by Gina Wilkins
It would be awful. She'd worked so hard for her degree. She loved her work. She'd go crazy with nothing to do but clean house and cook meals. Even if she had children, they would start school eventually, and then where would she be? Perhaps she would choose to take off a couple of years if she had a baby, but the operative word was "choose." She didn't like the idea of giving up her career just because she was afraid to start over in a new place.
No, she told herself bravely, she wouldn't give up her work. If Clay wanted her to go back with him to San Francisco, she'd do it, but she'd have to find a job there in her field. Perhaps she couldn't start her own practice again immediately, but maybe she could enter a partnership in an existing clinic. It wasn't that she didn't like San Francisco. She did. She thought it was a beautiful city. But, oh, how she'd miss Arkansas.
She wouldn't miss it nearly as much as she'd missed Clay during the past four months, she reminded herself. She couldn't even bring herself to consider how she would feel if she was separated from him now, after being given another glimpse of happiness with him. Even the thought was painful enough to cause her to flinch.
She quickly busied herself with work, pulling her thoughts away from the future, unwilling to dwell on the uncertainties just then.
* * *
"I missed you."
"I missed you, too. What did you do with yourself today?" Spring asked, her voice rather muffled since her head was buried deep within Clay's shoulder.
"I looked around, checked out Little Rock." He held her slightly away from him, giving her a proud-of-himself smile. "Did you know that this city has a symphony orchestra, two opera companies, a couple of community theaters, a ballet company, some very nice golf courses, hundreds of acres of beautiful parks, a zoo, a—"
"Clay, I know all that!" She laughed and clapped her hand over his mouth. "I've lived in this area all my life. Why are you telling me about it?"
"Just snowing off what I've learned today," he informed her after removing her hand. "It's a fascinating town. The chamber of commerce was happy to give me all kinds of information."
"You visited the chamber of commerce?"
"Sure. It's the best place to start when you're learning a new city."
Why was he going to so much trouble to learn about Little Rock? The question puzzled her until his lips distracted her by making a little trail down her throat toward the open neck of her summery dress. "What are you doing. Clay?"
"Can't you guess?" He unfastened one button, his lips following the downward path of his fingers.
"What about dinner?"
"I can wait awhile. How about you?"
She closed her eyes and moaned softly when he found her breasts with fingers and lips. "I'm getting hungrier—but not for dinner."
He laughed softly and caught her up in his arms. "We may both lose weight during these next few weeks."
"So we'll be fashionably thin," she replied, smiling as she put her arms around his neck.
"You don't need to lose any weight," he murmured, his long strides carrying them quickly to her bedroom. "I promise to feed you well tonight. Later."
"Yes." She reached upward for his kiss as he lowered her to the bed. "Much later."
Chapter Eleven
"Ahem."
"Just a minute, sweetheart, let me finish this article. It's about a psychologist here in town who has an interesting new method for treating emotionally disturbed teenagers." Clay held the paper a bit farther away from him, focusing with interest on the article that had grabbed his attention.
Spring sighed and walked up to his chair, sliding his stylish new glasses onto his nose. "Now you can finish your article," she informed him, then turned and went back to her own chair, where she'd been reading a professional-journal when she noticed that Clay wasn't wearing his glasses. She'd gotten them for him on Wednesday morning and it was now Thursday evening, and he was still having trouble remembering to wear them when he read.
Clay gave her a sheepish grin, then went back to his article, swinging his leg over the arm of the easy chair in which he'd sprawled—the chair he'd claimed as his own during the four days since his arrival in Little Rock. Spring ignored the journal in her lap to admire her lover for a moment. His hair was mussed, he was barefoot, he was wearing a vivid green polo shirt with blue-purple-and-jade madras-plaid cuffed pants, and he wore her cat draped around his neck like a muffler. He looked wonderful. The glasses, with their thin metal frames, were very attractive on him. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him.
She had never been happier in her life. She'd always thought it would be difficult for her to adjust to living with someone after being on her own for so long, but she loved living with Clay. They were completely compatible, in bed and out, and she couldn't bear the thought of living without him now. In four days he had implanted himself so firmly in her life and her heart that she knew he had become a vital part of her.
He was still spending his days, as far as she knew, roaming the local area, exploring anything that caught his interest. In the evenings he took her with him, showing her parts of the city that she'd never seen, even as long as she'd lived there. Only the night before they had taken a ride on a paddleboat down the Arkansas River, which ran right alongside downtown Little Rock. He was impressed by Little Rock's cosmopolitan development and the small-town atmosphere that somehow remained. He was amused by the fanatic loyalty to the University of Arkansas football team, the Razorbacks, as evidenced by the snorting red hogs depicted on signs, bumper stickers, clothing, household articles, billboards—just about everywhere he looked, he'd informed Spring.
"And this is summertime," she'd told him with a laugh. "You should see us during football season!" And then she'd fallen silent, wondering where he—where they—would be come fall. She only hoped that, wherever they were, they'd be together.
Clay had expressed an avid interest in seeing other parts of the state, naming off several places he'd like to see and things he wanted to do. Spring had accused him of being a compulsive tourist, but she'd made a reservation at a popular lakeside hotel in nearby Hot Springs National Park for the weekend, eager to show him as much as she could of her state while she had the chance. She was delighted by his complimentary attitude and hoped he wasn't just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. They'd decided to wait until the following weekend to visit her family in Rose Bud, though neither would admit aloud that they didn't want to spend time with her family until their future was somewhat more settled.
"You know, I think I'll give this guy a call next week," Clay mused, breaking in on Spring's thoughts as he looked up from his newspaper to find her gaze on him. "I'd like to meet him and discuss his new treatment method. It sounds interesting."
Spring smiled, knowing that Clay would probably be fast friends with the other man by the end of their meeting. He seemed to have a talent for making friends. Her neighbor, Mr. English, a man old enough to be Clay's father, had already become a friend, just from a chance meeting outside the apartments, and Clay had promised to go fishing with the other man one afternoon during the next week.
The telephone rang and Spring got up to answer it. Clay followed her into the kitchen and poured himself a soft drink while she talked to Kelsey. Spring looked up at him. "Kelsey wants to know if we're interested in a pool party-cookout tomorrow at six. A friend of ours has just decided he wants to have a party at his house tomorrow."
"Sounds like fun. Come to think of it, I've never seen you in a bathing suit." He gave her a teasing leer, his eyebrows wiggling. "Or Kelsey," he added thoughtfully, earning himself a punch on the arm. "Hey! You almost made me spill my Coke!"
"Clay likes the idea," Spring reported to her friend on the phone. "And, Kelsey, wear your navy-blue swimsuit, will you? You know, the one with the turtleneck and the patch on the right knee." When she hung up, Kelsey was still laughing.
Spring extended one hand in Clay's direction, trying to hold on to a fierce scowl. "Okay, buster, hand it over."
"Hand what over? My drink?"
"No, Kelsey's phone number. I forgot about it until now."
Clay laughed and shook his head. "Sorry, don't have it."
"She said she gave it to you." She knew her eyes were dancing with laughter, but she managed not to grin as she teased him. "Give."
"I really don't have it," he insisted humorously. "I tossed it in the wastebasket in your examining room when Andi ushered me in."
"You did?"
"Yep. I didn't know she was your best friend, but I knew I wasn't interested in any other woman's phone number. There hasn't been another woman for me since I looked up one Friday evening in March and saw a beautiful blonde standing in a doorway looking down her nose at my clothing."
Spring gave in to her smile and looped her arms around his neck. "Good. You just passed one test."
"I didn't know I was being tested." He set his soft drink down on the table, out of danger, and crossed his arms around her waist.
"Women always test men, didn't you know that?"
"How am I doing?"
"You did very well on the one about leaving your dirty socks lying around. You don't squeeze your toothpaste from the middle, you don't snore, you pick up after yourself and you don't keep other women's phone numbers—that's a big one, by the way."
Clay smiled smugly, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose. "Darn near perfect, aren't I?"
"Oh, you have a few flaws," she retorted, not wanting all that praise to go to his already swelling head.
"Such as?"
"You forget to wear your new glasses."
"I'll work on that one."
"And you get the newspaper all out of order before I read it."
"Oh. Sorry."
"You're a terrible cook."
"I suppose I could learn."
"And you've stolen my cat's affections. Missy thinks you're the greatest thing since catnip."
"And what do you think?"
"I think you're the greatest thing since catnip."
He grinned and dropped his head to kiss her, laughing when they bumped glasses. "I can tell that this is going to take practice."
Her own smile faded a bit as she fought to keep from telling him that she was willing to practice for a lifetime. He still hadn't brought up their future, and she wouldn't be the one to break their agreement, even though the subject had been weighing more heavily on her mind with each passing day. "We could take them off," she offered instead.
"Among other things," he added, tugging suggestively at the collar of her knit top.
"Yes," she agreed. She wanted to tell him she loved him, she thought wistfully as they walked side by side to the bedroom. She needed to tell him. But that subject, too, was one that hadn't come up since Monday, when Clay had told her he loved her in a surge of passion. He hadn't told her since then, and she wasn't sure why. Was it because he wasn't sure himself? If so, she wouldn't pressure him by telling him her own feelings.
But, oh, how she loved him.
* * *
"That man of yours is beautiful enough to make a grown woman weep, Spring," Kelsey said with a deep sigh, her eyes trained on Clay as he piled a plate high with a steaming grilled hamburger, pickles and chips. In his tropical-print surfing shorts that he'd chosen to wear with striped suspenders and a red sleeveless T-shirt, Clay wouldn't have been hard to spot in the crowd even if he hadn't been so tall and so very handsome. The early-evening sun, still bright and hot at this time of day in July, glinted off his hair, turning it to pure gold.
"Yes, I know," Spring agreed complacently, loving the proprietary feeling Kelsey's words had given her. Sitting cross-legged on a blanket, she took a big bite of her own burger—Clay was on his second—and watched him as he talked with a heavyset man in the line beside him. Gordon, the man Clay was talking to, owned the sprawling ranch-style house on fifty acres only a ten-minute drive out of Little Rock and frequently hosted these impromptu parties. Self-employed, he was able both financially and timewise to do so. Kelsey had met him just after she'd moved to Little Rock, and she was responsible for bringing Spring into Gordon's huge, heterogeneous circle. Clay had wasted no time getting acquainted with Spring's friends, mixing in as if he'd known everyone for years.
"And he's such a snappy dresser," Kelsey added with a grin.
Spring choked on her dinner and giggled.
"Something tells me you're laughing at me again," Clay complained as he joined them on the blanket, slipping off his red huaraches to tuck his bare feet under him. He winked at Kelsey as he looped a lazy arm around Spring's neck and hugged her. "She's got this crazy idea that I have strange taste in clothing," he explained.
Kelsey widened her eyes dramatically. "No! Why would she think that?"
"Beats me." Clay released Spring to attack his second hamburger as Kelsey's date, Wade, rejoined them after having fetched another mug of draft beer for himself and Kelsey.
"Thanks, Wade." Kelsey smiled at the solidly built ex-Razorback-turned-insurance salesman, then turned her attention back to Clay. "Spring told me that the two of you are leaving for Hot Springs in the morning. You'll like it. It's a beautiful area. Be sure and go up in the new observation tower on Hot Springs Mountain. It's over two hundred feet tall, and you can see the Ouachita Mountains and Lake Ouachita and Hamilton Lake and all of Hot Springs. It's gorgeous. Oh, and don't forget the Mid-America Museum and the Wax Museum and..."
Seeing that Clay was following Kelsey's every word with avid interest, Spring laughed and interrupted. "Kelsey, give us a break. We're only going to be there Saturday and Sunday, and Clay's already a compulsive tourist. Believe me, if it's there, he'll find it."
Clay only grinned and popped another chip into his mouth.
Half an hour later Clay and Kelsey and Wade were working off calories in a Hacky Sack circle while Spring, who'd never mastered that particular game, watched and laughed at them. Her eyes lingered on Clay as he adroitly fielded the small, leather-covered foot bag with his knee, then kicked it with the side of his foot to Wade, who expertly bounced the little ball off his own knee to Kelsey.
"Hello, Spring. You're looking very well," a familiar male voice said from behind her.
She turned her head to smile at the attractive man with neatly trimmed brown hair and rather serious green eyes, finding herself thinking in some amusement that his sharply creased jeans and Izod knit shirt looked atypically casual. "Hello, Roger. When did you get here?"
"Just a few minutes ago." He leaned down a bit awkwardly to kiss her cheek. "How pretty you look." Spring had worn a peacock-blue romper, brighter than her usual pastels, with white sandals. She'd left her hair down to tumble in loose curls at her shoulders and had stowed her glasses in their case in her purse. She knew she looked more relaxed and casual than Roger was accustomed to seeing her. Probably happier, too.
"Thank you, Roger." Come to think of it, Roger had a new glow in his own eyes. "Are you here with someone?"
His smile was just a bit shy—something else new for him. "Yes." He nodded toward a young woman engaged in a laughing conversation with Gordon. "Her name is Cathy Fleetwood. We're, uh, we're engaged."
Her eyes widening in surprise. Spring examined Roger's fiancée more closely. The tall, slender woman was strikingly attractive—and cheerfully flamboyant. In her mid-twenties, she wore her golden-brown hair in thick, wavy layers to her shoulders. Her huge blue eyes were dramatically highlighted with makeup, she wore enormous earrings that swayed with each movement of her head and her summer gauze jumpsuit was striped in hot pink, turquoise and blinding white. She looked like a feminine version of Clay. Summer couldn't help laughing, then quickly explained when Roger looked offended. "I'm just happy for you. She looks very nice."
He relaxed only marginally, still uncertain why she had laughed. "Thank you. I am happy. We're going to be married next month."
An obviously possessive arm went around Spring's waist and Clay loomed over her. "Did you miss me, sweetheart?"
"Of course I did. Clay." She smiled indulgently up at him, realizing that he must have seen Roger kiss her cheek. And he wasn't too happy about it. "Clay Mc-Entire, this is Roger Nichols."
Recognizing Roger's name, Clay scowled for just a moment before holding out his hand.
Roger shook the proffered hand warmly, casting a glance at Clay's clothing before turning a ruefully amused look on Spring. Now he knew why she'd laughed, she realized. Both she and Roger had fallen in love with people diametrically different from themselves, and they knew it. No wonder they hadn't been able to hold on to their own relationship. Neither of them had been what the other needed. She smiled brilliantly at her former lover, silently wishing him happiness. His eyes returned the blessing before he walked away to join his fiancée and their host.
"Just what was that all about?'' Clay demanded, bristling with masculine aggressiveness.
"What?"
"That look you gave each other. I thought you said everything was over between you and Roger."
"It is. Completely over." She turned in his arms, locking her hands behind his back and smiling up at him. "Clay, are you actually jealous?"
"Yes," he answered, looking stricken. "Dammit, Spring, I've never been jealous in my life!"
"Don't be, Clay. Roger's engaged and very happily so. And even if he weren't, you wouldn't have to worry. Don't you know how much I—" Her smile faded as she stopped herself, then she lifted her chin and finished the sentence. "Don't you know how much I love you, Clay McEntire?"
There. She had said it. She was tired of hiding her feelings.
"And I love you," Clay whispered, lowering his head to hers. "Oh, God, how I love you!" And forgetting that they were not alone—or, more likely, not caring that they had an audience—he kissed her with all the love and need inside him.
Too happy to be embarrassed, Spring returned the kiss. She stayed very close to his side—and he to hers—for the remainder of the party.