“Is there a stream over there?” Buffy might not be an expert on countryside, but trees didn’t just line up that way without a reason.
“Hidden Creek,” he confirmed. “You can’t see it until you get real close, although the trees give it away.”
Hidden Creek, she mused. The town was following its tradition of naming things for precisely what they were. “Do you go there often?”
Carter slowed, easing onto a rutted dirt path that ran alongside the trees. “Not since high school.”
“You and Amy?” she guessed.
He ducked his head. “A few times. Nothing much happened, except for her smoking cigarettes.”
“Didn’t you and she ever... ?” Buffy supposed it was none of her business, but if people spent their whole lives minding their own business, they’d die of boredom.
“You mean...?” He didn’t finish his question, either. He didn’t need to. “Heck, no! We were kids.”
“That’s when people usually do things in places like this,” she pointed out.
“Not me!”
Was he angry? She hoped she hadn’t spoiled her chance of a little cuddling.
A heavy branch scraped the windshield and, for a chilling moment, she feared they were about to plunge into the unseen creek. Instead they pulled through an opening in the screen of trees and stopped in a clearing.
After Carter silenced the engine, Buffy heard the creek rustling very close. “You can’t get much more alone than this,” she said hopefully.
He sat staring into the dark. Buffy longed to stroke the muscular chest she’d been visualizing ever since she saw him with the baby last night. She didn’t quite dare, not until she was able to read his mood.
A ray of moonlight penetrated the branches and transformed his gray eyes to silver. Resting one arm along the back of the seat, Carter studied her. “You sure are a pretty lady.”
He was finally making his move! Buffy waited for more. And waited. And waited.
He seemed content to watch her in the moonlight. Oddly she found his restraint more exciting than a dozen polished caresses.
“The first time I saw you at that hotel, I imagined you could see right inside me,” he murmured after a seemingly endless series of nanoseconds had passed. “Like you could read my mind.”
“I wish I could.” She meant it.
“Then, when you landed here in Nowhere Junction, I was kind of leery,” Carter went on. “I couldn’t figure out what you were here for.”
“It’s not a secret any more.” She wished he’d hurry up and kiss her.
“I couldn’t believe it when you told me you were divorced,” he said. “How could a man give you up? You’re smart and fun to be around. You have incredibly soft hair, and those big green eyes, and a great body, although I guess a man shouldn’t mention that sort of thing, should he?”
“That depends on what he plans to do about it.” As Buffy scooted closer, Carter’s knee brushed her thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through her. His mouth looked firm, with a self-conscious twist that made it eminently kissable. Instinctively she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
“Buffy.” His hands gripped her shoulders. His breathing speeded, his eyelids closed halfway and his lips grazed hers.
A deep sigh welled from him, and he slipped his arm around Buffy’s waist as he kissed her harder. Happily she rumpled Carter’s hair and arranged herself on his lap. He was so big that he surrounded her, making her feel utterly safe.
“You can do that some more,” she said when he stopped.
“I don’t believe... I never thought...” His fingers stroked along her rib cage. “Would you mind if I...I mean, if I touched your...?”
She couldn’t recall having a man ask permission before, let alone be so overwhelmed he couldn’t complete a sentence. “You mean this?” She drew his hands up until they cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her sundress.
He groaned, deeply and heartily, as his thumbs explored her small nubs. Buffy had always been self-conscious about her size, yet now, as the tips sprang to attention, she felt voluptuous.
Leaning against Carter’s shoulder, she trailed kisses up his throat and undid the top buttons on his shirt so she could enjoy the unadorned expanse of muscles. “I like your chest, too,” she whispered.
Her comment inspired him to lower the spaghetti straps of her dress. Because of the skimpy design and her modest shape, she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, a fact that must by now be obvious.
“Beautiful,” Carter murmured. Any notion Buffy had of proceeding slowly vanished as, with easy power, he lowered her from his lap onto the truck seat and bent to claim her breasts with his mouth.
The entire front of her sundress had obligingly dropped, she discovered when his hot breath and eager tongue moved from one swelling mound to the other. A stray thought crossed Buffy’s mind, that she ought to call a halt. It disappeared quickly, never to be heard from again.
When Carter paused, she seized the chance to run her hand across the expanse of skin bared by a gap in his shirt. Down she stoked to the flat stomach, hardened by hours of sweaty labor.
His sharp intake of breath revealed the intensity of his reaction. It inspired her to give him even more. He deserved something special, Buffy thought.
With a delicious sense of acting naughty, she unworked his belt and slid the jeans lower. Male hardness sprang into her hands.
“Buffy, oh my gosh.” One of his palms stroked the inner silkiness of her thigh. “You don’t have to do this…Don’t stop!”
“I won’t.” She bent to take him in her mouth.
His whole body went rigid, and a cry of unbelieving pleasure tore from him. Buffy had never had any desire to do this to a man before. Carter was different. His joy infused her as if it were her own.
Halfway to a climax, he lifted her up and kissed her. Then he laid her along the seat and raised himself over her. Oh, wait. She hadn’t intended to go any further than this tonight. Not far enough to risk bringing another little Allie into the world, although it was the wrong time of the month.
Buffy was about to lodge a protest, when he bumped the gearshift and uttered a funny curse. While she was giggling about that, some other part of his anatomy hit the horn with a loud “Aoogah!” that sent her into a fit of laughter.
Helpless with mirth, she didn’t even know when he removed her panties. She felt the long hardness of him penetrate her, hesitate, and then push until his entire throbbing length made its home inside her. Buffy didn’t feel like laughing anymore. She lost herself in relishing a surge of incredible raw hunger and its simultaneous, massive solution.
“I didn’t know a man could be this large,” she whispered.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he whispered back. One fact about Carter, Buffy acknowledged in the small part of her brain that still functioned, was that once he committed to a course of action, he threw his full self into it. There were no more questions, and there was definitely no more asking permission.
When he bent to taste her breasts, the nip of his teeth put an edge to her pleasure. At the same time, his buttocks scythed rhythmically through the air as his unleashed masculinity sheathed and unsheathed itself, pressing her into the seat.
Buffy caught at his muscular forearms, trying to regain a measure of control. But she had freed the genie inside Carter and it was too late to push him back into the bottle. Besides, he was granting all sorts of wishes, including some she hadn’t made yet.
It surprised her when he let out a whoop. He hadn’t even climaxed yet, so she supposed it was his way of announcing his plans. His unrestrained enjoyment was so precious and rare that she found herself smiling again.
And gasping. Because if she’d thought he couldn’t master her any harder, she’d been wrong.
“Oh! Carter!” She clutched his hips and drew herself along him, not minding the cramped space of the truck cab. Nothing mattered but the heat of his shaft radiating through her
, all the way to the points of her breasts and the tips of her toes.
In her arms, he vibrated so hard the entire vehicle rocked. He shouted her name, he growled, he moaned, and then he held himself stock-still, poised over her, as if transported to another plane of existence.
Buffy didn’t wait for him. Up, up she soared, through the trees and above the little town of Nowhere Junction, into an everywhere connection. Her molecules expanded until it was hard to believe they would ever return.
Carter cried out and flew with her. They completed several circuits around the solar system and explored the far reaches, discovering new planets and demonstrating the potency of life on earth to a host of astonished aliens.
Eons later, he sank down, sighing in satisfaction. Slowly, Buffy’s molecules chink-chinked together into a form she might recognize in a mirror.
There wasn’t room for them to lie side by side, so Carter angled Buffy partly on top of him. She pressed her cheek against his chest and nestled there.
There was no need to talk. They’d said everything without words.
*
Carter had never dared to hope for anything like this. He hadn’t meant to take advantage of Buffy, but he didn’t think she minded.
He’d never dreamed that he would lose his virginity in a tow truck. It hadn’t been as clumsy as he would have expected. In fact, it had been downright ecstasy. Still, he’d like to try it in a bed, too.
The formality of asking her to marry him seemed almost unnecessary. Of course they would get married. A man and woman didn’t do this unless they loved each other. They could work out the details later.
A twinge of apprehension pierced Carter’s bliss. Where Buffy was concerned, he should take nothing for granted. The sooner they tied the knot, the better.
In the meantime, they had no business lying half naked on the front seat of his truck, within spitting distance of Hidden Creek. It was hardly a decent place for a respectable—well, almost respectable—man and woman to linger.
“We should head home.” Carefully he righted himself and helped Buffy into a sitting position.
“I suppose so.” Hair obscured her face as she pulled up the straps of her dress and groped around for her underpants.
Carter began to fasten his clothing and tried, in vain, to figure out the exact right words to convey his love. He wished he had a direct line to Quade, with his vast vocabulary and presence of mind. On second thought, this wasn’t the sort of thing a man should entrust to someone else’s sensibilities. “We need to talk. Now that we’re, er...”
“Can it wait until morning?” Buffy wriggled into her underwear.
“Fair enough.” The prospect of spending the night with her and possibly repeating this experience in a bed made him wish the tow truck would sprout wings.
When it came to chitchat, tomorrow would be more than soon enough.
*
The ringing of the phone woke Carter. He opened his eyes to a wash of sunshine and realized he’d slept late. Then he remembered that it was Sunday, so it didn’t matter.
His leg muscles had a cramp from last night. The rest of him felt uncommonly fine. Beside him lay the most beautiful woman in the universe, all curled up and as blonde as ever. Her sweet perfume infused the room, and his soul.
The bedside phone rang again. The damn thing had no respect for occasion. Carter fumbled for the handset. “Murchison’s Garage.”
The man at the other end identified himself by a name that sounded like Royce Bingo, and asked for Buffy. Carter rolled over and woke her. In response to his whispered question, she said, “That’s Boyce Fringo, my lawyer. I’ll take it.”
Why was a lawyer calling on a Sunday? If it concerned her credit card, surely it could wait.
Carter handed her the receiver, stretching the cord tight. Without a trace of self-consciousness, Buffy leaned over him to conduct her conversation.
Her satiny breasts landed atop his chest, and her shapely derriere peeked from beneath the covers. Silk-soft hair trailed across his sensitized skin.
Carter felt himself growing hard, until Buffy’s end of the conversation distracted him. Then it alarmed him.
“Really...? She said that...? But where is it...? Ohmigosh, can he do that...? You know he doesn’t mean it! I don’t see how I can... Well, yes, I do see... Of course. I’ll call you when I get there.” She replaced the receiver on the cradle. “This is awful.”
Carter especially distrusted the I’ll-call-you-when-I-get-there part. “You’re not leaving.”
“You won’t believe what that rat Roger is doing.” Buffy unrolled herself from the covers and snatched her bathrobe from the back of a chair.
“Come back here and explain.” The command hung in the air as she paced out of the room.
Carter was about to tear after her when he heard the clink of dishes from the kitchen. Mazeppa.
She’d been asleep on the living room couch next to the baby’s portable crib when they arrived home last night. Obviously she was up and at ’em now. Carter couldn’t go rampaging around the house naked.
He found his bathrobe and, wrapping it in place, stalked into Buffy’s room just as she yanked her suitcase open on the couch. “What’s going on?” Then he saw that she was crying. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Roger,” she sobbed. “He dumped Yoko and went back to L.A. She got mad and for revenge, told my lawyer Roger’s been hiding a whole bunch of money from the divorce settlement.”
That her ex-husband was a liar came as no surprise, given what Carter had heard about the man. “That sounds like good news. Your lawyer should be happy.”
“He is,” she conceded. “He hasn’t been paid, the bills are way overdue and he wants Roger’s money now.”
“Okay.” Carter strained to introduce a note of calm. “I don’t see why that requires you running back to California.”
“Because Roger says he’ll demand custody of Allie unless I sign away every penny!” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
That ugly-hearted man didn’t realize who he’d just come up against, Carter mused. “I’m Allie’s father. If you’re worried about the lawyer’s bills, I’ll pay them. I can always mortgage the garage.”
Astonished eyes met his. “You’re the most wonderful man in the world. If only it were that simple.”
“What’s complicated about it?”
“Under California law, Allie is Roger’s daughter because of our marriage, regardless of the DNA results,” she said. “I can waive my share of the money, but I’m not sure I can waive hers.”
All these legal issues struck Carter as a mite confusing, so he kept his focus on the main point. “I still don’t see why you have to go in person.”
“Roger finagled a court date this Wednesday. There’s hardly even time to prepare!” Buffy wiped away tears with the heel of her hand. “He’s only seeking custody to be spiteful, but he might get it. He’s rich and important and I’m a nobody. What judge would pick me?”
The solution was obvious. “We’ll get married,” Carter said. “That way, you have a home to offer Allie. A two-parent home with her biological father. We’ll go see Pastor O’Rourke tomorrow.”
Buffy sniffled. “You’d do that?”
“I’d do anything for my little girl, even make a fool of myself in church.” He drew her close and kissed the top of her head. “It might be a simple wedding, but who cares about that?”
He felt her grow rigid in his arms. He wasn’t sure why, until she said; “Well, we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m still married to Roger,” she said.
*
Carter’s body hurt worse than the time he’d skidded on motor oil and cracked two ribs against a Jeep. Buffy had led him to believe she was free to make love, something he would never, ever have done with a married woman.
Maybe, by her lights, she was free—to have a fling, anyway. Permanence, commitment, marriage, the things he wanted with all
his swollen-to-ten-times-its-normal-size heart, apparently hadn’t entered her mind.
He knew Buffy hadn’t deliberately deceived him. She’d simply been doing what came naturally, acting on impulse and enjoying the moment. It was this joyful unpredictability that drew him to her, he admitted. And which had kept him at bay, although not quite long enough.
He’d known better. He just hadn’t expected the consequences of his heedlessness to arrive this fast.
*
What was eating Carter? Buffy wondered when he drew away. She was the one who ought to be offended, after he’d as much as said that marrying her meant sacrificing his dignity for his daughter’s sake.
“I slept with a married woman.” He shook his head. “You told me you were divorced.”
“I am, practically.” Buffy didn’t recall exactly what she’d said, but that seemed an accurate response. “It’s almost final, and Roger was living with another woman.”
“Decent men don’t carry on with married women. Not in this town, they don’t.” Carter’s strained tone rang with disapproval of his own conduct. And, by implication, hers, too.
“Decent married men don’t carry on with lingerie models or pay for their boob jobs, either!” Her nerves already rubbed raw, Buffy was in no mood to take criticism lying down or in any other position. “Excuse me if I don’t subscribe to your small-town provincialism.”
“Is that what you think I am? A hick from the sticks?” Carter ran a hand through his thick hair, as if doing so might stimulate his brain. “I’ve always had a weakness for fast-living women like you, and I knew it was a mistake, but I... This is my own fault, I guess.”
His attraction to her was a weakness? And what did he mean by “women like you”? “I’m doing you a favor by leaving, then.” To her embarrassment, Buffy felt her lower lip quiver.
“You can’t believe I’ll give up my daughter,” Carter said. “You’re the one who brought her here so I could fall in love with her. Besides, I know my responsibilities, even if your.. .husband doesn’t.”
She had to acknowledge a certain justice to his remarks. Besides, no matter how annoyed she was at Carter, Buffy would never deny Allie a chance to know her real father. “Once I get this mess in L.A. straightened out, we’ll arrange for visitation. But first I have to keep her out of Roger’s hands.”
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