Because of Francie

by Karen Rose Smith

  "I told Veronica I'd stop at the rink for a while this afternoon," Francie said as she relaxed against him.

  "But I'm the boss." He teased her nipple back and forth as if that might convince her to play hooky.

  "You're not playing fair," she groaned.

  "Who's playing?"

  She sighed and turned in his arms, placing her hands on his chest to keep him at a distance. Her brown eyes danced with desire. "Uncle Dom just finished putting up the chairs. Listen."

  "I don't hear anything."

  "That's my point. He'll be in here in a minute and so will Aunt Rita. She can clean the living room for only so long. How will it look if we're..."

  Noah smiled wickedly. "Making out?"

  "Noah..."

  "We don't have much time left, Francie. A couple of days. Come back to the apartment with me." He felt guilty as soon as he said it because the sadness in her eyes almost chased the desire away.

  She fingered the front of his flannel shirt, teased a few of the curling hairs in the open V with her forefinger, sending a ripple of longing through him. "You know I want to be with you. Let me call Veronica. She's been taking over so much lately. Maybe we could stop in at the rink before we come to the party."

  "You won't be dressed for skating."

  "If it was up to you, I wouldn't be dressed at all," Francie teased with a smile that said she truly didn't mind.

  He pulled her into a tight hug, loving the feel of her in his arms, the feel of her in his life. "Go call Veronica. I'll keep my fingers crossed that none of the staff is out sick today."

  ****

  Despite the noise, despite the bedlam of friends and relatives moving in and out of rooms congratulating the anniversary couple, despite the small children running here and there, Noah kept his eyes on Francie. She was a vision in her magenta sweater-dress with her hair curled in spirals from the crown to the tips. High heels suited her even better than skates. When they'd stopped in at the rink, everyone had done a double-take.

  She came to his side now and he curved his arms around her waist. "Your parents were surprised."

  She laughed. "I never saw Pop blush before. But they're enjoying themselves now."

  Angela and Paul sat on the sofa opening presents. They were down to the last one. Gina handed them a blue box with a white ribbon and Noah realized it was his. Angela looked up at him but didn't smile.

  Francie caught the interchange. "What did you get them?"

  "You'll see in a minute."

  Paul tore off the wrappings to find a collection of fifties and sixties music. A big grin split his face. Angela got up from the sofa and came over to Noah while Paul shuffled through the CD's.

  She said, "Thank you, Noah. Maybe I can get him to dance with me again. Those were the songs we fell in love to, raised our family with. But you didn't have to buy us a present."

  "You've been more than kind to me. I appreciate being able to share your celebration."

  Angela hesitated a moment, then hugged him. The older woman's affection felt unusual, but welcome. His mother had never been big on hugs. Angela murmured softly so that only he could hear, "You, too, could have this kind of celebration someday."

  When she leaned back, she studied him.

  A voice whispering in his heart asked, Could it be possible?

  Paul called for his wife. "Come here, Angela. The kids want to give us something."

  She rejoined her husband on the sofa. "You already gave us this wonderful party. What more could we want?"

  Vince handed his father an envelope. "We thought you could use a little time away. We made you reservations for tonight--the honeymoon suite at the Comfort Inn here in town. Then tomorrow you can drive to the Poconos and have three days alone together to do whatever you'd like. Pop, I've rerouted all your calls for the next few days, and Mama, Gina rescheduled your appointments."

  "The Poconos," Paul mused, examining the brochure. "I've always wanted to try to ski."

  Angela playfully punched him in the arm. With tears in her eyes, she looked at her children gathered around them. "The vacation makes us happy." She gazed at Francie. "But having all of you here, together, makes us happier."

  Noah backed up a step, the pain stabbing him so intense he closed his eyes for a moment. But he could still see the portrait of the Piccard family. Angela and Paul in the center. Vince and Frank and their families standing in the back, little Marie in Vince's arms. Gina on one arm of the sofa. Francie on the other.

  Suddenly passion was nothing compared to the need for love and being loved, the need for family and someone special to make a life with.

  He'd never even dreamed of it because he'd believed it could never be within his grasp. Was a different life possible? Was there an answer to traveling for the business?

  Both questions seemed monumental, their answers too complicated to figure out now. Now he needed Francie in his arms.

  After Angela and Paul cut the anniversary cake, with much laughter they repeated the ritual of feeding it to each other. They chatted with their guests a while longer, then left to pack for their mini-vacation. Noah helped Francie and her family clean up the party remnants.

  As Noah folded chairs and Francie picked up stray paper cups, Gina flopped into an armchair. "I wanted to tell you guys that Jake and his friends were picked up Friday night for DUI."

  "Good for them," Noah commented.

  "Exactly what does that mean?" Francie asked.

  "It's Jake's second offense so he'll lose his license for a year. I don't know about the others."

  "I'm thankful they'll be off the streets." Francie stacked the empty cups.

  "I'm thankful I didn't keep seeing him and get caught with him."

  Noah and Francie exchanged a look. Gina saw it. "I know doing it is wrong. But getting caught's the worst."

  Francie rolled her eyes.

  "So...," Gina drawled. "Speaking of getting caught. I'll be staying over at Lisa's tonight. Mama and Pop said because I helped you guys arrange the party, I deserve a night out of the house. So since they'll be gone tonight, you can stay with Noah."

  Noah had to smile at Francie's discomfiture. Her face was almost the same color as her dress.

  Gina pointed out, "I do know what goes on. I have eyes and ears I got from Mama."

  Francie brushed her hair from her forehead, a gesture Noah knew meant she was unnerved.

  Gina shrugged and hopped up from the chair. "You don't have to tell me if you are or aren't. I know Noah will be gone in a few days. Frank's going to drop me off at Lisa's. I'll see you tomorrow."

  After Gina left the room, Francie looked uncertain.

  "She's right," Noah agreed. "I'd like you to stay the night."

  "I don't know, Noah."

  "Think about it."

  ****

  It was funny. Francie felt awkward when she went back to her parents' house and stood in the kitchen with Noah...alone. They'd never been alone in the house before. She'd wanted to come by to make sure everything was locked and secure.

  As she checked the back door, Noah asked, "Is there anything you'd like me to do?"

  "Make sure the cellar door's closed. I'm going upstairs to pack an overnight bag."

  He grinned, took her in his arms, and kissed her soundly. His voice was husky when he raised his head. "You'd better hurry that packing, or we'll end up in your bed."

  In case he was serious, Francie backed away and took off up the stairs. A sensual side of her she'd never known existed manifested itself when she made love with Noah. Maybe in the back of her mind she thought that if he could only see, feel, and hear how much she loved him, he'd stay, or at least talk about the future. She couldn't give up hoping, not when she loved him so deeply.

  She'd bought something special and worn it tonight. She couldn't wait to see his face when she took off her slip.

  The phone rang and Noah yelled, "I'll get it."

  This late at night...A sense of foreboding overtook Fran
cie, but she brushed it aside. Maybe her parents had forgotten something.

  But when Noah appeared in her bedroom doorway with a grim look on his face, she dropped the nightgown onto the bed. "What is it?"

  "The skating rink's on fire."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Noah pushed through the gathering crowd, Francie close behind him. The dispatcher from Adams County Control had only told him that engines had been dispatched, nothing more. He hoped to God this was minor. But as they reached the cordoned-off area, he knew better.

  Smoke rolled out the windows of the rink. Firemen seemed to be everywhere with their black jackets, black helmets, fluorescent orange stripes. A tanker, two engines, and a squad truck zigzagged in front of the building. He'd noticed another engine around back.

  Noah said to Francie, "Stay here."

  "I'm going with you."

  "I just want to find someone who knows--" He began.

  "We'll find someone together."

  He wanted to give her a hug and tell her everything would be all right, but he didn't know if it would be.

  A fireman standing at one of the engines in a white jacket and white hat caught Noah's attention so he headed that way. After Noah introduced himself he said, "I own the rink. How bad is it?"

  The fire chief pushed his hat back on his head. "We're not sure. I ordered a foam hose into the kitchen from the back. The supply room and kitchen are the areas we're fighting. I'll know more in a while. All you can do is wait."

  It seemed as if they waited a lifetime, but it was only a half hour until firemen exited the building and then returned to the interior with tarps and exhaust fans. Noah learned they were the clean-up crew who poked around for hot spots and dispersed the smoke.

  Noah looked over at Francie. Her high heels looked uncomfortable, her cream-colored dress coat not as warm as her down jacket. Her nose was red in the blaze of the spotlights, and she'd shoved her hands into her pockets.

  "Let's go back to the apartment. Someone will call us when they're finished."

  "I don't want to leave."

  All too well he knew how determined she could be. "Then let's go sit in the car."

  In the car, Noah held Francie as they watched the outside activity diminish, as they watched the cold night air chase onlookers back into their houses. Only the remaining fire crew and a newsman and cameramen still bustled around the building.

  An hour later, the fire chief came to Noah's car.

  Noah rolled down the window. "Do you know what caused it yet?"

  "Looks to me like a faulty outlet in the supply room."

  Noah had expected that. He remembered his own thoughts when he first saw the supply room. "Faulty?"

  "I guess 'old' is a better word. There were inside breaks, and when the broken wires touch metal you have heat. Spontaneous combustion. Did you smell anything funny in there lately?"

  "Yes," Francie answered. "The other day. But I didn't smell it again."

  "It looked like you had an overhead light plugged in there. My guess is you didn't use it all the time."

  "We didn't," Francie murmured.

  "Probably somebody left it on this evening. With the paper goods in there, the wood floor, and the kitchen close by, you're lucky the whole place didn't go up in flames."

  "What's the damage?" Noah asked.

  "I can take you through now, then we can seal it off."

  When they entered the front doors, the stench almost overwhelmed Francie--smoke, water, burned materials. Except for smoke lingering in the air, the rink area looked fine. But when she saw the snack bar, the kitchen, and the supply room, she wanted to cry. Black everywhere. Charred wood. Stained walls and floors. There were no words for it.

  The images lingered as Noah quickly ushered her through and back out into the night. As they drove to the apartment, she knew it would be a long time until she could forget the sights and smells of the rink on fire.

  Noah opened her car door for her and she got out, still feeling dazed.

  "Do you want to call your parents?"

  "There's no point. I don't want to spoil their night. There's nothing they can do." She felt tears push to her eyes.

  Noah wrapped her in his arms. "Let's go upstairs."

  Right now she didn't care what "looked good" or about the proper thing to do. She needed Noah.

  He let her into what she now thought of as "his" apartment. They'd made love here every night and some days since Thursday. At least she had made love to him. He hadn't said he loved her. Gina's words had put the whole thing in perspective. Noah will be gone.

  Francie laid her coat on the sofa and wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you think it's chilly up here?"

  Noah tossed his coat on top of hers. "Come here."

  The wind had rumpled his hair. He'd tugged down his tie and opened the top button of his shirt. The thought of peeling it back over his shoulders took her chill away and momentarily made her forget about the condition of the rink. She went to him and he wrapped his arms around her.

  She couldn't keep the question inside any longer. "What's going to happen? What are we going to do about the rink?"

  His hesitation should have been a warning signal. But she wasn't looking for warning signals; she was looking for answers.

  He held her tighter and smoothed her hair away from her face. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

  With that, he kissed her. His hand stroking her hair and his tongue exploring her mouth created feelings that made talking useless and feelings too intense to ignore. Somehow she had to convince Noah they could have a life together, that they could combat any obstacle, solve any problem. As long as they loved each other, nothing was impossible.

  But what if he didn't give her the chance to convince him? Tears rushed to her eyes. She had sworn she wouldn't do this; she wouldn't blackmail him with tears.

  He must have sensed her emotional upheaval. Leaning back, he lifted her chin. She blinked, but not fast enough. Noah kissed her tears away.

  She kept her arms linked around his neck. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave. Ever." She thought she might see anger, but she didn't. She only saw sadness a moment before his lips captured hers again.

  Noah wanted to reassure her, wanted to calm her fears. But he couldn't. Driving back here tonight, he'd made the rational decision to sell the rink. It was the only logical option.

  Money was too tight. Until the insurance company settled, until he hired contractors, until they repainted, recarpeted, rebuilt, there would be no profit coming in. He might be able to weather it, but he didn't want to sell another rink or go into debt. It had taken years to become successful. Craig had almost ruined that success.

  Noah felt Francie's soft, warm body pliant against his. He needed her tonight. He needed to forget he'd be leaving in a few days. If he told her about his decision...

  He was afraid she'd pull away. He was afraid she'd see it as rejection. He was afraid he'd lose her for this little amount of time he had left with her. He hadn't thought ahead to what would happen after he went back to Richmond. More traveling, for sure. That was his life now. How could Francie and a relationship fit into that?

  Didn't they deserve tonight with no barriers, no pulling away, no fighting that could tear them apart? Right now, tonight was all he wanted, all he needed. He couldn't give it up.

  Francie's tongue tangled desperately with his. Her arms tightened and her fingers delved into his hair. She seemed to need him as much as he needed her. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle the aftermath of the fire. Tomorrow they would face the problems. Tonight he would hold her and pleasure her and try to show her how much he cared.

  He was going to take her on a slow journey this time, a journey that would tell her all the things he couldn't say. He didn't have any answers, only questions. He knew he had to go back to Richmond and attend to business. He knew he might be ready for some changes. But he hadn't analyzed the changes or what the future could hold.

&nbs
p; Noah let his lips and tongue and hands tease and court Francie. As he kissed and stroked through her dress, she sighed, moaned, and pressed into him with the same wanton desire surging through him. The three small buttons at the neck of her dress became as difficult to undo as a Chinese puzzle because he could taste her, smell her, feel her so close. Then there was the sweater belt looped in a simple square knot. But he was too agitated, too hungry for any of it to be simple.

  He helped her out of her dress, dispensed with her slip, and stared. The garter belt almost made him forget that slow existed.

  Francie reached out to him and he remembered.

  He placed her hands on his shoulders, wanting to give her something special, something he'd never wanted to give a woman before. "Not yet. I want to touch you, look at you, remember you."

  She didn't say anything, but her eyes became shiny, too shiny for him to deal with. He needed to put passion there instead of longing, desire instead of dreams.

  With a flick of his wrist, he unsnapped the bra and knelt before her.

  "Noah?"

  "Just hold on, sweetheart. Hold on."

  Touching her as if he'd never touch her again, he smoothed over her breasts, teased the lace band of her panties, and played with the straps of her garter belt. "You're so sexy, so soft...so loving. You've given me precious gifts, Francie."

  "Then why go? Why leave? Can't we...?"

  She stopped and he realized she wouldn't apply any pressure. Not now when they were this close, this intimate, this together. He rolled her stockings down one leg, then the other.

  Brushing his hands up and down her thighs, he looked up and saw her parted lips, her flushed face, her glistening eyes. He stripped off her garter belt and panties, brushed up and down her thighs again, then replaced his hands with his lips.

  When she moaned, he murmured, "Open for me, sweetheart."

  She curled her fingers on his shoulders as she balanced herself, never questioning what he needed, never questioning the intimacy he wanted to share. He cupped the dark curls at the apex of her thighs.