She was so torn between knowing she should force the conversation between them and just living in this moment with Brian. This was something they hadn’t done for a very long time. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Yet the wanting wasn’t enough, was it? Hadn’t the past year shown both of them that? Hadn’t Lisa’s presence and the idea of adopting a baby magnified the rift between them?
Her answer now and the way she responded to all of this would set the course of their future. Except for the very first night when she’d feared intimacy with Brian might resurrect flashbacks or take her back to a place she’d fought to get clear of, she’d never hesitated to let him awaken her desire. Even that first night her fears had been unfounded because the counseling had helped her clear her decks and she’d been ready for the gentleness, tenderness and passion that had gone along with Brian’s love. She knew tonight she needed to welcome that passion again.
Afterward they could talk.
“I don’t mind if my hair gets wet,” she assured him.
Brian’s slow smile made her pulse race unchecked. Taking the scrunchie from her hair, he set it on the lip of the tub. When he slid his hand up the back of her neck and shook out her long chestnut waves, she could tell he took pleasure from it.
“Come here,” he whispered, and he brought her close—a breath’s distance away. “It’s been too long,” he murmured as he brushed his thumb over her lips.
It did feel like forever since they’d made love, since he’d held her, since they’d lost themselves in each other. There was no need to speak as he first nibbled at the corner of her lips then bathed them with his tongue.
She clasped his shoulders, dizzy with desire, afraid she’d float away from him.
As he kissed first her upper lip, then her lower lip, teasing her unmercifully, she felt her breath come in short gasps. She wanted to beg him to do more, but she couldn’t find her voice and she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. As if sensing that her need for his touch was increasing, his hand slipped under the water to caress her breast. When he fingered her nipple, she moaned. The whirl of the water against her skin, the mist swelling around them, the heat and cold mixing in the air awakened all of her senses until touch was the most acute of all.
His large hands caressed her everywhere, from her nipples to her waist to the most intimate place of all. He seemed intent on giving her so much pleasure that she was mindless with it, breathless with it, ecstatic with it. She didn’t know how long he teased and tasted, nipped her shoulders while he touched, savored each kiss as if she was the nectar that could give him life. When his hand slipped between her thighs once more, she couldn’t think clearly enough to do anything except arch against him. Water enhanced the slide of his fingers into the intimate heart of her. Soon every tingle in her body was coalescing into a tightening in her womb.
Brian knew exactly where to brush, where to stroke, where to linger until his thumb found the nub that brought on her climax. He kissed her again at the same time, and the cry of pleasure and release was lost into his mouth, into his body. The resonance of it seemed to vibrate through them both and before she could recover, he was sliding onto the reclining bench, pulling her onto his lap, looking into her eyes. His hands were on her hips, and she seemed weightless in the water. Splaying his hands across her backside, he lifted her onto him. As Brian filled her, Carrie braced herself on his chest and closed her eyes.
“This is going to be better than anything you’ve ever felt before,” he promised her.
Brian always kept his promises.
The buoyancy of the water seemed to make everything light, everything easy, everything smooth. Each of Brian’s thrusts became a pleasure-filled journey that took her deeper into their passion. She felt as if she were flying, soaring into another dimension as another climax started to build. The water, the heat, the feel of Brian’s skin, the fullness of him inside of her flowed through her and around her and in her in increasingly engulfing waves. The waves gathered strength, each more explosive than the one before it until she couldn’t tell where one wave stopped and another began…until she couldn’t tell where she stopped and Brian began…until nothing mattered but riding the giant wave wherever it would take her.
Suddenly the crest broke into a thousand waves, each caressing her, each filling her, each shaking her with force. She held on to her husband for dear life. When she cried his name, it echoed in the mist, sounded on the redwood and became a prayer for everything she’d ever needed and wanted from him. She was trembling from the power of the orgasm when Brian’s release came, too. He shuddered under her hands, enfolded her in his arms and brought her close into his chest.
This was exactly where she wanted to be—close to Brian, united with him. Yet she wasn’t sure they were united, not emotionally. They had so much to talk about.
“We’re going to overheat if we stay in here,” he said with a satisfied smile a few minutes later. “Let’s go back to our bedroom.”
When she didn’t respond right away, he asked, “Carrie? Don’t you want to go to the bedroom?”
“I’d like to talk.”
Kissing her forehead, he lifted her from him, then stood. “Talk? Wouldn’t you rather finish what we started here?” He cupped her chin in his hand and his voice went husky and low. “This is what it’s all about.”
His words saddened her, disappointed her and made her ache for so much more. “I don’t think that’s true. Earlier you were upset because I started a conversation we couldn’t finish. We need to finish it. I need to know if you trust me to stay and not leave, if you work so much because you don’t want to get too close.”
“We can’t get closer than we were just now.”
Steam billowed around Brian, making him appear as if he were a Roman hero emerging from the mist. Maybe that was the problem. She wanted a fairy tale, and she was faced with reality.
“I think our physical attraction has always gotten in the way of us getting close emotionally,” she murmured.
After a frustrated groan, he shook his head. “I don’t understand where all this is coming from. You’re trying to psychoanalyze something that isn’t there. Of course, I trust you to stay. You’re nothing like Jackie Dennehy or my mother. You and I have built a life. We’re finally going to have a family. My work is just that—my work. You had a career once. You know how it becomes the center of your life.”
As the water swirled around her, she looked up at her husband. “I gave up my career because you became the center of my life.”
His tone was disbelieving. “Do you resent that now?”
“No, I don’t resent it. I’m trying to make a point. I want to know why you can’t make room for me and a baby. Why can’t we become the center of your life?”
“You’re talking nonsense. Sure, I could retire, but then what? A man needs a worthwhile occupation. I’m good at what I do, Carrie. The problem is, it’s not a nine-to-five job. You knew that when you married me.”
“Yes, I knew that. But I didn’t expect it to be a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, either. I didn’t expect you to use it to keep up defenses, to stay removed from our marriage.”
Raking his hand through his hair, he shook his head. “We’re finally going to have what we’ve always wanted and you’re starting arguments. I don’t get it.”
“I don’t want to argue. I want to discuss. I want to compromise. I want us to trust each other with more than superficial details of everyday life. I don’t want to be a single mom while you’re a father in name only.”
“If you’re worried about how much time a child will take, you can hire a nanny.”
“I don’t want to hire a nanny!” She didn’t think she’d ever raised her voice to him before but now she couldn’t help it.
As she stood, she was almost trembling with the power of the yearning inside of her. “I don’t want to live in a mansion with huge rooms that can never be filled. I want to live in a home, ringing with children’s laughter.
I want to bake cookies and watch you roughhouse with our son. I want us to put him to bed together and feed him in the morning. Don’t you see what a real family can be?”
“Maybe I should rent reruns from the fifties to figure it out. I’ll tell you right now ‘Father Knows Best’ wasn’t real life then and it’s not real life now.” With a sigh, he stepped out of the tub. “Why don’t you go on up and get a shower. I’ll close up out here.”
She was so frustrated, she could scream. She couldn’t even suggest couples’ counseling because in counseling, she’d have to be totally honest with him, totally open, totally naked. He wasn’t ready for that any more than she was.
He was already closing the windows when she climbed out, put on her robe and belted it. She had to figure out some way to get through to Brian. Maybe a good night’s sleep would help.
One look at his rigid stance told her he wouldn’t be initiating more lovemaking tonight.
Neither would she. Until they could both shatter the barriers between them, chemistry would be all they had.
It simply wasn’t enough.
Eight
Checking her makeup in the downstairs bathroom, Carrie tried to still the butterflies fluttering in her stomach on Tuesday evening. The blush on her cheeks was rosier than she normally used, but it would look good under the lights.
Lights, cameras, microphones. It had been a long time since she’d been a spokeswoman for anything. She had to win over an audience tonight for the sake of the donor registry. At least thoughts of that challenge had helped her overcome her sadness and worry over her argument with Brian Sunday night.
When Carrie heard the garage door open, she gave a start. Brian. He’d left this morning before she was up. There had been a note for her on the refrigerator.
Carrie—I’ll be home in time to take you to the studio. B.
When Brian came into the kitchen, he was carrying his briefcase and a newspaper under his arm. He looked at her as if he didn’t know what to say for a moment and then obviously decided saying nothing about the two of them was best.
He held out the paper to her. “Have you seen this?”
Opening the Portland Weekly, a local tabloid, Carrie studied the section Brian mentioned. Her eyes opened in surprise. It was a picture of Peter Logan kissing a woman in what looked like a garden. The headline read, Peter Logan Romances Mystery Woman. The woman was in shadow, but Carrie recognized the hemline of the emerald dress she wore with its scalloped hem and intricate embroidery.
“I recognized that dress,” Brian said. “No wonder Katie seemed distracted.”
“I can’t believe this! Not Katie and Peter Logan. Their families don’t talk—they’re still enemies.”
Brian shrugged. “I know pictures don’t always tell the whole story, but Peter and Katie look pretty friendly there.”
“I wonder why they didn’t publish the photo right after the bachelor auction.”
“Whoever took it probably didn’t realize what they had until they got the pictures developed.”
“And then they sold one to the tabloid,” Carrie agreed, concerned for her friend. “Do you think the Weekly will find out the woman is Katie?”
“I’ll bet they’ve got someone on it now.”
When Carrie heard footsteps, she turned to see Lisa coming through the doorway. She almost didn’t know the girl. “Lisa, don’t you look pretty!”
Lisa’s hair was no longer two-toned, but all blond now. In place of the garish makeup, she wore lipstick in a natural shade she must have purchased on their excursion to the mall. She was wearing the outfit Carrie had suggested would look nice, and the long-sleeved navy-and-red top covered her tattoos.
“The red was only wash-in hair color,” she said, a defiant sparkle back in her eyes.
Brian studied Lisa until he broke into a smile. “You look incredible.”
At that, the teenager blushed. “I figured the cameras might pan across the phones. They do that sometimes, don’t they?”
“They sure do,” Carrie answered with a smile of her own.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to stand out. Are we leaving soon?”
Brian cast a questioning glance at Carrie.
“I’m ready. I want to call Katie but I’ll do that later. I don’t want to rush the conversation.” Worried about her friend, Carrie knew Katie hated attention of any kind. If her identity was found out, she’d be mortified.
A half hour later when Carrie, Brian and Lisa arrived at the TV studio, Brian spotted Adam Bartlett immediately. The two men discussed clearing the trees on Cedar Run Ranch on Thursday.
Ever since Adam had donated his bone marrow to his half brother, he and Leigh had been actively involved in the donor registration program. Carrie saw Leigh organizing the phone volunteers and she introduced Lisa to her.
Once Lisa had been assigned a chair and a phone, she said to Carrie, “I know you probably have to get ready. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
Carrie affectionately touched Lisa’s arm. “I know you will be, and you really do look wonderful tonight.”
“If I intend to go to college and eventually become a vice president of something, I figured I had to make certain adjustments. Besides, you always look like a million bucks and you hardly wear any makeup at all.”
Carrie could see that the teenager was sincere. Apparently she was a role model for her, and she felt good about that. “I’ll check in with you before the show starts. I have to meet and talk with the families I’m going to be interviewing. It will help us all relax when we finally do get started. If you need anything, just ask Leigh.”
“Okay,” Lisa agreed, then sat at her station.
Fifteen minutes later, Brian found Carrie in the green room with the families. He gave her a thumbs-up sign and told her he’d be in the audience. For a few moments, Carrie’s thoughts wandered to the other night in the hot tub and their argument afterward. It was still floating between them, and she didn’t know how to wipe it away.
As Brian took a seat in the audience and the ninety-minute program began, he watched Carrie, suddenly overtaken by the feeling that he didn’t know her. That was ridiculous! Of course he knew her.
Then why hadn’t he realized before now that their marriage was on rocky terrain? Why hadn’t he seen red flags? In the past two weeks there had been enough of them to blind him—Carrie making a decision to bring Lisa into their house without consulting him, Carrie’s eyes lighting up as she’d taken care of the teenager, Carrie caring for Lisa rather than rejoining their dinner party, Carrie telling him she didn’t want to be a trophy wife, Carrie asking if he trusted her, Carrie saying she was happy but…
That “but” was monumental, filled with countless other things she hadn’t said.
On the monitor, he saw Carrie’s eyes become moist as she spoke to a mother and a young son who had had a bone marrow transplant. The little boy’s hair still hadn’t grown back, and there was so much compassion on Carrie’s face, Brian knew every viewer had to feel it as much as he did. As she interviewed donors about their part in the life-saving procedure, as she drew from doctors their expert opinion about bone marrow transplants, as she made a plea to the viewing public to call and register for the donor program, Brian began to see his wife in a new light.
The hour-and-a-half program passed quickly. After it was over, he saw Carrie was deluged by a number of people who had something to say to her—thank you, congratulations, a warm goodbye. When he checked on Lisa, she was still compiling the forms she’d filled out when Portlanders had called in. Brian couldn’t get over the changes in her since she’d washed the red out of her hair and eliminated the eyeshadow. She looked like any daughter a father might be proud of. With sudden clarity he realized Carrie had seen Lisa’s good qualities before the transformation.
“How did it go?” he asked the teenager now.
As usual, her defenses were up. Her shoulders squared and she said, “It went fine.”
“That was a long
time to be taking phone messages,” he said lightly as he noticed her rubbing her back.
“The time flew. I just hope I have everything filled in right.”
“I’m sure you do. As long as you have a contact number, Leigh can do a follow-up if she has to.”
Lisa looked down at the forms in her hand and finally met his eyes again. “I wanted to tell you, I mailed the college applications this morning that we downloaded from your computer.”
“You did? How many?”
“Three—to UCLA, the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma and the University of Colorado at Boulder. Now we’ll see if any of them accept me. I spent a long time on the essays.”
“Did you keep copies? I’d like to read them.”
“Carrie let me use the word processing program on her laptop. I have them saved on disk. I’ll make sure you get a copy. Once I give these forms to Leigh, I’ll be ready to go, but I think I’ll try to find a ladies’ room before we do.”
“That’s fine. Carrie’s still on the set. I’ll be there with her.”
When Brian reached the stage set, he found Carrie talking to a man who looked familiar to him. The guy was in his forties with dark-brown hair, wearing a charcoal pinstriped suit, blue shirt and designer tie. When Carrie caught sight of Brian and introduced the two men, everything fell into place. Charles Gallagher was one of the producers at the TV station. Brian had seen him at Chamber of Commerce meetings.
The two men shook hands. Charles didn’t hesitate to tell Brian why he was talking to Carrie. “Your wife has a gift.”
Brian wasn’t exactly sure what the man meant so he kept quiet and waited.
Gallagher gave Carrie a wide smile. “She’s very humble, but I can tell her interview skills rival anyone’s, even Barbara Walters’!”
“I think you’re exaggerating,” Carrie said with a little laugh.
“I’m not exaggerating in the least. You made everything about this production look easy, and it wasn’t, I know. Parents are emotional about their children, kids clam up, doctors talk in medicalese. You handled all of it brilliantly and that’s why I want to meet with you about doing a talk show.”
A Precious Gift Page 11