A Marriage Between Friends (15 page)

“I think…I think…” Jill swallowed her uncertainty from the other side of the bed. This was so much easier in her head. “I took your clothes off.”

“Thank God,” Vince said, holding out his arms. “Have at me.”

Jill would have run to him, but something in his eyes demanded she go slow and make him want it. She giggled, then laughed. “I’m not much of a seductress.”

“You’re seducing the hell out of me. I can’t wait for you to touch me.”

“Your eyes say something different.” She was at the corner of the bed now.

“I also can’t wait for you to take off something of your own, say, your top?” he asked hopefully. “It would give me something to look at while you undressed me.”

Jill shook her head. “Too distracting.” She stopped when they were toe-to-toe, so close she could feel his warm breath on her face. “Now. Where to begin.”

He glanced down. “Considering I’ve got no shirt and no socks on, I’d say you start with the button of these very tight pants.”

“You have such strong arms.” She ran her hands slowly over each one. There was power in his limbs that the damaged skin couldn’t hide.

“The pants?” he reminded her.

“Beautiful, really.” She ignored him, tracing a path up his left arm with her tongue. “This arm saved your life and kept you with me at school, where I needed you.”

Vince held very still.

Taking her time, Jill licked her way across his chest, then kissed the bullet’s entry and exit wounds on his right arm. “And this one saved your life, by taking the bullet that dragged you to safety so that you could come back to me. If I were you, I’d put these arms on display every day.” Jill looked up into Vince’s eyes, so dark and filled with unshed tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Jill’s throat felt too tight to speak, so she only nodded, finally having the courage to bring her hands down to his waistband. She’d been half in love with the idea of Vince before, and now she could imagine her love was reciprocated. Except a man like Vince would never settle for a relationship without sex. Jill didn’t care what he said to the contrary. All she had to do was free a button, urge a zipper down. Surely he’d do the rest.

“Don’t.” Vince’s hands covered hers. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“How do you know?” Jill buried the crown of her head in his chest. Her cheeks were burning.

“Because this should be about what
you
want, not what
I
want.” Vince sighed and set her away from him. “Turn around.”

Great. Vince didn’t want her to watch him walk out of here.

“Turn around, Jill.” Vince spun his finger in a circle and Jill did as he asked. “Now. I’m going to take my clothes off and get into bed. What you do after that is up to you. If you decide to go sleep on the couch and leave me here…my back will thank you.”

Jill’s cheeks rounded in a big, grateful grin. “How do you always know what…” Jill wasn’t sure if she meant
what was best for her
or
what she was thinking.
He’d certainly done both.

“I may not deserve forever,” he said, “but I’ve been thinking about you and me for a long, long time.”

Jill heard Vince slip beneath the covers. She should have realized he’d have thought through what she needed if their relationship ever became physical. He was always so considerate of others.

And when Jill turned around, Vince was just as she’d imagined he’d be, lying in bed with his arms propped behind his head, hiding his scars, that dimpled grin flashing at her. She could have stared at him for hours and been happy, if she knew he wasn’t wearing a thing beneath her quilt. And he was staring back at her.

“Your eyes are huge,” he said. “You look like a doe trying to decide what to do.”

“When have you ever seen a doe?” She took an involuntary step toward him.

“I saw one today.” Vince’s gaze shifted to the ceiling. “She was amazing. Do you know that when a doe looks at you it’s almost as if you can see right into her soul? I wanted to protect her from…from…I don’t know what. It’s the same way I feel about you.” His dark eyes swiveled back to Jill.

He watched the change in Jill with amazement. One moment she was uncertain, nearly slouching with hesitation, and the next she was a siren looking for satisfaction, her chest held high and proud before her. Bunny-rabbit pants. A soft faded-yellow tank top. To him it was the most enticing lingerie. He was tempted to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth in case he was drooling.

Not yet. Hold back. Keep quiet.
Vince’s fingers flexed in his hair, itching to touch her breasts, the flare of her hips, the curls between her legs.

“You’re staring at my bunny pants.” Jill began crawling over him like a cat, tucking the quilt tighter around his legs with each movement of her hands and knees.

“Not anymore.” He had a bountiful view of her cleavage.

Without another word Jill stretched out on top of him, pressing her body against his. The joy of looking at her was replaced with the ecstasy of her caressing him, of her mouth joining with his, of her hands exploring the exposed skin of his chest and arms. Only it was humbling how Jill touched him with such tenderness. It made him feel whole and forgiven.

If she only knew…

But Jill did know. He’d told her, fully expecting to be scorned and rejected, which would have made his leaving tomorrow that much easier. Instead, he’d discovered a love as strong as his. For Jill was loving him, strengthening him, bringing him to a place of peace he’d rarely been in his life until he knew her.

Vince had fallen under her spell like a greedy child who was finally going to be given a longed-for toy, had engaged in this strange stop-and-go foreplay, willing himself to be happy with whatever crumb she gave him, telling himself that he was healing her. What a huge, fat whopper of a lie. Jill was healing him.

A more noble man might stop here, gather his clothes and tell Jill that whatever they were doing wasn’t right. That she wasn’t ready. Vince’s fingers clung to the hair on the back of his head so that he wouldn’t touch Jill even when her breasts brushed his chin as she stretched up to kiss his forearms. Again and again.

It was hell being good.

Jill tugged at his lip with her teeth, sending a jolt of desire to an already needy part of his body.

But what if she
was
ready?

She wasn’t. Most women would have moved on by now, would have paid attention to his more vital parts. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful, but the slow rhythm of her movements over his hips had his balls aching, and he could see the swell of her breasts above her tank top and feel the tight buds of her nipples on his chest. He wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning, much less drive a stick shift.

Stop whining. You promised her anything.

And he’d deliver, even if it meant
not
delivering his goods, in return for this one night with Jill.

All of a sudden, Jill shucked her tank top and then lay that pair of beauties on him. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Vince moaned like the sex-deprived horny devil he was as Jill kissed her way down the side of his neck. If he opened his mouth any wider to speak, he was going to beg.

One of Jill’s hands slid behind his head, twining her fingers with his. She didn’t realize the Herculean effort it took not to flip her over and show her how two people really made love. She didn’t realize…

Vince froze as one of Jill’s hands slid beneath the covers, past his hip, over the top of his thigh and right into position as if she and his cock had previously been on intimate terms.

“You’re so soft,” Jill murmured, once again finding interest in his mouth.

“I’m hard as a rock,” Vince growled against her lips, fighting off irritability, his building tension and the bliss that she was finally touching him.

“I meant your skin. Down there.” She gave him a good feel followed by a roll of her hip.

“You have skin,” he said rather inanely, way past the point of logical thought.

There was a long pause filled only with heavy breathing—thank heaven not just his—and the sound of bodies moving against sheets.

“Then why don’t you touch me?” she asked in a small voice.

The hand she wasn’t gripping found one of her breasts, testing its weight and size in his palm. And then his hand was stroking fire through Jill, making her move with restless energy on top of him, making her want more. More of his touch. More of him pleasing her.

How? That was the burning question. Her cheeks were still hot from the mortification of asking Vince to touch her. But he’d done as she asked. He’d done as she asked. He’d done…

Jill moaned as Vince rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Lovers tell each other what they like with more than words,” he whispered, once more reading her thoughts. “Sighs…body language…changing position.”

She’d like to think what happened next was her body taking over. She slid onto her side next to Vince and arched her back as if to say kiss me there, where you just touched me with your hand.

“Making love is about giving and taking,” Vince continued, barely flashing her a smile before bending his head to her breast and showing her how good giving could be.

All Jill could think about was the taking part. It had been years before she’d worked up the courage to buy a vibrator. Months to feel comfortable enough to use it on herself while envisioning Vince’s face—because he was the only man she felt safe with—and several more to get it right. Now all she wanted was to take what Vince offered, live and in person.

His hand had moseyed down to the waistband of her pants, his thumb teasing beneath the edge.

Jill tensed, suddenly flooded with memories of Craig, of rough hands and harsh words, his body pressing her into the couch, telling her it was too late to stop, too late to change her mind. She couldn’t seem to breathe.

But Vince’s hands danced higher, his lips moved from one breast to the other. Vince was gentle, his touch loving, respectful. Jill relaxed, drew in some much needed air. Craig, Jill realized, had no place in her bed when Vince lay beside her. She loved Vince. How could she not when Vince knew her better than she knew herself? This was her husband, and she’d be damned if she’d let Craig steal another night from her.

Jill squirmed, trying to free her hands, which were tangled with Vince’s body, with sheets and blankets.

“Talk to me.” Vince pulled back and gave her space, along with a look that was both sad and concerned.

“I can’t get these pajamas off.” Jill rolled onto her back, twisting and kicking until the bunny pants went sailing across the room. “Now I’m ready.”

“I’m afraid to ask for what.”

Jill slid beneath the covers, rolled her naked self completely against his warm, loving body and said, “For everything you promised me on my wedding night.”

“One perfect night.” Vince took a good look at Jill. “I don’t want to scare you, but I’m not a missionary type of guy.”

“Me, neither.” Jill hoisted herself on top of him, suddenly in charge.

“A
RNIE TOLD ME
about your deal,” Jill said, limbs tangled with Vince’s as the gray light of dawn streamed into the windows of her bedroom.

After a night of stop-and-start lovemaking—pausing as soon as Jill began to feel uncomfortable and then resuming when she was once more in control of her emotions—they’d woken up hungry for each other about twenty minutes ago. With one hand still between her legs, Vince’s craving for her was just as strong as ever.

“I meant to mention it,” Vince lied, except it wasn’t exactly a lie since he
had
meant to talk to her about it at some point. He’d just gotten sidetracked.

“You didn’t have to do that for me, but thanks, anyway.” Jill snuggled closer, unaware that her words caused a knot of apprehension in Vince’s gut.

What had Arnie told Jill? It sounded like he’d implied Vince had passed on the project.

“That’s what love is about, isn’t it? Sacrifice. Compromise.” Her breath wafted over Vince’s bare skin, but it was her words that gave him goose bumps.

“You love me?” Vince should have been drawing Jill to him, but that bit about Arnie still nagged.

Jill sighed. “Some people need the words.” Then she pinched his rib cage. “I know you love me.”

“Great, sure,” Vince blurted. “Now let’s get back to Arnie.”

She looked at Vince as if he’d sprouted an abundance of nose hair. “Yes, but you couldn’t have known I loved you. I didn’t know it myself until yesterday.”

Yesterday. Lies. Let it not be true. “About Arnie—”

“No.” Jill sat up, taking the sheet with her to cover her breasts. “I refuse to bring Arnie into this. There are things that a woman holds sacred—her wedding day, the birth of her children and the moment she exchanges
I love yous
…though not necessarily in that order.”

Vince gazed up at Jill, drank in her mussed-up hair and the spark in her blue eyes. He knew this would come. The end. Because Arnie…Arnie had said something to Jill and based on that, she’d decided she was in love with Vince.

Just one night. He’d always known it would be just one night.

“For once,” Jill said. “For once I want that special moment without a caveat. Is it too much to ask?”

Vince shook his head. He couldn’t give her that. Not today. Not ever.

“Say something. Why don’t you say something?” No longer whispering, Jill was cranking up the volume.

“I made Arnie an offer yesterday morning,” Vince admitted. “But I don’t think that’s what Arnie told you, is it?”

Blinking rapidly, Jill shook her head.

“What did Arnie say, Jill?”

She hung her head, auburn tresses hiding her face. “Something about how he thought our businesses
could
have complemented each other.”

Vince was going to kill Arnie.

“I thought you gave everything up for me,” Jill said in a small voice.

The morning was chilly. Vince hadn’t realized it before. Now everything was sharp and clear. Vince knew why Jill had come to him last night. She’d assumed he’d passed on the casino and done so because he loved her. And that had made her think she was in love with him.

“Is that why you were planning on leaving?” she asked, lifting those sky-blue eyes to his. “Because you had a deal with Arnie?”

“Yes.” Vince should have gone yesterday. Then he wouldn’t have had to watch Jill’s heart breaking.

“You’re still planning on leaving.” Not a question.

“Yes.” Vince reached for Jill’s hand, unable to curb the compulsion to help her when he was dying inside. He was used to rejection. He’d survive. “You don’t love me. Not really.”

She shook off his hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do,” Vince said sadly. “You need my wedding ring, not me.”

“I just told you I loved you.”

“Only because of something Arnie said. You thought I gave up everything for you and I didn’t.” Vince swallowed. He’d live at least another ten years replaying this morning in his head, knowing he did the right thing and hating himself for it.

“Last night—”

“Was a milestone in your recovery.” Vince rolled out of bed, found his boxers and pants and pulled them on. He couldn’t look at Jill and pretend he wanted this to be over. Vince needed his shirt, but he’d left it in the living room. He felt so exposed. “I can’t see you moving back to Vegas. Can you imagine me staying up here?”

She chose not to fill the painful silence for what seemed like hours, while Vince gathered his memories of the night, of Jill, of what made her smile and what made her sigh.

Jill finally decided to play along. Her voice shook, but there was a note of strength there that had been missing before. “You’d never fit in here. Not with those suits of yours. You’re right. It’s best if you do leave now. After all, I don’t want to be one of those pathetic women who expects more than one night.”

“Jill, don’t.” Vince turned around. He had to see her face one last time.

“Don’t? Don’t what?” Jill had risen to her knees, the sheet still clutched under her armpits, a contemptuous curl to her mouth. “Don’t make this awkward scene any more painful for you? I hadn’t realized I was your special little sidebar project while you were in town. What were you going to do this morning? Drive off without telling me the truth?”

Vince knew it was time to go. But his feet weren’t as convinced, maybe because his brain was clamoring to be heard, demanding he drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. But who was he kidding? He didn’t have the guts. He’d failed at everything. Jill didn’t love him. His grandfather didn’t respect him. The casino deal would fall through.

“Get out.” Jill sank down and turned away. This time, Vince did as she asked.

J
ILL NEVER KNEW
how she made it through the hours after Vince left. She had breakfast for twenty to make and a little boy to see off to school on the bus. She smiled. She chattered away with her guests, telling them where the best shopping was on the trip back down the mountain. No one guessed her heart was breaking.

Even after the last credit-union guest left, Jill kept going. There were beds to strip and remake, rooms to clean, loads of laundry to be done. If she stopped, Jill suspected she’d never be able to finish things up in time for the nuns arriving the next morning.

Teddy came home from school and called Edda Mae. Jill paced the apartment while he gave her all the news, dreading that she had to tell him Vince was gone.

“Moonbeam got out and chased the postman to the front gate before he realized it was only a little dog and chased her right back up to the porch. At first, Edda Mae was going to spank the postman, but she just scolded Moonbeam.”

Throat shut nearly as tight as a clam, Jill managed to force out a high-pitched chuckle.

“When is Vince coming back, Mom?”

“He’s…” Jill took a deep breath. “He’s not coming back.”

Eyes scrunched, Teddy didn’t say anything for a second or two. “Ever?”

“I…no.” Jill sank onto the couch and stared out the window, brought down by a feeling of loss so deep it was as if someone dear to her had died.

Maybe someone had. Maybe it was her fantasy Vince that had been eradicated this morning.

“Did you know girls can get chicken pox in their eyes?” Teddy asked in a small voice. He’d been so sure that Vince would be his dad. “Edda Mae says that’s where Maria’s got them. That’s so wicked. I hope she keeps them until Halloween.”

Jill had to bite her lip to keep from crying. She could always count on Teddy to try to keep her spirits up.

It wasn’t until later that night when she was showering that Jill broke down and sobbed. She lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the shower until the water ran cold, trying not to believe that Vince was Craig, only with a smoother approach and longer timeline.

“V
INCE
? S
AM, IT’S
V
INCE
.” With a huge grin, Annie Knight leaned her very pregnant body forward to give Vince a hug. “Did you just get back? Did you make your deal? Can you stay for dinner?”

“Annie, let the man in before we air-condition the whole neighborhood.” Sam appeared behind his wife and waited for the front door to close before he gave Vince a back-slapping man hug.

The couple led him into a comfortably casual living room with an overstuffed couch—respectably long and deep—and leather recliner facing a big-screen television. Maddy, their six-year-old daughter, was playing blackjack with herself on the coffee table.

“Uncle Vince!” When she saw him, the future blond knockout raced over to hug Vince’s leg.

Vince hadn’t spent a lot of time with Sam and his family in the past year, but they’d vacationed together at Lake Tahoe the previous June, and Sam’s ladies had won Vince over permanently.

“Do you like my new dress?” Maddy tugged at the hem. “It’s got the queen of hearts everywhere. Did you know the queen is a ten in blackjack but a twelve in solitaire?”

“What about the king of spades, midget?”

“Ten and thirteen.” Maddy spun around so her skirt flared out, then leaned in to his leg again and sighed. “Cards are so much fun.”

Given the fact that her mother and grandfather had both been professional gamblers, Maddy’s fascination with games of chance was no surprise. Her innocent enthusiasm reminded Vince of Teddy, making his smile that much harder to hold on to. “What about counting? I thought you loved counting.”

“I love counting cards!” She laughed and skipped back to the coffee table.

Annie was reclining on the couch, positioning pillows on either side of her humongous belly. “Sorry. The doctor says I need to be horizontal as much as possible so the twins don’t arrive too early.”

“They look like they’re going to be here tomorrow,” Vince said, eyeing her with trepidation.

“Is your smooth compliment payback for me beating you at blackjack this summer?” Annie said, tossing her chin in the air.

“As I recall, I beat you the second round,” Vince pointed out.

“Oh, we both know I threw that game because I love you so much.”

“Pity for my card-playing skills is more like it.”

“Did I hear the doorbell?” Ernie, one of Annie’s honorary uncles, appeared in the hallway wearing madras shorts and a Grateful Dead T-shirt. He rubbed a hand over his stubby gray hair. “Vince, you’re back.”

“Good to see you, too.” Vince gave Sam an inquisitive look.

“It was our turn to take him in.” Sam sounded pained. The washed-up gambler never seemed to make enough money to stay afloat for long.

“I’ve got a legitimate job,” Ernie countered.

Sam and Annie exchanged meaningful glances that Vince couldn’t interpret. Reminded of his brief closeness with Jill, Vince looked away. Why had he felt compelled to stop here?

“Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Coffee?” Sam stood and headed toward the kitchen before Vince could find an excuse to leave.

“Coffee would be fantastic.” Vince trailed after him.

“You look like hell,” Sam said, taking in Vince’s rumpled clothing once they were in the kitchen.

“I just drove back from Northern California.” More than nine hours of driving had cramped Vince’s muscles again, but that pain was nothing compared to what Jill must be feeling. Vince couldn’t stop wondering how she was. “Drove straight through.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes.” He’d found his wife and made her love him, if only for one night. But it was over. Vince couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Jill deserved someone whole and true. He couldn’t even honor his wedding vows.

“Where is it?” Sam asked, filling the coffee grinder with fresh beans.

“What?”

Sam spoke slowly, as if Vince were an idiot. “Where is your casino going to be built? We are talking about your new project, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“You are so full of it.”

“I did make an offer. It’s in Railroad Stop, California.”

Sam frowned. “Why does that sound familiar? Where is that?”

“Gold country. Very remote. Beautiful really.” Vince smiled ruefully. “I hope if the deal goes through, the developers don’t take away its small-town charm.”

Sam stared at Vince without speaking.

“What?”

Sam shook his head and turned on the coffee grinder. The smell of coffee wafted through the air, bringing back memories of Edda Mae’s hot brew, of Edda Mae’s stories and her squinty-eyed stare.

“What?” Vince repeated.

Sam poured the grounds into the coffeemaker. “You’ve just never really cared about any place before. It makes you sound grown-up.” Sam stared at Vince again while the coffee began dripping into the pot.

“What now?” Vince demanded.

“I keep expecting you to call me a choice word.”

“Like overinquisitive? Nosy?”

“Something more R-rated. Jeez, what happened to you?”

Wonderful. Now even his best friend didn’t like him.

“He fell in love,” Annie called from the next room. “Can’t you tell? He looks like he’s got the stomach flu.”

Sam chuckled as he got down two man-size mugs. “Ignore her.” Then he looked at Vince and did a double take. “She’s right.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t do love.” Vince glanced at his left hand. What was he going to do with his wedding ring?

Sam snapped his fingers. “It’s
her
. Your wife. That’s why Railroad Stop sounded familiar.”

“I showed you Jill’s photo one time when we were in Iraq. How would you remember something like that?”

“I’m a private eye. I have a killer memory,” Sam said with a sly smile. “Shall we break out a bottle of champagne?”

“He’s not happily in love, sweetheart,” Annie called.

“She’s on the couch and she can pick up a signal out here,” Sam muttered.

“Offer him whiskey,” Annie said.

Vince shook his head. “Coffee will do. I’m not in love. In fact, I’m thinking about moving.”

“I’m sorry, man. If you want to come over later and watch football or something, let me know. You logged in enough hours with me when—” Sam raised his voice so his wife was sure to hear him “—Annie got all crazy and tried to leave me.”

“True love is like friendship, sweetheart. Sometimes you just need a little space.”