This Matter Of Marriage (23 page)

They might have remained just as they were forever. Despite the wind, Hallie had no inclination to move, and apparently Steve didn't, either. She was utterly content to stand there, staring at the approaching harbor, wrapped in the protective warmth of his embrace.

All too soon the ferry had docked and they were filing out. Hallie felt a little awkward and wondered if Steve did, too. Their intimate companionable mood had vanished.

“I had a wonderful time,” she confessed as they strolled toward the bus tunnel.

“Even if you were stuck with me for the evening.”

“That's just fine, since Todd dumped
me
on you.”

“You aren't so bad, McCarthy.” He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers.

“Neither are you, Marris. Neither are you.”

D
onnalee awoke to the scent of sizzling bacon. A slow easy smile crossed her face as she rolled onto her back, stretching her arms high above her head.

A glance at the clock told her it was after ten. That couldn't be right. Tossing aside the covers, she climbed out of the narrow bed, reached for her robe and looked over the balcony of the A-frame loft.

Todd stood in front of the stove, humming softly while he turned the bacon, looking masculine and wonderful. Her heart swelled at the sight of him. They'd spent Saturday trout-fishing from the canoe. He'd insisted on cooking dinner, treating her like company. She'd never known fish could taste so good. Later they'd sat under the stars, talking, and there was no subject they didn't discuss. Donnalee had never spent a day she'd enjoyed more. She'd loved every single second.

“Good morning,” she called down to him now.

Todd looked up and grinned. “I wondered when you were going to get up.”

From the look of him, he'd been awake for hours. “Is it really ten?” she asked, tying the sash of her robe.

“Yup. Hungry?”

“Starved. I'll be down in two shakes.” Her overnight bag sat next to the bed, and she quickly found a fresh T-shirt. Pulling on her jeans, she raced down the stairs barefoot.

She arrived just as Todd was dishing up the fried eggs. “I can't remember when I've slept better,” she told him, smiling.

“There's something about the country air,” he said, his gaze approving as she sat down at the table. “I sleep like the dead out here at the cabin. It's one of the great mysteries of the universe.”

He carried two glasses of orange juice to the table, and Donnalee found herself watching him. Watching him and loving him. The realization caught her unawares.
Love.
She was falling in love.

As a teenager she'd been infatuated with him. When they'd met again over dinner on Friday, the flame had sparked back to life. But spending all day Saturday together had set it ablaze.

“My grandparents always talked about how coming here restored them,” Todd said, looking at her. “They were the ones who bought this place nearly fifty years ago. It was their private getaway. When the pressures of job and family became too much, they stole away for a weekend.”

“It's kind of romantic, isn't it?”

He seemed not to have heard her. “After my divorce, Gramps sent me here and said I should stay a week. I stayed two months. The first month I worked on the place and was up until all hours of the night. I did hard physical work, anything that would keep me from thinking.”

“And the second month?”

“I read and slept and healed as much as I could. When I returned to my family, I'd made some basic decisions about my life. First and foremost, I announced I wasn't returning to college—which really disappointed my father.”

“You're good with your hands. It makes perfect sense for you to work with them.”

“I'm content, but to my parents, having a son choose a blue-collar trade was a step backward. They had big dreams for me as an attorney. It's taken them a long time to accept that I love what I do and I'm good at it.”

“It was a wise choice for you.”

“I believe so.” He stared down at his food. “For the first time in fifteen years I'm questioning the second decision I made that summer,” he said. “After the failure of my marriage I decided I'd never love any woman again. I know it sounds pretty melodramatic, but I meant it, and not once in all the years since have I been tempted to change my mind.” He paused, his eyes on her. “Until now.”

The words were spoken without any telltale inflection, as if he were discussing something as mundane as television listings or the weather.

Donnalee hadn't taken even one bite of her breakfast and realized she couldn't eat to save her life. Emotion clogged her throat. She set the fork aside and pushed herself away from the table, then walked outside. She stood on the porch, head bent, staring at the cedar planks.

“Donnalee.” He'd followed her out. His voice was rough, almost sorrowful. “I apologize. I should never have said that.”

“Did you mean it?” she asked, her own voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

They'd spent an entire day together and he hadn't so much as kissed her. When they'd headed into the house for bed, he'd escorted her to the loft, wished her good-night and promptly left.

“Does that bother you?” he asked. “What I said?”

“No. It makes my heart…glad.”

Todd slid his arms around her and brought her close. For the longest time they did nothing but stand in the sun, locked in each other's embrace. Then Donnalee kissed him.

That first kiss was soft, tentative, yet full of raw hungry need. Her whole body began to tremble. She gripped his collar, crushing the material, holding on to it as if this was all that kept her from being swept away in a raging storm. Her moan was wanton. She hardly recognized the sound of her own voice.

Todd bunched the material of her T-shirt at the small of her back. “Do you know what you're starting?” he asked. Then, not giving her time to respond, he asked another question. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She felt his muscles tense with restraint.

“Yes…I know. I'm sure.”

His tongue stroked her lips before dipping into her mouth, creating an electricity that arced through her, heating her blood. When he did fully claim her lips, she nearly fainted.

One kiss, one deep kiss, and she was hot and restless. So very restless.

She wasn't alone. Donnalee could feel his need. It shuddered through his body and hers. This urgency was far too potent so early in their relationship. Things were moving too fast. She'd never been a woman who leapt from bed to bed. She'd watched others, friends, moving from one partner to another, from one desperate relationship to the next, without thought, without regret. Without their hearts ever being involved.

Well, if anyone's heart was involved, it was hers.

They kissed until Donnalee felt she'd die if he didn't make love to her. When he wrenched his mouth from hers, she whimpered, begging him without words to go on.

“Either we stop now,” he whispered, his voice heavy with need, “or…or we continue.”

She pulled back until her eyes found his. What he was really asking was permission to make love to her. He could have carried her into his bedroom, her head clouded with passion, and taken her right then and there. Instead, he'd stopped, giving her the opportunity to end their passion now if she had any hesitations. Making sure she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

She smiled and kissed him softly and slowly. Thoroughly. “Don't stop. I want you. So very much…”

That was apparently all the reassurance he needed. He swung her into his arms, carried her into the house and made straight for his bedroom, where he gently placed her on the mattress.

They spent the day there. All day. When they weren't making love, they napped or shared desultory conversation. Donnalee woke late in the afternoon and knew it was time to return to the city. She had to be at her office early Monday morning to meet with clients. For two glorious days, she'd escaped from her world into one that was simpler. Happier. And incredibly sensual.

Todd lay on his back, his hands behind his head. “Now that I think about it, I'll bet this is how my grandparents spent their time here.”

“Making love?”

“I wouldn't put it past Gramps. They were married more than sixty years, and to the best of my memory, I never heard them say a cross word to each other.”

“What a wonderful legacy.”

“My divorce was the first in the family,” he said.

Even now, years later, Donnalee could hear his guilt. She pressed her head to his shoulder and slipped her arm around his neck. “I don't want to leave,” she whispered. She feared that once they were back in the city, everything they'd discovered this weekend would be lost. Todd would return to his life; she'd return to hers. She was afraid these brief hours shared in each other's arms would be forgotten, reduced to a pleasant interlude without any further meaning.

Silently they dressed and loaded his car. On the long drive back to Seattle, they exchanged snippets of conversation, but no subject held their attention long.

By the time Todd pulled up in front of her house, Donnalee was convinced he'd experienced a change of heart and regretted everything he'd said and done—the confidences, the lovemaking, the implied promises.

“I had a wonderful weekend,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “I can't thank you enough.”

Todd carried in her suitcase and left shortly afterward. He didn't even kiss her before he walked out the door.

Hardly aware of what she was doing, Donnalee unpacked, then sat on the sofa and started to sob. Soon she was crying so hard she could barely breathe. When she'd managed to control her breathing enough to speak, she reached for the phone and punched in her best friend's number.

“Hello,” Hallie said cheerfully.

“I did something so stupid!” Donnalee wailed.

“Donnalee? Is that you? What's wrong? Do you need me to come over?”

This was what Donnalee loved about Hallie. Close friend and staunch ally, she was always ready to drop whatever she was doing and rush to her aid. “No. I'll be fine in a little bit.” Another lifetime was more accurate, but there was no reason to alarm her friend.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Donnalee said. Then, with a sob, she added, “Everything.”

Hallie was suspiciously quiet. “What do you mean, everything? You went away for the weekend with Todd to his family's summer cabin and…” She hesitated. “You didn't…?”

“We did.”

Donnalee could hear Hallie's soft gasp. “You and Todd slept together?”

“We went to bed, but let me assure you, there was very little sleeping.”

Hallie gave a snort of disgust. “If you're calling for sympathy, you're plumb out of luck. I'm so jealous I could scream. Why is everyone in the world having sex but me?”

“It was so beautiful,” Donnalee whispered, and started crying again. She'd practically emptied the box of tissues, and still the tears showed no sign of letting up.

“Why in the name of heaven are you crying?”

Hallie's question was perfectly logical, but Donnalee didn't have an answer. “I don't know. Because it was good—more than good. Oh, Hallie, I can't even
begin
to tell you how good it was.”

“My sympathy level is sinking fast.”

Donnalee laughed and wept at the same time. “It's just that I'm so afraid.”

“Of what?”

She took a deep shuddering breath. “I love him. Don't laugh, Hallie, please. I couldn't bear it if my best friend told me what a fool I am.”

“I wouldn't laugh at you, Donnalee.”

“I guess I knew that.” She didn't say anything for a moment; Hallie didn't speak, either. “I love him,” she said again. “It makes no sense that I'd be so sure of it when we've spent hardly any time together—but I am. Now I think I've ruined everything.”

“By sleeping with him?”

“Yes. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm afraid I'm going to lose him.”

“Why would you think that?”

“He hardly spoke to me on the drive back.” They'd both made an effort to avoid the one subject they should have discussed—how they felt about each other. Donnalee had no idea where their relationship would go from this point. If it was going anywhere at all. Thinking about it terrified her.

“You've got absolutely no reason to worry,” Hallie said.

“How can you say that?” Donnalee challenged. She wanted to believe it so badly but didn't dare.

“I saw the way he looked at you during dinner,” Hallie muttered. “Him being
my
date and all.”

“Oh, Hallie, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be. I was joking—I'm not interested in Todd. Just calm down. Things have a way of working out for the best.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am sure.”

“Now I know why I didn't marry Sanford…” Donnalee said, clenching the damp tissue in her fist. The pain of that separation crept into her consciousness like a bad dream, one she struggled to forget.

Hallie completed the thought for her. “You didn't marry Sanford because of Todd. Your heart must have known there was someone else for you. Someone who wants the same things you do. And what's even better,” Hallie went on excitedly, “it was someone you already knew!”

“That's what I want to think, but I can't be sure—especially now.” Donnalee could only imagine what Todd thought of her, falling into bed with him like that. Until Todd, she never would've believed herself capable of such a thing.