First Lady (20 page)

Time to stake his claim.

As Nealy felt Mat’s hand on her shoulder, her heart began to race. One moment everything had been easy and fun between them, but in the space of an instant something had shifted.

She felt his breath falling soft against her cheek, and the brush of his fingertips on her chin was feather light. He spread his big hand across her back, and as he drew her close, she realized he was aroused. This, she remembered, was the way a man was supposed to feel against a woman.

She had to do everything right. She couldn’t bear having him say she kissed like a little girl. When she was younger, she’d known how. Surely she could do it now.

Self-control had been bred into her Litchfield bones, and as his mouth covered her own, she forced herself to concentrate. One thing was certain. Passionate women didn’t kiss with their lips sealed.

She eased hers open and angled her head a bit more. She needed to relax! But what about her tongue? She was definitely going to use her tongue, but how much of it? And when?

Mat felt Nell’s growing tension and started to draw away to see what was wrong, but some instinct made him hesitate. One moment she’d been soft and warm, but now she was stiff as a board. She seemed to be working at it instead of just enjoying what was happening.

He could almost hear the hinge on her jaw creak as she parted her lips. The tip of her tongue ventured forward, then stalled. He remembered that stupid comment he’d made last night about the way she kissed. For someone who knew a lot more than he wanted to about female psychology, he’d made an unbelievable blunder. Now he had to fix the harm he’d done.

Although it cost him, he drew back from that determined little hard-pointed tongue, grazed her earlobe with his mouth, and whispered, “Take it easy with me, sweetheart. A man can only handle so much.”

Her eyelids flickered against his cheek, and he knew he’d given her something to think about. Her body relaxed. She cupped his head in her hands and sealed her mouth right across his. This was a lot more like it. He smiled to himself.

She jerked back, her eyes stricken as she looked up at him. “You’re laughing!”

His stomach sank. He really was a jerk, even when he wasn’t trying to be. “You bet I am. Kissing you makes me the luckiest man in the world right now, and I’m celebrating.”

She didn’t look quite so agitated, but she did look suspicious. “Go ahead and critique me,” she said. “I know you want to.”

“What I want to do is get back to kissing you.” Screw it. He’d given sensitivity his best shot, and now he pulled her hard against him. Some men were better off just being jerks.

This time he didn’t give her a chance to get those mental wheels turning. Instead, he staked his territory and let her keep up.

Their kiss was deep and so lusty she didn’t have time to think about where her tongue was going because his was already there. He’d never been able to understand men who only wanted to get to the main event. He loved kissing. And kissing this innocent, classy woman was especially sweet.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and he slipped his hands under her top so he could do what he’d been wanting to all day.

Her skin was as soft as her mouth. He moved his palm up along her side, only to discover she wasn’t wearing a bra. Just like that, he captured the sweet, small mound of her breast beneath his hand.

She quivered.

He brushed the nipple with his thumb. She made a small, throaty sound. He lost control. No more slow seduction. No waiting until tonight. He had to have her now.

“Gah?”

He curled his free hand around her bottom. Her breathy, helpless sounds were driving him wild.

“Da?”

All day he’d been imagining her breasts, and now he had to see them. He pushed up her top.

“DA!”

Nell stiffened. Sharp little fingernails dug into his leg. He whipped his hand out of her top.

She jerked away from him. Her lips were wet and swollen, her cheeks flushed, her expression appalled.

Both of them gazed down at their infant chaperone, who was regarding them with all the disapproval of a Pentecostal church organist. Mat wanted to throw back his head and howl.

“Nah!”

Nell pressed a hand to that sweet breast he’d only just begun to explore. “Oh, my God. She knows what we were doing.”

“Damn,” he growled. “Now we’ll have to kill her.” He glared at the baby.

Nell dropped down and swooped her up. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should never have seen that.” Her eyes flew to his. “Something like that could traumatize her.”

“I sincerely doubt that.” Right now he felt a lot more traumatized than that baby.

She regarded the Demon earnestly. “You shouldn’t have seen what you did, Button. But you need to know there was nothing wrong with it. Well, almost nothing . . . I mean, we’re adults and not teenagers. And when a mature woman is with an attractive man . . .”

“Yeah? You think I’m attractive?”

When was he going to learn to keep his big mouth shut? She cuddled Button to her breast and regarded him critically. “I’m sure you think it’s silly to explain this to an infant, but no one really knows how much babies understand.”

“Somehow I don’t think that she’s going to understand this for a few more years.” He thought about throwing himself in the shower, clothes and all.

She returned her attention to the baby. “Mat and I are responsible adults, Button, and we know . . .” She paused just when he was starting to enjoy himself, and sniffed the Demon’s breath.

“She smells like . . .” She whipped some orange slime from the corner of the baby’s mouth and examined it. “She’s been eating
cheese curls
! Oh, God! She ate them off the floor. Is there any ipecac in that first-aid kit?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving that baby ipecac. Come here, Demon, before she threatens you with a stomach pump.” He took the baby, even though he was feeling less than charitable with her.

“But—”

“Look at her, Nell. She’s as healthy as they come, and a little floor dining’s not going to hurt her one bit. When my sister Ann Elizabeth was a baby, she used to eat pieces of gum that had already been chewed. It wasn’t so bad when she did it in the house, but she scavenged on the sidewalk, too.”

Nell blanched.

“Let’s go rescue the Waynes before Lucy can finish them off. And Nell . . .” He waited until she was looking at him fully, then he gave her his slowest, most dangerous smile. “As soon as the kids are asleep, we’re going to pick up exactly where we left off.”

L
UCY LOVED THE
Waynes. They were dopey, and Bertis had already lectured her on covering up a pretty face with all that makeup, but they were nice, too. The whole time Bertis had been lecturing, she’d been giving Lucy homemade cookies and patting her shoulder. Lucy especially loved the way Bertis kept touching her, since nobody but Button touched her anymore. Even Sandy had hardly touched her unless she was drunk and needed help getting to the bathroom.

Lucy liked Charlie, too, even though only a moron would wear socks with sandals. He’d called her Scout when she’d helped him move the picnic tables together.
A little more to the right there, Scout.

She wished she could give Button to the Waynes, but they were too old, so she was still stuck with Jorik and Nell.

She looked up from the silverware she’d been putting on the table and saw them coming toward her with Button. They looked funny, and she studied them more closely. Nell had a red mark on the side of her neck and her mouth looked puffy. When she saw that Jorik’s mouth looked that way, too, her spirits soared.

Nealy inwardly groaned as she spotted the knowing look on Lucy’s face. The teenager was too smart for her own good. She concentrated on maintaining a pleasant expression while she tried to figure out what had just happened to her. Even more important, what was she going to do about it?

America’s First Lady would have pulled out a yellow pad and come up with a plan, but Nell Kelly wasn’t as well organized. Mat intended to pick up where they’d left off, which was exactly what she wanted, too, but it was too soon. Wasn’t it?

She decided to worry about the food allergies Button might get from eating cheese curls instead of dwelling on the tall, gray-eyed man at her side who was turning her emotional world upside down.

“Why, look who’s here! Now, Nell, why don’t you sit there with the baby, and Mat, you go bring that cooler outside. Every time Charlie tries to lift anything heavy, his hernia kicks up.”

“You make sure you lift with your knees,” Charlie said. “Hernias aren’t anything to mess around with.”

Nealy smiled. No one ever talked about hernias in front of her.

“You look so familiar, Nell. She looks familiar, doesn’t she, Charlie? Have you ever been to Fort Wayne?”

“She looks like Cornelia Case, even though not
everybody
thinks so.” Lucy shot Mat a trenchant look just before he disappeared into the Waynes’ motor home for the cooler. “Now I’m stuck with a lame power drill.”

“Good gracious, you do! Look at her, Charlie. She looks just like Mrs. Case. Why, the two of you could be sisters.”

Nealy definitely didn’t want the conversation continuing in this direction. “I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to bring with me for dinner. We’re a little short on groceries.”

“Now, don’t you worry about that. We have more than enough.”

As the meal progressed, Nealy found herself thinking of all the state dinners she’d helped plan, formal affairs where each place setting held as many as twenty-seven items. Not one of them could match the pleasure of this evening. She and Mat kept exchanging glances so full of wordless communication it was as if they’d known each other forever. Lucy giggled at Charlie’s teasing. Button toddled around the table so she could visit everyone and, inevitably, found her way into Mat’s lap.

Nealy was entranced with the Waynes. Bertis had been a homemaker all her life, and her conversation was filled with stories about her children and grandchildren, her church, and her neighbors. Charlie had owned a small insurance agency and recently passed the reins to his oldest son.

The Waynes weren’t reluctant to share their views of Washington, and neither was Mat. Over the Dole fruit cocktail cake, she discovered that he was a political junkie who was very much disillusioned with the country’s elected officials.

By the time darkness settled over the campsite, she knew the Waynes were staunch patriots, but not blind ones. They rebelled at the idea of giving handouts to everyone who asked, but were more than willing to share all they had with those who were truly in need. They wanted the federal government to stay out of their private lives, but at the same time find a way to put an end to drug traffic and violence. They worried about having enough health insurance and expected Social Security to work for them, but didn’t want their children paying the economic price for it. Although Mat didn’t agree with them about everything, they found common ground in their opinions of politicians as ineffective, blindly partisan, self-serving, and willing to sell out the country to protect their own interests.

That view always depressed Nealy, even though she was used to it. She knew elected officials who fit the description, but she knew many who didn’t. And couples like the Waynes were America’s bedrock. Was a nation of cynics the best that more than two hundred years of democratic government could produce?

Still, Washington had reaped what it had sown, and she and Dennis had shared dozens of conversations over the years about this very issue. Although Dennis thought she was naive for someone who’d breathed the air of politics since birth, she believed the country was ready for a new species of politician. Sometimes she found herself daydreaming about running for office herself. The first rule she’d follow would be honesty, and if that made her a pariah inside the Beltway, she’d take her cause straight to the people.

Mat moved a knife out of Button’s reach. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Nell. For someone who has opinions about everything, I’m surprised you don’t have any thoughts about politics.”

Oh, she had a million of them, and she’d been biting her tongue ever since the discussion began. Still, she couldn’t resist making one comment. “I do believe a political life can be an honorable one.”

Charlie and Bertis shook their heads, and Mat gave a cynical laugh. “Maybe fifty years ago, but not now.”

Words sprang to her lips, dozens of them. Thousands! An entire speech on patriotism and public duty, complete with quotations from Lincoln, Jefferson, and FDR. Politics could be an honorable profession, and once again the urge to prove that nagged at her.

“Even now,” she said. “We just need a few more courageous politicians.”

They regarded her skeptically, and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from saying more.

Everyone pitched in to help with the cleanup, except Button, who was growing cranky from being kept up too late. Nealy had just begun to excuse herself to put the baby to bed when Lucy came out of the Waynes’ motor home. “
They
have a television,” she reported loftily.