Tess said, “As it turns out, I’m not going to be so far away after all.”
“Oh?”
“Umm-huh. The senator is not only a prize catch, he’s also quite astute. Suspecting you’d feel this way, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Honey Belle shook her head. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me what conspiracy the two of you have cooked up behind my back.”
“At sixty-six, I’m no spring chicken, though I’ve still got a lot of spark left in me. With my nursing experience and with a recommendation from the senator, I am now a part-time nursing instructor at The Citadel.”
Honey Belle gasped her delight. “That’s wonderful! But what about your house?”
“Put it up for sale as soon I knew the teaching position was secured.” Tess pointed to a building at the edge of the property. “That’s the old horse stable. For years it’s been used for storage. The senator hired a contractor to completely renovate it into a cottage. He told the contractor to work with me on the design.”
Choked up, unable to speak, Honey Belle placed her hands against her heart.
A loud rap against the closed bedroom door released Honey Belle from her emotions. JT called, “Mom…are you ready?”
****
Dressed in a gray tuxedo, Tripp waited inside the gazebo. His Uncle Jake, serving as best man, stood next to him.
His father and assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins, all sworn to secrecy, were the only guests. His Uncle Jake would make the official announcement of the wedding after Tripp and Honey Belle’s plane left for a honeymoon at an undisclosed destination.
Tripp’s eyes met his father’s, and he smiled. With his failing health, the Judge had charged his brother, Jake, with the duties of best man.
“Nervous?”
Tripp glanced at his uncle. He refused to admit to pre-wedding jitters. Hell, when he analyzed it, what did he know about love and marriage, and all the rest? His personal experiences hadn’t given him much reason to trust the “weaker” sex. As a result, he’d held his emotions in check for years, never allowing himself a close relationship with any woman.
“Shaking like a leaf, Uncle Jake.”
His uncle grinned and gave Tripp an encouraging pat on the back.
Tripp watched Tess rush up the path leading to the gazebo and take her position. Breathless, the spritely woman smiled up at Tripp. “She’s ready.”
Tripp nodded to the pianist. At the first chords of the wedding march, the guests stood and turned expectantly toward the bride. Tripp watched as his son, tall and handsome, escorted his mother along the path leading to the koi pond.
His soul stood still.
Whatever doubts he’d had melted away.
****
The melodic notes of the Wedding March, mixing with the trilling of birds in the sunshine, carried the weight of the song—a pledge of fidelity and a promise for tomorrow.
A path wound its way to the koi pond. Standing at the top of the arched bridge, with her arm linked through her son’s, Honey Belle saw Tripp—tall and straight, his hair streaked with gold, his eyes blue but unwavering. A sense of peace flowed over her. Until this moment, she’d questioned her decision to marry Tripp. Now she felt grounded. This was where she belonged. With this man.
The center of all eyes, she drew a deep breath and began to walk forward in time to the music.
At the gazebo, she took her place in front of the altar.
The minister said, “Who gives this woman in marriage?”
Her heart swelled with love when JT placed her hand in Tripp’s and then placed his own over theirs. “I do, sir. I give my mother and father to each other.”
Honey Belle felt Tripp’s strong grasp and lowered her eyes, afraid to reveal how he moved her. She beseeched her thumping heart to be still, but her heart wasn’t listening.
The minister spoke. “Do you take this man as your husband?”
She clutched the flowers Tripp had gathered that morning from his mother’s garden. Tess had fashioned them into a bouquet, tied with a white ribbon. Honey Belle’s emotions felt as scattered as the scudding clouds in the sky.
She had dreamed of this moment, longed for it, planned for it. She allowed the clouds to carry away any doubts she had about binding herself to Tripp Harlan Hartwell the Third.
“Yes.” The word came strong and with assurance.
She listened as Tripp promised to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of his days. He steadied her hand as he slipped the Scottish Thistle and Celtic Knot wedding band on her finger.
Repeating her vows of devotion through sickness and sorrow, she eased the Scottish Rite Eagle ring over Tripp’s knuckle and saw the tenderness in his eyes as his gaze drifted over her.
The reverend pronounced them husband and wife. “You may kiss the bride.”
Tripp took her mouth gently. She felt the hunger in his kiss…and trembled.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tripp pressed the door to his bedroom shut and secured the lock. “Do you think we fooled them?”
Honey Belle stood in the middle of the dimly lit room. She suppressed a tremble. “It’s a well conceived plan. I have every confidence that JT and Aunt Tess pulled it off without a hitch. Everyone will think we’re off to our honeymoon.”
With his father’s failing health, Honey Belle had worried the Judge might not live until she and Tripp returned from a month-long romantic retreat.
“Our son was very smart to suggest he and Tess take our place in the limousine. With the darkened windows, no one will know the difference. And all the time we’ll be right here.”
With an audible sigh, Honey Belle placed Tripp’s hands around her waist. “How long do you think before someone finds out?”
He drew Honey Belle to his chest. “I told my secretary I was taking a hiatus in Australia, and I’d phone in for updates. With my father at the care center, I don’t have to worry about being away in case of an emergency.”
She sighed. “Do you suppose JT and Aunt Tess will enjoy trekking around Australia? It’s a little out of the ordinary for a seventeen-year-old and his elderly aunt to travel together.”
With the drapes drawn, the room was dark. Tripp released Honey Belle long enough to switch on a lamp. “You raised our son right, Honey Belle. JT loves and respects Tess. I’ll stake my life they come back with dozens of stories about their adventures, and photographs to match.”
“You don’t think any of your family members will alert the press about us, do you?”
“You know the old saying, ‘There’s always one bad apple in the barrel.’ If the press finds out, we’ll handle it together.”
He bent his head to claim her mouth. “Enough talk. Let’s begin our own adventure.”
Honey Belle teased, “Where are we going, Senator Hartwell?”
“To the island of love and exploration, Mrs. Hartwell.” He kissed her until she had no resistance left. And when he reached for the zipper on the back of her dress, she let him.
“Tripp,” she whispered, “I haven’t…not since…you.”
He slipped the dress off her shoulders. “You mean…never once? Not since the last time we made love at Folley Beach?”
She loved him so much her heart almost ached with happiness. “Uh-huh.”
She wanted to lose herself in him, to feel the touch of his hands, the taste of his mouth, the heat generated by their bodies. Just thinking about his hands caressing her again took her breath away. Her nipples began to tingle, and she felt an exotic warmth between her legs.
Moments later, the sheets on the bed felt cold against her naked skin, but not for long.
Tripp’s heart banged against his chest. Caught up in the emotions of the day, he suddenly felt inadequate and uncertain.
She patted the edge of the bed. “I thought it was the bride who was supposed to be nervous. Aren’t you going to undress? Or shall I do it for you?”
She watched as a war of emotions played across
his face. “What is it… Is it me?”
When he didn’t answer, she said, “Tripp, please, whatever it is that’s bothering you, let’s talk about it.”
The edge of the mattress sagged when he sat down. “My prosthetic leg is so much a part of me… If making love to a one-legged man repulses you, I’ll understand. I should have discussed this with you long before asking you to marry me.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. If you’d like to file for an annulment, I’ll not resist.”
She sat up, the sheet dropping away to reveal her breast as she took his hands and laced her fingers through his. Her voice was soft and gentle. “I don’t know much about your first wife, only what I heard on the television and in the papers, but she must have hurt you terribly for you to think I’d reject you for any reason. I love you, Tripp…your heart, your soul, your gentleness, the relationship you’ve built with our son.
“I’ve always known about your leg. All the media outlets were filled with your heroic deeds in Vietnam, and the loss of your leg. I wanted so much to hold you, to let you know how much I ached for you. I’m the one who was a coward. Trust me when I say I’ve never thought of you as anything other than the man I want to grow old and gray with. Please, let me see you—all of you.”
For Tripp, her words were a gift from God. Still hesitant, he slipped off his shoes. He removed his shirt, his slacks. He watched Honey Belle’s face, searching for the slightest repulsion. He detected no uneasiness, no roll of emotion when he unbuckled the straps, removed the artificial limb and then the protective stocking to reveal the stump that dangled below his knee. He didn’t turn to look at her just then. For some reason he couldn’t.
Honey Belle surprised him when she squeezed his hand, let go, and moved closer. She draped his arm around her and laid her head against his shoulder. He could smell her, soft, like orange blossoms, and warm. In that quiet moment, thunder rumbled in the distance. Their eyes met and Tripp’s senses reeled. He felt his loins stir.
There was tightness in his voice, and Honey Belle could hear his pain. “Are you sure, Honey Belle?”
She leaned in and felt the heat between them, felt his body tremble with the same anticipation she had felt the first time they were together so many years ago.
Lightning cut across the sky, and the thunder rolled, vibrating the old house. It felt right to be here. Everything felt right. The brewing storm made it even more perfect. And then rain pelted against the windowpanes, as if God had sent the rain to wash away years of hurt, doubt, and loneliness.
Honey Belle lifted her head and looked at him with hazy eyes, and Tripp kissed her softly on the lips. When she kissed him back, the years of separation dissolved into passion.
She took his hand and led it to her breasts, and a whimper rose in her throat as he gently touched them, and she was suddenly short of breath as he lowered his head and kissed between them and slowly sampled one and then the other.
Their bodies came together almost in slow motion, both of them trembling with the memory of what they had once shared, what they were about to share.
****
He was struck by her beauty, and the way her hair shimmered in the light. Her skin was soft and beautiful in the lamp’s glow. Her hands on his back beckoned him.
He lowered her to the bed. She arched as he rolled atop her in one fluid movement, and then he was on all fours above her, his knees astride her hips.
She lifted her head and kissed his chest, his shoulders, ran her hands through his hair as he held himself above her, his arm muscles straining from the exertion. With a tempting little frown she pulled him closer. He kissed every inch of her body, listening as she made soft whimpering sounds. And when they finally joined as one, she cried aloud, her fingers pressed hard into his shoulders.
****
She buried her face in his neck and felt him deep inside her, felt his strength and gentleness, felt the hurt ebb from his soul. She moved rhythmically against him, allowing him to take her wherever he wanted, to the place where they were meant to be.
She opened her eyes and watched him, marveling at his beauty as he moved above her. She saw his body glisten with sweat and tasted the saltiness of it with her tongue. Their bodies reflected everything given, everything taken, and she was rewarded with a sensation she’d forgotten existed. It went on and on, the ebb and flow, and she struggled to catch her breath while she trembled beneath him. But the moment it was over another wave overtook her, and she rode the crests one right after another, until her body was exhausted, yet unwilling to stop the pleasure between them.
****
They spent the day in each other’s arms, alternately making love and, when exhausted, napping. Sometimes Tripp would wake up and look at her, her body soft and radiant, and feel as if everything was suddenly right in his world.
Then, when they were ready, they would join together while he whispered endearments between kisses as they wrapped their arms around each other. They went on throughout the evening making up for the years they were apart.
Once when he was watching her in the moments before daybreak, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled and reached up to touch his face. He gently placed his fingers on her lips to keep her from speaking. It was as if she knew what he was thinking, and for a long moment neither of them spoke.
He fought to swallow the lump in his throat. When he was finally able to speak, he whispered, “You are the answer to every prayer I’ve offered. I never want to live without you again. I love you, Honey Belle, more than you can ever imagine. I always have and always will.”
He looked at her and found her eyes filled with unshed tears. For him. She smiled through the moisture, and he knew that somehow she understood all he was feeling.
“Oh, Tripp, I know it sounds like a cliché, but you really do make my heart sing.” She pulled him toward her, needing him again.
The feelings inside him rolled like ocean waves.
Their bodies sated with passion, Honey Belle took a shower, then Tripp. When he came out and found her asleep, he set his crutches aside and climbed into bed beside her and drew her close to his body, her curves molding perfectly to his.
A black cloud enveloped Tripp, threatening to obliterate the hours of happiness he’d shared with his new wife as thoughts of Kathryn slipped in. He pushed the memories aside.
Honey Belle’s eyes fluttered open as if she knew he was watching her. Her voice was heavy with sleep. “You’re wonderful…” Her voice trailed off into slumber.
Honey Belle’s words struck a deep chord in his heart. And while sleep overtook him, he thought about their future together and all the ways he planned to make her happy.
Chapter Thirty-Three
An off-key whistling drifted to Honey’s Belle’s ears. She had slept late, catching up on some much-needed rest. She shifted to a more comfortable position against the pillow. As much as she wanted to close her eyes and drift back to sleep, savory aromas of bacon and coffee drifted up to the bedroom, tantalizing her nose. Sitting up, she stretched and yawned. A man in the kitchen cooking breakfast, while she slept away the morning, was a fantasy come true.
Showered and dressed in tan khaki shorts, yellow T-shirt, and bare feet, and in high spirits, Honey Belle bounded downstairs to the kitchen. Tripp stood facing the stove. She slid her arms around his waist. The smell of his cologne, his clean hair, and his body overwhelmed her.
The heat of that body drew her closer. “I never knew a man could look so sexy while scrambling eggs.”
Tripp moved the frying pan from the burner and switched off the stove. He turned in Honey Belle’s arms. “And you, Mrs. Hartwell, look good enough to eat.”
Honey Belle stared deeply into his smoky-blue eyes. Very slowly, taking her time, never breaking eye contact, she raised her mouth to his. She parted her lips slightly and their breaths mingled. He tightened his hold around her waist and pressed his mouth hard against hers. She tasted the tip of his tongue.
As their tongues met and tasted one another, she felt as if the earth had shifted on its axis. She heard his sharply indrawn breath, felt the heat emanating from his body. When they finally parted, breathless and panting, nothing seeming the same as it had a moment before.
Honey Belle lifted a hand to Tripp’s cheek. “Wow.”
“Wow,” he repeated.
Her eyes met his and her breath seized in her chest. A fire burned in his eyes, and its heat focused on her. His mouth claimed hers with a passion that stole the breath from her throat and weakened her knees.
She clung to him, surrendering to an igniting desire so intense, she quivered. “Th-the eggs are getting cold.”
He groaned deep inside his throat. His lips nipped the column of her neck. “Forget about the eggs. I’m hungry for something else.”
She did not answer for a moment or two. She simply returned his penetrating gaze. Unexpected tears welled in her eyes. She swallowed hard, trying to push them back. She could not. Slowly they rolled down her cheeks. “You make me feel complete, whole.”
Tripp lifted his hand and wiped the tears away with his fingertips. As he kissed her cheeks and her eyes, he said against her damp face, “I’ve always loved you, Honey Belle. From now on there will be only happiness in our lives. I’m going to make sure of that.”
His words melted Honey Belle’s heart.
“When I was a little girl, I used to pull the petals off wild daisies, praying the last petal would say he loved me. Only I didn’t know until I met you who he was.”
She tucked her arm through his, and together they moved toward the stairs and their second-story bedroom. They had the rest of their lives together. Eternity.
A word about the author…
Loretta C. Rogers’ family roots are tied to the deep south. Her home overlooks a spring-fed creek where she enjoys watching otters, wood ducks, and an occasional alligator. When not writing, Loretta and her husband take road trips on their motorcycle.
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