Almost Forever (34 page)

Clay nodded, waiting. And when she said nothing more, he prompted, “So what are you saying, then?”

Andrea waved a hand. “Oh, Clay. Maybe I don't know what I'm saying.” She thought of those three little words,
I love you,
which he'd never said. She decided she could live without them. She felt, since last night, that he was hers in a
deep and complete way. That he'd always been hers. As she was his. She was finally woman enough to accept that.

And to accept him.

And besides, eternal optimist that she was, she could still hope that he might change someday. That he'd allow himself to believe in love and to tell her he loved her. And then she might have the nerve to show her deepest heart to him as well.

“Andie.” The sound was impatient. “Talk to me.”

“I'm trying.”

“Try harder.”

“Don't push me.”

Only one thing held her back. The truth about Jeff Kirkland. She could marry without words of love. But she could not marry Clay unless he knew the truth about Jeff.

It would hurt him to know. And who could tell exactly how he might react? Knowing Clay, she thought he might insist on confronting Jeff. That wouldn't be good.

But it would be worse for Clay
not
to know. Jeff was his friend. The baby could look like Jeff. Or someday, God help them, Jeff might change his mind and want into the life of the child he'd helped create.

“Andie.”

“All right, Clay.”

“All right, what?”

“All right, I'll marry you.”

He stared at her, exultant. And then his eyes narrowed. “But what?”

“You know me so well.”

“But what?”

Andrea closed her eyes, drew in a breath and then gazed at Clay squarely once more. “But we have to talk about the baby's father.”

“No, we don't.”

“We do. Or there won't be any marriage. You can be as persistent as you want. But I won't back down about this. You have to know.”

“What?”
The word burst out of him. “What do I have to know? You want to tell me you still
love
him? Is that it? You still
love
the bastard who made a baby with you and then just walked away?”

“No, Clay. That's not what I want to tell you at all.”

Now he was the one drawing in a deep breath. Andrea watched him calm himself. “Then what?”

“You have to know who the man was, Clay. I won't marry you with this lie between us.”

He looked wary. “Now you
want
to tell me who he was?”

“When before I said I
couldn't,
I know. You'll understand. Once you know.”

Clay was watching her very closely. He had the strangest expression on his face.

And all of a sudden,
she
understood. She gaped at him and then she murmured, “You already know.”

“H
ow long?” Andie demanded. “How long have you known?”

“Andie.” His voice was coaxing. “Settle down.”

She wouldn't be coaxed. “How long?”

“Hell. For a while. A few weeks.”

“A few weeks.” She repeated his words numbly. Then she shook her head. “All this time. I've been worried, knowing I could never tell you, scared to death you might find out someday. And while I've been stewing, you've known all along.”

“Yes.”

“That Monday morning three weeks ago, when you came in with your face all battered and tried to tell me you fell off your tractor—”

“I'd been to see Jeff. Yes.”

“And he beat you up?”

Clay grunted. “Let's say we beat each other up.”

Andie found she couldn't sit still. She stood. “You fought. You had an actual, physical fight.”

“Yeah.”

“What happened? You tell me. All of it.”

Clay shifted in his chair, looking miserable. But he did explain. “Damn it, Andie. I'm not blind. And I can count. As soon as you said the baby was due in September, I started thinking about Jeff. And about New Year's Eve, when we all went to that party at Ruth Ann and Johnny's and you and Jeff left together.”

“How did you know I left with Jeff? You and your date were gone long before that.”

“Jeff told me. He didn't come back to my place until daybreak. And I asked him where he'd been. He said he took you home.”

“And what else?”

“I don't remember exactly. Some story about driving around, thinking. He said he'd made up his mind that he wanted to go back to Madeline, if she'd have him. And he did. He went back to L.A. that day.”

Andie still couldn't believe this. “So you suspected it was Jeff from the first?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn't you ask
me?
”

“Come on, Andie. The night you told me you were pregnant, you said you'd never tell me who the father was. I knew I wasn't going to get anything out of you. So I went to Jeff. I flew down there and we drove out to the beach together and I asked him point-blank if the baby was his. He admitted it was true.”

“What else?”

“He said you wanted to raise the baby on your own and that that was fine with him. All he really cared about was that Madeline wouldn't have to know.”

“And?”

“And so I told him I never wanted to see him again. That he was dead to me. He accepted that. And then he punched me. And we fought.”

“
He
punched
you?
”

“It was a favor. Never mind. You'd have to be a man.”

“Thank God I'm not. Who else knows?”

He snorted. “Knowing you, probably Ruth Ann.”

“Very funny. I mean, who else have
you
told?”

“No one. Come on, Andie. Who would I tell? And why the hell would I
want
to tell anyone?”

Andie was still standing, but she put her hands on the table and leaned toward him. She demanded, “What about the family?”

“The family least of all.”

Andie straightened, relieved.

He went on, “I think that the family believes the baby is mine.” His eyes made a slow, knowing pass from her face to her belly and back up. “And that's just fine with me. As far as I'm concerned, the baby
is
mine. From last night on.”

Andie stared at him. She still hadn't fully absorbed the fact that the secret she'd so carefully kept from him was no secret at all. He'd known all along. He'd already confronted Jeff. The worst had happened and she hadn't even realized it was going on.

Her knees felt funny, as if they might not continue to hold her up. And yet she couldn't stay still. She had to move. Just to give herself something to do, she picked up her dirty plate and flatware and carried it all to the sink.

Hastily, her fingers feeling awkward and thick, she rinsed the plate, the fork and the knife and bent to put them in the dishwasher. When she straightened again, Clay was behind her.

He laid his hands on her shoulders and spoke gently against
her ear. “Look. It's out now. There's no more secret, no more lie. Can't we go on from here?”

“Oh, Clay.” She turned until she could see his eyes. “I don't know. He's your best friend.”

“He
was
my friend. But some things can't be forgiven. He's dead to me now.”

Andie shivered. “I don't know how you can do that—just cut him from your life like that.”

He made a scoffing sound. “
You've
done it.” He looked at her sideways. “Haven't you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why shouldn't I?”

She gently put his hands from her shoulders and moved away. “It's different for me.”

“No, it's not.” He spoke from behind her.

She turned to face him. “It is. I only knew him for a couple of weeks over a holiday. I behaved…foolishly with him. I only feel relief when I think that I'll probably never see him again. He wasn't my friend. I had no history with him.”

“What the hell are you getting at?”

“That Jeff Kirkland is a very special person in your life. And he's not in mine.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Oh, Clay. Stop it. You actually had
fun
with him. I saw you. I'd never seen you laugh the way you did with him. It…astonished me. I saw you in a whole new light, during those two weeks when Jeff was here.”

“So?”

“So it's my fault that your friendship is destroyed.”

“It's not your fault.”

“At the least, it's half my fault.”

“He took advantage of you. He—”

“No. Don't you dare say that. Don't you dare try to make
me into Jeff Kirkland's victim. I wasn't. I did what I did of my own free will.”

“Fine. And so did he. And what he did, I will never be able to forgive. He created a baby, and then he just walked away. A man like that is no man. Even if you don't marry me, it will make no difference as far as my relationship with Jeff is concerned. I'll never see him again.”

Andie shook her head. She felt such sadness. “Oh, Clay. If you can't forgive
him,
how will you ever forgive
me?
”

“What the hell's the matter with you? Do you
want
me to forgive him?”

“I don't know.” She backed up against the L of the kitchen counter and leaned there. “I just can't help thinking that if I weren't in the picture, Jeff would still be your friend.”

“He had choices, Andie.”

“So did I.”

Clay moved toward her. “We're not getting anywhere with this. It's over. He's out of our lives. The best thing we can do now is go on. Make a good life together, give the baby the chance he or she deserves.”

“I just don't—”

“Look around you.” He made a wide gesture with his hand. “This house has four bedrooms and a study. And plenty of room outside for kids to grow in. I made some pretty good money those last couple of years with Stanley, Beeson and Means and I've used it wisely, I promise you. Half of all I have will be yours.

“And then there's Barrett and Company. I have expansion plans, sound ones. Next year, I intended to have you hire yourself an assistant. Now, with the baby, maybe we'll do it a little early. You can train the new person yourself and she—or he—can cover for you while you're out having the baby. In two years, we'll be ready to bring in another accountant, an all
around guy like me, but with a strong emphasis in tax accounting. That will free me up a little to court more large accounts.”

Andie watched his face. He looked so earnest now, as he talked about the future—a future he was offering to share with her. His generosity moved her deeply. She felt a kind of glowing warmth inside, a tenderness toward him, part admiration, part gratitude, part something she didn't dare give a name.

And within this special tenderness, the sadness remained. Clay had given up his best friend. And he was offering her half of all he had. All because she had been so very foolish and was determined now to raise the child she'd created.

Clay must have seen her remorse in her eyes. He misinterpreted it. “Look. Andie. If you decide you don't want to work anymore, we'll manage. You'll be difficult to replace at the office, but I'd be willing to—”

She would burst into tears if he said one word more. She touched his lips. “Stop. No more. Please.”

He wrapped his hand around hers and kissed the finger she'd used to shush him. “What is it? What's the problem?”

“Quit talking. Listen.”

“All right. What?”

“I do
not
want to give up my job. I love my job.”

“All right. Fine. That's great with me.”

“I still hate that you've lost Jeff. I feel guilty about it. I'll probably always feel guilty about it.”

“Forget about Jeff.”

I will when you do,
she thought. But there was no point in belaboring the issue anymore. “All right.”

He still held her hand in his. He pressed it against his chest. She felt the beat of his heart. “Marry me.”

“All right.”

He blinked. “I could have sworn you just said yes.”

“I did.”

“Are there any more
buts?
”

“No, there aren't.”

He wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her close. “You won't regret it.”

“I only hope
you
don't.”

“I won't.” He lifted her captured hand again and kissed her fingers once more. “I want to get going on this.”

He sounded just the way he did at the office. The thought made her chuckle. “I imagine you have it all planned out.”

“Yes.”

“Well? Tell me.”

“Tahoe or Reno. Right away, today. And then we'll rush back tomorrow night.”

“Because of the work load at the office?”

“Exactly. But we'll have it taken care of. We'll be married, you know.”

“Yes, Clay. I know.” She thought of glow worms, suddenly. Glow worms and fireflies. That was how she felt right then, like some little creature that glows all by itself. Her mind was swimming.

Her own adopted cousin had turned out to be the man of her dreams. And now they would be married. Clay would be her husband. The doubts that still nagged at her seemed to mean nothing right then. Right then, she just felt wonderful, to think that she would sleep beside him every night. For the rest of their lives.

“And then, at the end of April, we could take a trip,” Clay was saying. “By then, things will be quiet at the office and Dad can easily handle things alone. We'll go somewhere tropical, I think. Hawaii, maybe. For two weeks or so. We could spend a lot of time on a beach. And in bed…”

Andie blushed. “I see.”

“Well, then. What do you think?”

“I think yes. To all of it.”

“Good. Tahoe or Reno?”

“I like Tahoe better.”

“Tahoe it is.” He was stroking her back. “We should call and get a hotel, shouldn't we?”

“I'm sure.”

“And then maybe we should tell the folks.”

She thought about the family. They wouldn't like finding out about the wedding after the fact. Her mother and her aunt wouldn't like it at all. On the other hand, if they were told now—

“What?” Clay prompted.

Andie pushed the image of her mother's disappointed face from her mind. “After we get back. We'll tell them then. If we tell them before—”

Suddenly, Clay caught on. “They'll want to come. You're right. It will slow us down.”

She reached up and brushed his lips with her own. “Exactly.”

He caressed the side of her face, toyed with the shape of her ear. “We should get a move on.”

“Yes.”

“There's only one problem.”

“What?”

“I want to kiss you.”

“You do?” Something funny happened in Andie's stomach.

“We only made love once last night. You were so tired.”

She nodded. “I was. I conked out.”

“But you don't seem tired now.”

“Oh, I'm not. I'm not tired now at all.”

“We could spare an hour, don't you think?” Clay's voice was low, hoarse. It made her stomach quiver all the more.

Andie pressed herself against him, feeling wild and wonderful—and feeling that way with
Clay,
of all people. It seemed so sinful, to feel wild and wonderful with Clay. So
deliciously wicked. All those years he'd been her adversary. And now he was the object of her desire.

“Don't you think we could spare an hour?” Clay asked again.

Andie hastened to agree with him. “Oh, yes. An hour. Yes, definitely.”

And then he kissed her.

Andie drank in the taste of him. He swept her mouth with his tongue as he had before. But now she brazenly returned the caress, meeting each hungry thrust with a parry of her own.

Clay's hands were on the tie at her neck again. He worked swiftly, and the wrinkled blouse slid to the floor. Then he unzipped her skirt and pushed it down.

Soon enough, she was naked, just as she'd been last night. Andie quivered as his hands roamed her bare flesh. And he went on kissing her. Would she ever get enough of those kisses of his?

She doubted it. This making love was a miracle to her. She'd waited so long to find out what it was all about.

There was a couch, in the family area beyond the kitchen and the breakfast table. Clay led her there. Or rather, they somehow ended up there, kissing and touching and moving across the floor at the same time.

He pushed her down on the couch and said he loved to look at her. And he
did
look at her. Andie was too dazed with desire to blush.