My Man Pendleton (44 page)

"Wait," she said.

"Wait?" he repeated incredulously. "But I came all this way just so you and my tattoo could become intimately acquainted."

"Hold that thought."

She smiled as she turned her back on him, and he had to admit that observing her from this new angle had its advantages. Hey, what could he say? Kit had a great tushie.

"I found something else when I was violating your boyhood domain the other night," she told him. "Something that might come in handy now."

He watched as she moved toward the bookcase and briefly scanned the shelves before removing a copy of
Carnal Knowledge.
After opening it, she withdrew a length of condoms and dangled them from thumb and forefinger for his inspection. Oh, man. He'd forgotten all about those. Talk about your wishful adolescent thinking.

"Those have got to be fifteen years old," he told her.

"Yeah, but latex means never having to say you're sorry, doesn't it?"

"I don't know. Does it?"

"Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

She replaced the book and strode naked toward him, and just like that, Pendleton was hard as a rock and ready to roll. Unbelievable. Never had a woman had such an immediate, unequivocal effect on him. And he wondered then if he would ever get enough of Kit McClellan.

Probably not, he decided as she came to a stop in front of him. So it was a good thing they had the rest of their lives to enjoy each other.

She swung the band of condoms in front of his face and said, "You pick."

He closed his fist around them. "What happens if the one I pick turns out to be too old to rock and roll? What if it breaks? What if you wind up pregnant?"

She cocked her head to the side and eyed him with much consideration. "What if I do?"

Something warm and wonderful welled up inside him. "So you want to have kids?"

She cupped a hand over the tattoo, stroking her thumb back and forth across it in a way that made his heart race like the wind. "Yeah, I do," she told him. "If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon wait a couple of years and have you to myself for a while. But if it happens before then
…"
She shrugged. "I think it would be a lot of fun to have a couple of little Pendletons running around the house."

"Well then," he said, tearing the first packet free from the chain, tossing the others over his shoulder, "say no more."

So she didn't. Instead, she smoothed her hand across his tattoo one final time, then skimmed it over his heart, up along his throat, and into the hair at his nape. And with a gentle nudge, she urged his head down to hers, and as she kissed him deeply, she backed both their bodies toward the bed.

Somehow, between the two of them, they stripped the bedspread, sheet and blanket down, then Pendleton folded his body over Kit's as she leaned back on the mattress. The moment they were prone, however, he rolled to his back, pulling her atop him. He flattened his palms over her shoulder blades, ran his fingertips along her spine, curled his palms over the twin curves of her fanny, dipped his fingers deftly into the crease that separated them.

"Oh," Kit murmured against his mouth. "Oh, Pendleton."

Hastily, he sheathed himself in the condom, then he lifted her hips over his rigid length and guided her down. The moment he was inside her, Kit straightened, arching herself forward as she reached backward to cup him in her fingers. He groaned out loud, filling his hands with her breasts, thumbing the velvety peaks to ripening. And then he moved inside her. Again and again and again. Kit caught his rhythm easily, matching her body's motions to his.

Incandescence. That was what the two of them created together. And the fire built, higher and higher, until it threatened to consume them both. Just when Pendleton thought he would burst with the extremity of it, Kit cried out above him, stilling as a shudder rocked her body and went crashing through his. And then, he, too, fell silent, as wave after wave of euphoria washed over him. For one interminable moment, their slick bodies felt fused as one. Then Kit slumped forward, burying her face in his neck, and Pendleton wrapped his arms around her waist, fully intending to never let her go.

When they finally found the strength to move, she rolled from atop him and nestled against his side. He curled an arm around her neck, covered her breast with his hand, and pressed his lips to her temple. For long moments, they only lay in silence, catching their breath, collecting their thoughts. And, with one final sigh, Pendleton smiled.

"Do you know," he whispered breathlessly, "how many times I lay in this very bed as a teenager and envisioned some big blond under the covers with me?"

Kit smiled as she cupped her hand over the tattoo on his chest, but she said nothing.

He rubbed his cheek affectionately over the crown of her head, curling his fingers into her hair. "I love you, Katherine Atherton McClellan."

She propped herself up on one elbow and gazed down into his face. "And I love you, Rocky Pendleton."

He grinned. "Hey, you said my name without laughing."

She grinned back. "Yeah, well, I guess I should get used to it. You're going to be my husband after all. Still, you won't mind if I call you Pendleton, will you? I've kind of gotten used to it."

He shook his head. "I don't care what you call me. As long as you promise to have me and hold me till death do us part."

"Oh, I definitely intend to have you and hold you. Over and over again. It's going to take more than a little thing like death to keep me away from you."

He reached up to thread his fingers through her hair, over her cheek, along her jaw, across her mouth. "Then there's just one thing left to settle," he finally said.

She inhaled a shaky breath, then released it slowly. "The wedding date," she said softly.

He nodded. "The wedding date. Your call, Kit. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you all the way."

She ran her fingertip over his lower lip, smiling when he gave it an affectionate nip. "You'd take me even without the Hensley millions?" she asked.

His gaze fixed with hers. "You know I would."

She nodded. "Yeah, I do know that."

"Then it's your choice. You do whatever you have to do."

She continued to study him in silence for a moment, then she nodded again, slowly. "Okay," she said. "I will."

* * *

It was a beautiful day for a wedding. Kit stood before the mirror in her bedroom at Cherrywood, turning first to the left, and then to the right, as she observed herself in the cheval mirror one final time. Her bridal gown was a simple, ivory silk, sleeveless sheath, her only accessories a pair of tea-length, ivory silk gloves and the pearl necklace and earrings her mother had given her upon her high school graduation. Her hair was a mass of glimmering dark gold curls, and her face…

Kit smiled at the reflection in the mirror. She was, to her way of thinking, very,
very,
beautiful. And she was all set to go downstairs and marry the man she loved. The man who loved her.

Her man. Pendleton.

A quick knock at the door alerted her that the time was nigh. "Kit?" Holt called out from the other side. "The minister's here. You all ready?"

Oh, she'd never been more ready for anything in her life. "You bet," she called back.

When she opened the door, Holt's expression softened. "You look beautiful," he said with a smile.

She smiled back. "Yes, I do, don't I?" Then, with a quick perusal of her brother in his dove-gray morning wear, she added, "You don't look so bad yourself. If it weren't for the fact that Pendleton is such a spectacular specimen of manhood, I'd say there's a chance that the best man was going to outshine the groom today."

Holt thought about that for a moment before saying, "Thanks. I think."

"You're welcome."

"Where's your bouquet?"

"My maid of honor has it."

His expression clouded with confusion. "You have a maid of honor? This is the first I've heard about it. She wasn't at the rehearsal last night."

"No, she wasn't able to make it," Kit said easily as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "She had another appointment last night."

"Well, who is she?"

With a delicate tug on her gloves, Kit pushed past her older brother. "She's downstairs. Come on."

Still gazing at his sister suspiciously, Holt crooked his elbow, and Kit graciously linked her arm with his. Then, together, they descended the stairs. Clearing the kitchen was something of a challenge, seeing as how a bevy of caterers was in there putting the finishing touches on a wedding feast to serve the fifty-odd guests seated outside. But without so much as a misstep, Kit and Holt survived the press, and made their way through the back door.

Beneath a cloudless sky of perfect azure, the backyard glittered like an emerald. And there, in the farthest corner, amid Lena Hensley McClellan's celebrated rose garden, was a wedding party that awaited the appearance of the bride.

Sister and brother strode forward, and Holt nodded at the chamber ensemble as they neared. Immediately, the delicate chords of Pachelbel's Canon lifted into the air.

"Oh, there's my maid of honor now," Kit said, lifting a hand to wiggle her fingers in greeting at the woman who approached.

She saw Holt follow her gaze, noticed how his mouth dropped open in surprise, and watched as his lips slowly curled into a smile. Faith Ivory did look stunning, Kit had to admit. Her lavender tea-length dress, otherwise identical to Kit's gown, suited her well.

"Hi," she said softly when she drew alongside Holt. She dropped and lifted her gaze a few dozen times, then smiled shyly.

"Hello," Holt greeted her back.

But, being the goofy older brother that he was, he said nothing more. Funny, Kit thought, how she'd never noticed that Holt was so prone to blushing.

"You're Kit's maid of honor?" he finally asked, dispelling the awkward silence.

Faith nodded coyly.

His gaze ricocheted from her to Kit and back again. "You'll forgive me if I find this development a little surprising. I didn't realize the two of you were even acquainted, let alone friendly."

This time Faith was the one whose glance flitted from face to face. Ultimately, however, her attention lingered on Holt. "Yes, well, your sister can be very
…
persuasive. About a lot of things."

Sparing a brief glance toward Kit, Holt replied, "Yeah, she sure can be." Then he returned his attention to Faith. "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too. It sounds crazy, but I've really missed you. Funny, isn't it? Since we hardly spent that much time together. I still missed you."

He shook his head, lifting his hand to skim his fingers lightly over her cheek. "That's not crazy. I missed you, too. Will you stick around for a while this time? Find out how things are going to develop?" He smiled. "Even if it is a conflict of interest for us?"

"It's not a conflict of interest anymore," she said. "I quit my job with the Temperance League. I'd like to start practicing law again."

"You'll have to tell me all about it."

She smiled. "I will. In fact, I think we have a lot to talk about."

He smiled back. "Good thing we have a lot of time to do it."

Kit cleared her throat as unobtrusively as she could. "Yes, well, as enchanting as I find this little reunion—after all, I
am
the one who's responsible for it, something I hope the two of you will remember when it comes time to name your firstborn daughter—you'll have that lot of time you want later. After my wedding. Right now, I'd like to get married if the two of you don't mind."

It was with obvious reluctance that Holt released his sister's arm and dismissed himself from the two women. Then he strode easily up the white satin aisle that spilled over the grass, and took his place beside the groom.

The
groom,
Kit marveled for perhaps the hundredth time since waking that morning. Now
there
was a word she'd never planned on using personally in her lifetime. But there he was all the same. Her groom. Pendleton.

The music swelled and segued into
Pictures at an Exhibition,
Faith's cue to make her own way down the aisle. With a brief smile for Kit, she handed over the modest bouquet of gardenias meant for the bride, then clasped her own smaller version to her abdomen and made her way slowly toward the rest of the wedding party.

And then it was Kit's turn. Once again the music changed, and as the tune blossomed into "That Man of Mine," she inhaled a deep breath and took a slow step forward. Then another. And another. And another.

And she didn't stop moving forward until she stood beside Pendleton, who, she had to admit, looked good enough to eat. Like Holt, he was dressed in formal morning coat and trousers. Unlike Holt, however, he stirred a need deep inside her that she wasn't sure would ever be satisfied. He lifted his hand toward her, and, without hesitation, Kit curled her fingers over his.

The minister inclined his head toward both of them, and then, in a voice full of warmth and promise, he recited the words that would bring Kit and Pendleton together for all eternity. And when he came to the part about speak now or forever hold your peace, only one person spoke up.