirty-seven. He let out a small sigh of relief. He didn’t want to face an irate Tyler and Zach a second time.
“Kris, honey,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair.
The wispy curls teased his nose.
“Too early,” she complained like a sleepy child.
&nbs
p; Too late. “I know, sweetheart, but Zach will be home alone if we don’t leave soon.”
She lifted her head, blinking. It only took a couple of seconds for her to get her bearings. Donnie knew the minute reality hit her—where she was and what they’d done.
“Oh,” she said, sitting up.
The realization that she was naked arrived a few seconds later—giving Donnie enough time to memorize the image of her perfect breasts bathed in moonlight. She clutched the sheet to her chin. “What time is it?”
“Time to take you home.”
She leaned across him for a better look at the clock then gave a small gasp. “We have to hurry.”
So much for sentimentality, he thought, watching her gather her clothes. She dashed into the bathroom. The door closed with a bang. Donnie felt a pang of regret. He wished they were an old married couple who felt comfortable dressing and undressing in each other’s presence.
Sighing, he rose and pulled on his shorts and jeans. He’d just stooped to pick up his shirt, when she flew out of the bathroom. “Quick. I don’t want them to see me like this.”
Them? “Like what?” he said moodily.
She froze. “Like this.” She touched her lips and ran her hand down the front of her blouse. “Like I’ve just experienced the best sex of my life.”
That eased some of his crankiness until she ruined his mood by adding, “Maybe I should jog home.”
“Like hell.” He buttoned his shirt without looking to see if the ends lined up. He wedged his bare foot into a shoe. “No date of mine walks home.”
“Not walk. Run. It’s almost midnight.”
“Yeah, but you’re not Cinderella,” he said, hopping on one foot when the tongue of the shoe blocked his effort. “Relax. I’ll get you home in time.”
She pointed at his shoeless foot and started to laugh. “Maybe you’re Cinderella, and the Forerunner was a pumpkin in another life.”
He finally got both shoes on and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
The car was cold, and he could see a glistening of frost on the roof as they backed out of the garage. Autumn was officially here. Soon people would be heading off to visit family and friends for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. More travel. And Donnie wouldn’t be a part of it. But the idea of leaving Gold Creek—and Kristin—no longer appealed to him the way it had.
“Would you still marry me even if I wasn’t running for office?” he asked. She was sitting upright, stiff and on edge.
“You have to run.”
Since there was so little traffic, he looked at her long enough to see that she was as serious as she sounded. “Why? I could still get my old job back.”
“No, Donnie,” she said emphatically. “You know you want this opportunity.”
“But what we have between us is great, Kris. The craziness of a campaign could—”
She interrupted him. “I came home to make amends for what I’ve done in the past and to show people that I’ve grown up. I’m not afraid to do this, so don’t even think about not running. You take on Magnus, and I’ll handle things on the home front. We do it the way we planned or we don’t do it. I’ll take my chances with Tyler’s lawyers and you can hire a housekeeper.”
He slowed to round the corner near her house. “But what about tonight? What did tonight mean to you?”
“We needed tonight to bring our relationship full circle. We parted with such anger between us that we never really healed. Now, we’re fixed. And now we can get on with our lives.”
It wasn’t the declaration of love he was looking for.
They drove in silence until he pulled into her driveway. Thankfully, there was no Mercedes waiting. She turned slightly and looked at him. Tears glistened in her eyes, but her chin lifted with resolve. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” She opened the car door and dashed away before he could even kiss her good-night. At the wedding. “At our wedding, you meant to say,” he muttered. “Our wedding.”
KRIS PEEKED from behind the curtain to watch the Forerunner back out and drive away. Tears clouded her vision and her throat burned.
Donnie was a good man, and he loved her—maybe even as much as she loved him, but Kristin knew what happened to people who lost sight of their dreams. He’d given up his chance to see the world. He deserved a chance to protect a corner of it. Gold Creek needed him as much as he needed this opportunity. Kris had ruined his plans once. She refused to take responsibility for that again.
Kristin closed the door of her bathroom and turned on the light. Her hair was a disaster. Her lips and eyes puffy, although not for the same reason. She splashed cold water on her face then dried it with a towel.
She sighed and said aloud, “Maybe when I’m eighty-four, people will point at me and say, ‘There goes Kristin Sullivan. One of the Sullivan sisters. Created quite a stir in her day, but then she settled down and did pretty good for herself.’”
At the moment, she couldn’t imagine how that might happen, but hopefully, she’d regain some optimism by morning.
The sound of a key in the door made her hurry through her ablutions. She stripped off her clothes and put on her faded chenille robe. With a deep breath, she reached for the knob and prepared to face her son.
She stepped into the hallway just as Zach and Sarge came toward her. “Hi, honey, how was your evening?”
He sighed wearily. “We watched a DVD at his mother’s. Blade Runner. It was okay.”
There was so much more she wanted to say. She ached to hug him, but she didn’t dare. “You’re probably pretty tired, huh? It’s been a busy week, and Aunt Jen is coming over at eight to help us pack. We don’t have to get everything moved right away, but Sam is going to have some carpentry work done here once we’re out.”
She flicked off the light and started for her room.
“Mom?”
She turned around. “Yes?”
“Is it true you and Donnie fell in love when you were about my age?”
She nodded. “His grandparents lived here, and I’d see him when he came to visit. I thought he was the cutest boy alive.”
“So you’re marrying him for real tomorrow? Not just to keep my dad from winning custody of me?”
Kristin sighed. The last thing Kris wanted was to have her son go through life with a mangled perception of love. But she couldn’t lie. And despite what she and Donnie had shared tonight, she didn’t completely trust her feelings. Love had let her down before. Badly.
“People get married for all kinds of reasons. Donnie and I care about each other a great deal. We’re trying to do something good for all of us. You and Lucas. And even Gold Creek. Donnie will make a wonderful sheriff.”
He shook his head and reached down to touch Sarge’s head. “Well, if you ask me, love sucks.”
He walked away before she could correct him, but she had to admit he had a point. Tomorrow she was marrying the love of her life, but she still didn’t know if she was doing it for the right reasons. What could be more pathetic than that?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZACH HAD ONLY ATTENDED two weddings in his life. His mother’s cousin’s when he was a baby, and last spring when his friend Ryan’s older sister got married. That turned out to be a mega party at the country club and Ryan got to invite four friends so he wouldn’t be bored.
Zach hadn’t found it boring, although he’d never have confessed that to his friends. He’d liked watching Ryan’s family. Especially when Ryan’s sister danced with her younger brother.
Zach wasn’t sure what to make of his mother’s wedding. For something that was supposed to be quiet and small, the preparation seemed to hum with a peculiar energy. By the time Zach and his mother had arrived at the old bordello an hour earlier, balloons, streamers, tables and chairs had been set up in the backyard.
Zach was glad they’d decided to leave Sarge at home—one tail wag and the pretty decorations would have been history.
“What if it rains?” he asked Andi’s husband. Jonat
han had enlisted Zach’s help to set up folding chairs in front of the lattice arch that led to what his mother called the “rose garden.” It was mostly weeds as far as Zach could tell.
Jonathan was an okay guy, and probably the smartest person Zach had ever met—except, maybe, his father. Zach wasn’t quite sure what he thought about Tyler.
“No chance. Barometer’s holding. Front’s to the north,” Jonathan replied. He straightened up and looked around. Only a few chairs remained in the stack that had been donated by the Garden Club. “I think I can handle this, Zach, but Jenny’s never going to finish that arch with the twins’ help.”
Zach didn’t like to admit it, but he got a kick out of the twins. They were so cute. It was hard not to laugh at Tucker’s antics, and Lara had the sweetest giggle.
“Gotcha,” he said, picking up Lara, who was trying to climb the ladder behind her mother.
The little girl let out a shrill cry—until she saw who was holding her, then she burst into excited chatter. Jenny looked down and smiled. “Hi, Zach. Thanks, honey boy. You’re a peach.”
Her smile made him feel good inside.
She was looping artificial greenery across the top of the weathered redwood trellis. The dark leaves were sprinkled with tiny white flowers. “Need some help?”
“Hand me another strand from the florist’s box?”
Zach put Lara down. She promptly set off after her brother, who was trying to tackle Harley, Andi’s puppy. Zach picked up the plastic wreath. It was pretty and the finished effect was nice, but he still didn’t understand why they were going to this bother.
“Why all this decoration stuff? You know the wedding isn’t like…real, you know.”
Jenny’s dress fluttered in the light breeze. It was sort of old-fashioned looking with long sleeves and lace under her throat. “Of course it’s for real,” she said, stepping down. When they were eye-to-eye, she said, “Zach, this wedding is the smartest thing your mother has done since she had you.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. Even though Jenny seemed to think otherwise, Zach knew why Donnie and his mom were getting married. Partly to look after Donnie’s kid and his house while Donnie ran for sheriff and partly so Zach’s dad wouldn’t take him away. But the question he really wanted to ask was why didn’t any man fall in love with his mother like in the movies? Even his dad wasn’t interested.
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