Bring Me Home for Christmas
Page 20

He pressed himself gently against her, just barely entering a little bit, then stopped and looked deeply into her eyes before pushing on. “I still love you, baby. I never stopped loving you….”
“Oh, Denny, I missed you so much….”
A small smile found his lips right before he drove it home. Ah, he’d been here before! His world went into a spin. Everything he was feeling, he knew he would feel with her. He watched her face. She bit her lower lip, moaned softly. Her hands found the hard muscles of his butt and pulled him more deeply into her. Then she lifted against him, held him tight inside her and everything clenched until her toes curled. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God….” she cried.
“That’s my girl,” he said. And that was all the endearment he could muster before he rode her hard, throbbing with his own pleasure. He didn’t think it would ever end, and by the time the cl**ax ebbed, he was weak. Breathing hard, he rested his face against her neck, giving her soft kisses while he held her, feeling her lips against his cheek.
“See?” she whispered. “You’re not cold anymore.”
He chuckled. He felt a little trickle against his face and when he pulled back to look at her, he found tears wetting her cheeks. He wiped them away with his fingers. “Honey, you’re crying. I went crazy… Did I hurt you? Baby, I’m so sorry!”
She sniffed back the emotion and blinked her eyes closed, giving her head a little shake.
“Becca? Regrets?”
“No, that’s not it. I was afraid I’d never feel that with you again.”
“Aw, baby… I’m sorry for all my screwups.”
“Me, too. But this time we have to talk about it, Denny. All of it.”
He gave her a light kiss, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her. “We’ll talk about everything, honey. I promise.”
They vowed to talk about everything, but not right away. They held each other close, skin to skin, occasionally stroking and kissing, coming down to earth. And it was while they shared this intimate closeness that it struck Becca with utter clarity that before they fell apart three years ago, Denny had been more than a lover, he had been her best friend. Even though she was at USC and he was in San Diego, he was her ballast, her rudder. It grieved her that she obviously hadn’t been that for him when he needed it, because she relied on him completely. She talked to him everyday; she told him everything, rarely making a decision without having a conversation with him first. Even those decisions that had little to do with him, like what subject to choose for a paper she was writing.
Then his mother became ill and he began to recede from her life until suddenly he was gone.
Now she wondered, had she been doing all the talking and too little listening?
“I can’t believe you thought I had a girlfriend,” Denny said. He was still in that perfect place inside her, though in his current condition he wasn’t going to achieve much beyond the comfort of closeness.
“I can’t believe you don’t have one,” she said. “In three years?”
He shook his head and nuzzled her neck. “You had boyfriends,” he said.
“No,” she corrected. “I hardly even went out. Then I met what’s-his-name about a year ago.”
“And you came up here?” Denny asked. “I guess, I don’t get that part….”
She gave a little huff of laughter. “More about all that when we’re not all hooked up like this. I don’t want anyone else in either of our heads.” She ran her fingers over his beard-roughened cheek. “If we’re going to try this again, you and me, we have to be more honest this time. About everything.”
“Oh, we’re going to try again,” he said. “And this time we’re going to get it right. I can’t let you go now. And we’re going to be more honest, but later.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Then he moved his h*ps a little, growing inside her, filling her. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then the other corner, then her neck, then her breast. Then in a slightly desperate whisper, he said, “Please, tell me we can talk later….”
She gasped as his lips closed around her nipple. When she let out her breath, all that came with it was her whisper. “Later works.”
They only dozed through the night, their hands and lips rarely caught in slumber. When Denny wasn’t making love to her, he was holding her close, whispering to her how much he loved her, wanted her, needed her in his life. Becca’s deepest sleep came right before waking in the morning and it was in some surprise she found Denny sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed, gently pushing her hair away from her face.
She opened her eyes slowly, yawned and purred.
“Tired, baby?” he asked.
“A little tired, but not sorry. I can sleep anytime.”
His laugh was low and deep. He kissed her again. “I made you some coffee.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“It’s Monday morning and I have a job. It’s probably a good thing, too—if I could stay in bed with you for a few days, I’d wear you out. But, after a week of having company and not spending any time at the farm, some of my work has piled up. Instead of staying out there for lunch, I’ll meet you at Jack’s. How’s that?”
“That’s perfect,” she said. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I’ve never felt better,” he said with a smile. “About a week of this and I still won’t be tired. But I might be dead.” He grinned at her. “There’s one thing you can tell me before I go, just to give me a little reassurance. Are you still on the pill?”
She nodded. “You’re safe.”
“I wouldn’t mind, you know. But it’s probably not a good idea to get ourselves knocked up,” he teased. Then he grew serious. “Becca, is your leg okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“I’m just fine. I go back to the doctor on Friday. I’m sure he’ll release me to travel.” A look crossed Denny’s face immediately and she interpreted it correctly. She put a hand over his. “That doesn’t mean I have to pack up and go, Denny. I don’t have a job waiting and I don’t think I’m going to have much luck finding one while I’m on crutches. There’s time.”
He smiled at that and gave her yet another kiss. “God, I hate to leave you.”
She laughed at him. “I guess this is why there are honeymoons. Go to work. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Becca was tired enough to have slept, but she couldn’t. There was something she knew she’d better do—call her mother. She might have said she’d call in a couple of days, but she had nearly hung up on her mother twice. She couldn’t let this fester. She might not always agree with her mother, but she loved her. She brought a cup of coffee to the bedside table, plugged in the phone and dialed.
“Hi, Mom,” she said. “I don’t want hard feelings between us. Especially over a guy.”
“Or guys,” Beverly said.
“You’re still angry with me,” Becca said.
Beverly sighed deeply. “I’m disappointed. I’m afraid you’ve made a decision based purely on romance, or the idea of romance, when you should be thinking long term. Practically. Because romance doesn’t last.”
“Please don’t be afraid, Mom. Honestly, I had so many doubts about Doug, I ran for my life. I admire some of the things he’s doing with his life, but I don’t love him. And no matter how much sense it might make to you, I am not marrying a man I don’t love.”
Beverly sighed again. “Of course you shouldn’t,” she relented. “I just never saw a hint of this reaction from you. Not in a year. It came as a shock.”
“I love you, Mom, but please trust me to know what’s best for me. Think of it this way—if I screw up, at least it will be my screwup and not a mistake based on your advice.”
In spite of herself, Beverly laughed. “Well, there’s that. But can I just say this, Becca? Either way, based on my advice or your own instincts, all I ever wanted was your happiness. Please believe that.”
“Thank you, Mom. That means a lot to me.”
“I do wish your instincts matched my best advice a little better.”
Becca laughed.
When Becca got to the bar for lunch, a glance around told her Denny wasn’t there yet. She took her place up at the bar in front of a smiling Jack.
“What’s your pleasure?” he asked.
“Diet cola?” she asked. “Denny’s coming for lunch. I’ll wait for him before ordering.”
“You got it,” he said. When he put the cola in front of her, he tilted his head slightly, looked a little perplexed, and said, “What’s different about you today? Something’s different.”
“Gosh, I don’t know,” she said. She ran a hand through her blond hair. “I didn’t do anything differently.”
He shook his head slightly. “No, something’s different, I just can’t… Ah! I know what it is! You’re in love, that’s what it is!”
She flushed.
Jack chuckled and gave the bar a wipe. “I’m teasing you. Denny stopped by the bar on his way out to Jillian’s farm and he was grinning so damn big, I wouldn’t let him off the hook till he told me what made him so happy. He said all it took was getting rid of his pals to get you two talking and it looked like maybe you could patch up any old differences and put your relationship back together. Got one over on you, didn’t I?”
She couldn’t help but smile at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” she said. “Weren’t you afraid you might embarrass me?”
“Nah. My opinion of Denny is that a girl couldn’t possibly do better. He’s the salt of the earth. Very much admired around here.”
“He fits in,” she translated.
“Denny’s special. But it doesn’t take so much to fit in, Becca. People around here are pretty easy most of the time. Good neighbors, that’s all.”
“It’s more than that, I think. Is it just that you don’t get all that many visitors? Because everyone seems so welcoming. Eager to help each other.”
“Oh, not everyone. We have our bad apples, just like any other town. We cut ’em a wide berth. But for the ones who want to get along, just about everyone’s willing to go the extra mile. Most people are here for one of three reasons—either they grew up here and it never occurred to them to leave or they came here for a specific career like ranching, farming, maybe logging or government jobs like forestry or search-and-rescue. The rest seem to be a little like me—I just wanted to get out of the rat race. I was looking for good hunting and fishing and needed a way to make a living while I was doing that. Getting married and having a family never figured in my plans.” He tilted his head and winked at her. “Good thing I can keep an open mind.”
“Good thing,” she said.
“There’s an old saying around the mountains—if you last three years, you’ll never leave.”
“Why is that?”
Jack leaned on the bar. “It’s not always an easy life. We’re isolated here. It’s a real pain just to get supplies, and if we have an emergency, we’d better be prepared to handle it. It’s not a rich place, by any means—the average income is pretty low. And nature has a heavy hand here—hard winters, forest fires, floods when the snowpack melts.”
“What’s so good about it?” she asked.
“Look around. Especially at night—look up. We have a pretty big sky. Lots more stars than in San Diego. The landscape is rich in natural resources and beauty. And we grow everything a little bigger. Even the marijuana.”