Loving Wild
Page 20
“Well?”
He said the word on a growl, and looked at her with a gaze that could make water take flame. The long-sleeved linen suit and the simple cotton vest she’d worn under it now seemed much too warm for the cool late-September weather.
Her heart rose to her throat, for this was the moment she’d dreamed of these past weeks. She’d told herself she would just open her mouth and let him know exactly how she felt, exactly what he’d come to mean to her. But in her dreams this part was fuzzy and swift, and segued quickly into the moment when he took her in his arms and made hungry love to her against the blackboard.
The words stuck in her throat. There were no words, really. There was just a feeling, just a realization—that in life bad things would always happen, and those were out of her control. But she would only experience the good things in life if she actively went out and conquered her fear and seized them. She’d been with Dylan long enough to know that staring into her own fear was a small price to pay for a whole lot of happiness.
She knew she couldn’t just let the words remain unspoken. He needed to hear them. He’d suffered, too. His knuckles were white against the door, his jaw tight. He was holding back, waiting for her.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice strangely breathless, “about settling down somewhere for a while.”
He made a sound, a strange sucking sound. A muscle flexed in his cheek.
“I’m getting tired of traveling all over the country,” she admitted. “And Bessie’s just about ready to be put to pasture. I’m…I’m thinking of doing newspaper work again. Maybe local work.”
Still, he didn’t move. He didn’t budge.
“The editor of my hometown paper told me I can have my job back whenever I want.”
“In Morristown.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m thinking about starting a book, too. About my travels—”
“You mentioned that when we were together. Something about stories of the people you’ve met.”
“Yes. You remember.”
“There ain’t a hell of a lot of those three weeks I can forget.”
“Me, either.”
A charged moment passed. Casey met his gaze and the journey swept before their eyes—the day he’d washed her hair in the cove, the lovemaking on the riverbank, the soft evenings in the tent—and she knew that nothing had cooled between them, that time had only made her ache for him more.
Why had she ever expected otherwise?
He dropped his hand from the door and shifted his stance. “I suppose Morristown isn’t so far. What, five, six hours from here?”
“I turned down the job offer, Dylan.” She shrugged. An image of the little white house she and Charlie had lived in flashed through her mind…then faded, slowly, sweetly, like the end of a dream. “I’ve decided to find a job elsewhere, to start a whole new life.”
A light sparked in his eye, but still he held himself tight. “Bridgewater has a fine weekly,” he said. “I know they’d appreciate having a writer of your experience on staff.”
“I love you, Dylan.”
She’d spoken softly. But loud enough for him to hear. His eyes widened and he stared at her as if she’d just levitated.
“I love you,” she repeated, the surety strong in her heart. “I loved you three weeks ago, too, but I didn’t have the courage then to say it. I love you, and I hope it isn’t too late—”
He crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Cupping her head in his hands, he kissed her words away. Kissed her hard. Slanted his face against hers until she could feel the first prickle of the shadow of his beard. And all the world dissolved around her in a rush of color and light.
Much later, breathless and trembling, she blinked open her eyes to see Dylan’s smile as wide as the St. Lawrence River.
“You’re trying to get me in trouble, right?” he said, hoarsely. “Get me thrown out for committing a lewd act on school property, right? Then I’ll have to live with you in that beat-up van of yours and travel around like a gypsy—”
“Hey,” she said, between breaths, “you’re the one who started kissing me—”
“Because there’s no way a woman who has lived a life like yours wants to be stuck in a backwater town with a guy like me, raising a passel of kids and spending summers in a log cabin—”
“Going to football games in the fall and growing tomatoes,” she added, tears filling her eyes. “Ice fishing in the winter and barbecuing in the summer.”
His hands curved around her head and he shook her gently. “What the hell took you so long to figure everything out?
“I had to slow down, Dylan. I’ve been running for so long.” She spread her hands across his chest. “The only running I want to do, from now on, is running an editor’s desk at the Bridgewater Weekly. And maybe a bake sale for the Girl Scouts.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said, and she felt the glow of certainty light up her face. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
“Then marry me, Casey Michaels.”
“Yes.”
Yes. A song lilted in her heart. Tears fell shamelessly down her cheeks. Yes, yes, yes. Heedless of the dirty floor, heedless of the noise of students outside the door, she fell to her knees with him, then pressed her face against his shoulder. Dylan wrapped his arms around her. Strong arms. Sure arms.
A little while later, they made their way, hand in hand, out of the school to a more private place. Casey looked up at him with the sun on his hair and the light of love in his eyes. Yes, she thought. Life had a way of shifting under her feet when she least expected it…but this time, she had landed on air.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6408-3
LOVING WILD
Copyright © 1998 by Lisa Ann Verge.
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