Down Home Dixie (9 page)

He still had too many clothes on. She tugged at his waistband, somehow pushed the fabric out of the way, and then the briefs underneath. When Dixie would have grasped him and pulled him closer, he seized her hands and pinned them above her head.

Then he settled over her again and let his weight bear down upon her so strongly that she couldn't move. He began to pump slowly, so slowly that she could barely feel it. Her instinct was to arch her back and push against him, but he was heavy and all she could do was lie back and enjoy each delectable movement.

She could not think of anything else except his strong, hard body moving against hers. And she gave freely, knowing nothing else, being no one else. In those minutes that she stretched into eternity, she was his. And he, more than any other time before, was hers.

How he managed to contain himself as long as he did was an amazement to her, since this way of lovemaking was exquisite torture. When she felt his increase in excitement, understood that he had reached that point of inner concentration where the outcome was assured, they matched each other move for move, two halves of the same whole.

Dixie had never merged her spirit with a man like this, had never known that exact white-hot heat throbbing from her core, and had most certainly never felt the oneness that she experienced afterward as they lay side by side, exhausted and complete. As she spiraled down from that incredible high, she caressed Kyle's chest with delicate fingers, marveling at the wondrous complexities of their mating.

“Dixie,” he said. “Oh, Dixie. We shouldn't let unimportant things come between us.”

“I don't care about Andrea,” she said fiercely. “She really doesn't bother me at all.” It was true. Making love with each other had vanquished all old relationships, hers and his.

“That's exactly how I feel,” Kyle said, and while she was preparing for further discussion that would define their relationship once and for all, he fell asleep in her arms.

Dixie smiled tenderly to herself. It was, after all, a discussion they could have anytime. She was secure in the knowledge that they'd covered a whole lot of ground in the past few weeks. They'd dreamed together, they'd misunderstood each other. They'd fought and made up. Declaring their feelings out loud could wait.

 

“I
GUESS WE MIGHT
be ready for those steaks that we never had,” Kyle said when they woke up. It was dark outside now, and she was cradled against his shoulder, their bodies tight against each other because of the restrictions of the small bed.

“Steaks?” Dixie asked.

“I went to the store and bought them today just in case,” he said.

She raised herself on an elbow and gazed at him. “Overly optimistic, weren't you?” she asked playfully. “Considering how things were going between us yesterday.”

Kyle shook his head. “I was sure we wouldn't continue on. All day it was as if—as if some vital part of me had been torn away.”

“Me, too,” she said softly. She laid her head back on his shoulder. “We've grown so close. At first, it seemed that we were moving too fast. Now, well, maybe it would be too fast with another person but not with you. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Yes, I do,” he said, a note of wonder creeping into his tone. He kissed her on the forehead. “We need to allow ourselves to be swept away. Otherwise—” He stopped, seeming to assess her reaction. “Otherwise, we're not fully living in the experience.” His arms tightened around her. “We had an affinity from the beginning. As soon as I met you, I already understood things about you that would take a long time to learn about someone else.”

“We can be who we really are with each other. That's important.”

“Very. And who I am is really hungry.”

She smiled, then sat up, or tried to. Instead she fell to the floor, forced out of the narrow bed at a most inopportune time.

Kyle grabbed for her but missed, and fortunately the cot was low, only a foot or so high. She landed gently, and before she knew it, he had rolled out beside her and was kneeling before her. He took her face in his hands, kissed her with unmistakable emotion, drawing her close.

“Sweet Dixie,” he said in the most heartfelt way imaginable. “I'm crazy about you.”

She was more than crazy about him but willed herself to be patient while they grew together into what she hoped would be a new life for both of them. Hadn't Kyle said that it was important for a couple to grow within the relationship? There was nothing she desired more, and she was determined to make that happen however she could. Kyle Sherman was a man worth waiting for.

They cooked the steaks on the outside grill and served them with a fresh green salad. It was warm enough to take their desserts outside and sit on the back steps to eat them.

“How did you know I love cherry cobbler?” Kyle said, digging into it with gusto.

“You like cherry-vanilla ice cream,” she pointed out, recalling the night when he'd made a special trip to the supermarket to buy it.

“I like cherry pie, too,” he said. “I stopped in at the Eat Right for some the other day.”

“Kathy Lou told me,” Dixie said.

“Kathy Lou,” Kyle said with a certain amount of resignation. “The Yewville town gossip.”

“She's not any worse than anyone else.”

“I can't do squat without someone telling you about it,” Kyle said.

Dixie smiled. “It works both ways.”

“I don't mind. I have no intention of doing anything I can't share with you.”

She set aside her dish of cobbler. “Have you ever made love on top of a picnic table?” she asked.

He started to laugh. “Honey, you're going to kill me with all this good lovin'.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“I could be talked into it. What about all these little acorns on the tabletop I noticed this morning?”

“You get a whisk broom and I'll bring a blanket,” she said, and she heard Kyle's laughter following her as she headed to the linen closet.

 

D
IXIE'S FRIEND
Joyanne showed up for a brief visit toward the end of the week and stopped by the real estate office to ask Dixie if she was free for lunch. These days, Joyanne preferred to be called Joy since she'd changed her name and gone Hollywood. Joy's new life sounded exciting, especially now that she'd signed on for the part of a pioneer schoolteacher in a new TV drama.

“We're going to start rehearsing in a couple of weeks,” Joy said. “Once we're in production, I won't get a chance to visit down home for a while. You have to promise to come to California soon, Dixie. I'm going to be moving out of my apartment, and then I won't have all that much contact with the guy upstairs. Remember, the Arnold Schwarzenegger clone? Plus, his name is slightly easier to spell than Schwarzenegger.”

“What is his name, anyway?” Dixie might as well show some interest in Joy's new life.

“It's Zeb Chance,” Joy said. “Plus, he's better-looking than Arnold. At least in my opinion.”

“What kind of name is Zeb Chance?” Dixie asked, fascinated by this penchant of Hollywood types to change their names.

“A made-up one. He's worked in a couple of movies as a stuntman, but his true passion is directing.”

“Why don't you go out with him?”

“Not my type. Wow, your teeth look great. So does your permanent eyeliner.” Joy stared for a moment.

“I had to go to Florence to get the eyeliner done. I'm glad you like it.” Dixie took a pocket mirror out of her middle desk drawer and studied her reflection.

“Anyway, looking the way you do must attract guys in huge numbers. Maybe you don't have a need to meet Zeb Chance. Though you did state that it's your intention to find a suitable spouse ASAP.”

“I merely stated that I want what most of our girlfriends have by now, a husband and pictures of our kids plastered all over the refrigerator. Acquiring a man is one of my priorities like it is with everyone else. I admit it, that's all.”

“Any new contenders?”

Dixie contemplated her manicure. “I've found a guy I like a lot. I hope you'll get a chance to meet him.”

“You mean, this Kyle that everyone's talking about? Is he husband material?”

“Maybe, and how did you hear about him? More to the point,
what
did you hear?”

“My mom mentioned him last week. She says the two of you are inseparable.”

“How'd she find that out?”

“At the Eat Right, I guess. Also, I ran into Priss at the airport. She said Milo told her about Kyle.”

“Milo only met Kyle once.”

Joy's eyebrows raised at that. “How?”

Dixie explained about Milo's dropping in. She didn't mention her adventures with Kyle on the sewing-room floor as soon as Milo left.

Joy listened with interest. “Milo told Priss to ask you over sometime so he can see you without Kyle. I guess Kyle's a permanent fixture by now, huh?”

“I'd like him to be,” Dixie admitted. “He's talking about moving here from Ohio.”

Joy laughed. “You're in the right business to facilitate that.” She waved at the home brochures stacked in the cubbyholes above Dixie's desk.

“I've only shown Kyle houses I'm sure he won't like,” Dixie said. “We went to look at another one yesterday. It had a loft reachable only from outside, and one of the two bathrooms had no toilet. I was positive he'd hate it.”

“What's the point, exactly?”

“The longer I take to find Kyle a suitable home, the longer he'll live in my playhouse.”

“Dixie! You're shameless! Anyway, unless he's a midget, that tiny little place must cramp his style. And a few other things besides.”

Dixie managed a sheepish grin. “Kyle's not really living there anymore, Joyanne.”

“Joy,” her friend corrected automatically.

“Sorry. It's hard to remember.”

“That's okay, I understand. So the man has moved into your house?”

“Most of his clothes now occupy the extra closet in my bedroom. I hope you're not shocked.”

Joy made a face at this. “After living in Hollywood, nothing shocks me anymore. I'm glad you've found someone, Dixie. You deserve the best.”

“Kyle is…well, he's wonderful. A real keeper. Oh, Mayzelle's driving up in front, so we can leave for lunch in a few minutes. I'll tell you all about it over banana splits at the Eat Right.”

“I'll have to order a fruit plate. My diet, remember?”

They had been eating banana splits for lunch a couple of times a month since they were thirteen, and Dixie hated to give up that tradition. Still, she understood that they'd both moved on in their lives, were learning new things, becoming attached to new people.

“All right, I'll have the fruit plate, too,” Dixie said with a sigh. “As long as you promise me you'll come over for dinner tonight, I'll forgive you about the banana split. I can't wait for you to meet Kyle. He's everything I ever hoped for in a man. Handsome, charming, smart, sexy—”

“Glad about the sexy,” Joy said, rolling her eyes.

Dixie grinned. “You'll like Kyle, I'm sure you will.” Like a kid with a new toy, she could hardly wait to show him off. Once she'd met Kyle, let Joyanne—Joy—tell Dixie that she needed to meet this Zeb Chance. Dixie was sure he couldn't hold a candle to Kyle.

Mayzelle bustled in, widening her eyes when she saw Joy standing there, and enfolded her in a big hug. “We're so proud of you, Joyanne,” she said. “Imagine a Yewville native becoming a big star! Why, next time you come home, I'll make sure we have a welcoming party. Like a parade with confetti and streamers on Palmetto Street? And you could ride on the back of the mayor's new convertible?”

Over Mayzelle's shoulder, Joy winked and grimaced in an expression that Dixie interpreted as “Help me!”

“We'd better hurry over to the Eat Right,” Dixie said hastily, standing and shuffling her papers. “There's never a booth available once people start showing up for lunch.”

Fluffy, bless her, chose that moment to heave herself to her feet and venture out from under Mayzelle's desk to beg for a treat, which afforded Dixie and Joy the perfect opportunity to escape. By the time they finished their lunch, which was interrupted by what seemed to be every friend and acquaintance that Joy ever knew before she left to pursue stardom, it was agreed that Joy would bring the salad for dinner and that Dixie would provide turkey breast and everything else. Dixie called Kyle on her cell phone to alert him, leaving a message on the home answering machine that he was sure to pick up when he got back from the hardware store where he'd gone to buy a better rake.

But when she reached home, lugging in the grocery bags by herself and wondering why Kyle wasn't there, she found a note he'd left on the kitchen table.