A Promise of Forever

by Marilyn Pappano

  Exactly where she wanted him.

  * * *

  Light shone dimly down the hall from the living room, a sort of night light for grown-ups, not bright enough to intrude but enough to keep darkness at bay. Ben lay on his back, Avi at his side, her hair falling over his shoulder and arm like cool silk. Her breathing had been as slow as his to settle, their sweat gradually drying, their heart rates eventually returning to normal. Her delicate hand was splayed across his chest, a source of warmth, a reassuring touch.

  Neither of them had spoken since he’d retrieved a condom from the table, except for a few breathless Ohs from her. Now he turned onto his side, gathering her close against him, and said, “I guess that was a damn good burger.”

  She laughed, the sound surprised from her but no less amused. “Well,” she said, “you bought me breakfast and dinner. If I’d said no, you might have decided I was playing hard to get.” Then she shook a finger at him. “Which, for the record, I am. I don’t have sex with just any guy who asks.”

  “I never thought you did.”

  She gazed at him a moment. “What about you?”

  “I don’t have sex with just any guy who asks, either.” When she poked him with that pointing finger, he said, “Ow. On the other hand, I’m a guy. If a woman asks, I’m honor-bound by my gender to say yes.”

  Mouth pursed, she made a pfft sound. “Why aren’t you married, Doc?”

  He remembered a time when a woman saying the m word in any context would have stirred his self-preservation instinct. A woman saying it in bed after great sex would have freaked him out. Was it age, security, and the desire to get married that changed things? Or was it this woman? “Work. Twelve-hour days, surgery, Saturday clinics. No time to meet anyone.”

  “And yet you met me.” She preened, fluttering her lashes, doing a good job of playing coy, at least until her smile destroyed the illusion.

  “I’m glad I did. And for the record, I was glad before this.” He gestured to the two of them and the bed. “Now I’m ecstatic.”

  “Wow, I don’t know that I’ve ever made anyone ecstatic before.”

  Lifting his hand, he stroked through her hair, curling the strands, letting it go. “Why aren’t you married?”

  “War. Twelve-month tours in the desert. Frankly, if I never see desert again—any desert—I’ll be ecstatic.”

  “Lucky for you, then, that Georgia’s not desert.”

  “Nope. It encompasses the best of the South. Mild winters, hot summers, high humidity, biscuits as an art form, collard greens, and mustard-and-vinegar barbecue sauces.”

  And an Army post filled with soldiers who had interests and a career in common. Guys who’d experienced the frequent moves and appreciated the nomadic nature of the lives they’d chosen. Surely she’d find one of them suitable for marriage and fathering her kids. He hoped she did. Really. It wasn’t like he would ever put himself in the running. His career, his life, and his home were here in Tulsa. Always had been, always would be.

  He focused his thoughts on the least important part of her statement. “You like collard greens?”

  Eyes narrowing, she scowled at the incredulity in his voice. “Collard greens, when prepared right, are a gift from the gods. Popi loved them, so GrandMir cooked them two or times a week when they were in season.”

  He feigned a shudder. “They sound nasty.”

  “Sound? You mean, you’ve never had them?” Now she was the one sounding incredulous. “What other Southern delicacies have you missed out on? Boiled peanuts? Pork cracklins?”

  “You eat cracklins, then kiss me with that mouth?” He wrestled her onto her back and discovered a ticklish spot just beneath her ribs, making her laugh and shriek.

  When he stopped, she gazed up at him, catching her breath. “Actually, I don’t eat boiled peanuts or cracklins. The smell is just more than I can handle.” Her voice trailed away with each word until it was barely a whisper at the end. Slowly she raised her hands to his face, cradling her palms to his cheeks, and pulled him low for a kiss.

  That was all it took—one kiss, and the desire and the heat and the tension were instantaneous, flaming to life, building with each breath, each touch, until it exploded again through them both, leaving them lying once more in the dim light, breathing ragged, pulses pounding, bodies throbbing.

  It was a long time before either of them moved or spoke. Finally, Avi lifted her head, gathered her hair in one hand, and pushed it over her shoulder. “Are you tired?”

  Sprawled facedown on the bed beside her, he opened one eye. “This is the aftermath of ecstatic,” he mumbled.

  She snorted. “It looks like I’m-exhausted-and-have-to-get-up-at…what time do you have to get up tomorrow?”

  “Five. My first surgery is at six.”

  “Ouch. When’s the last?”

  “Five thirty. One of my regular patients dislocated her wrist so today we added her to the schedule. I should be out by seven.”

  “Long day. For your patients’ sake, and your own, you need a good night’s sleep.”

  “Hm.” He closed his eye, then opened it again. “Can you spend the night?”

  A smile lit her face. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a date back in Tallgrass. I fed Sundance before I left, but if she doesn’t get to go out before bedtime, she and I will both be in trouble.”

  He turned onto his side. “Next time you should bring her.” He definitely wanted a next time, and though he’d never allowed anything that walked on all fours in his apartment—besides his nephews—dog hair on his carpet and dog spores on his furniture seemed a small price to pay for Avi in his bed.

  Her expression solemn, she softly said, “I’d like that.” For a moment, she just continued to look at him, then suddenly she rolled out of bed and walked around to his side, beautifully, unselfconsciously naked. “But this time I have to go. The baby’s probably huddled at the back door, legs crossed, watching the clock.”

  She found her bra, panties, and skirt on the rug beside the bed and her top hanging from the knob of a dresser drawer, and took them into the bathroom with her. While she got dressed, he got up and stepped into his discarded trousers, then a pair of leather flip-flops.

  When she came out again a few minutes later, looking as gorgeous as when she’d first arrived, she grinned. “You don’t have to see me out.”

  “My dad would haunt me if I didn’t. He had very particular ideas about the way I should treat my dates, and since I can’t walk you to the door of your house, I can at least walk you to your car.”

  “Gee, I’m impressed. I’ve known a few guys who wouldn’t even get out of bed to say good night.” In the hallway, she stopped to pick up her purse, then her left shoe, then the right. At the doorway, she slid the sandals on, then as they walked down the stairs, she slipped her hand into his.

  Her car was parked a few spaces from the door. She unlocked it, tossed her purse into the passenger seat, then faced him. “Thank you for the best time I’ve had in a long, long time.”

  “I should be thanking you. It takes two…”

  “To tango?” she finished helpfully. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body snug against his. “Let’s just call it great fun.” Bending his head, he kissed her, and she was quick to kiss him back, rising onto her toes, pressing even closer. His entire body was responding when he finished the kiss. He didn’t want to. He wanted to take her straight back to the loft, straight back to bed, and forget about surgery and Sundance and everything but her.

  But those weren’t options in the real world, so he kissed her again, stepped back to watch her get into the car, then smiled at her. “I’ll call you.”

  Her smile was light and seductive in spite of its innocence as she closed the door, buckled in, and started the engine. Standing on the sidewalk, he watched her back out, then drive off with a flirty wave.

  It wouldn’t be long, he realized, before he would be saying go
od-bye to her for the very last time.

  * * *

  Avi slept soundly, awakening Tuesday morning energized and in the best mood ever. After breakfast, she put a leash on Sundance and took the dog out for a walk through the neighborhood, passing quiet houses, greeted occasionally by other dogs barking from their backyards. The buzz of a lawnmower reminded her that her parents’ yard needed a trim before they arrived home Saturday evening, which made her think of her mom, which made her wonder what Beth would think of Ben. There was no doubt in Avi’s mind that her mother would like him, though she wouldn’t be thrilled to know that they’d already slept together. When I met your father, a lot of Beth’s moral tales began, a counterpart to GrandMir’s Back in my day…

  Avi looked forward to some distant day when she could turn to her grown child and say When I met your dad…

  Sundance trotted along, happily eyeing everything as if seeing it for the first time, when a woof rumbled from the back of the house they were approaching. Sundance stopped, planting her giant paws on the grass beside the sidewalk, and stared at the mutt peering around the corner of the house. Her responding yip sounded like it came from a pint-size pooch and earned a louder rumble, then the bigger dog started toward them.

  Recognizing him, Avi followed the puppy into the grass. “Hey, pretty boy, how are you today?” she crooned, and Norton picked up speed. She held Sundance’s leash tightly at her side, wanting leverage to yank if the meeting didn’t go well, but Norton wasn’t going to be aggressive. He dropped to his back as soon as he reached her, his paws flopping in air, and gave her a giant doggy smile, tongue hanging out. Sundance sniffed him thoroughly, then sat down to scratch herself while Avi crouched to scratch him.

  “Norton? Aw, jeez, Norton! I swear, I’m sending you to live with your father!”

  “Come on, buddy, before you find yourself homeless.” Avi stood, tugged Sundance’s leash, and started to the back of the house. Norton happily trotted along beside them. They rounded the corner in time to see Lucy locking her back door, apparently on her way out to look for her dog. “It was our fault this time,” Avi said as a greeting. “He wanted to meet Sundance.”

  Lucy’s scowl morphed into a smile. “Hey, Avi. Trust me, I don’t lay blame for Norton’s behavior on anyone but Norton. Well, and Joe. He’s way too lenient.”

  “The father you just threatened him with?”

  “I swear, the two of them conspire to see how high they can make my blood pressure go. But,” she grudgingly went on, “Joe does let him out if I’m gone from home longer than I planned, he feeds him half the time, and he takes him to the vet and plays with him a lot.”

  “So sending Norton to live with him would make them both happy.”

  Lucy nodded, then gestured to Sundance. “She’s a pretty one.”

  “She belongs to my parents. They’re on vacation, so she’s keeping me company.” Avi realized she was glad of that, especially with Ben gone back to Tulsa. The company was nice.

  “Want to have a seat? I have a fresh pitcher of iced tea.”

  “Thanks.” As Lucy went back inside, Avi gave the setter’s leash another tug, crossed to the patio table, and sat down. Norton went with them, dropping to his belly and wiggling into the shade underneath. After a moment circling, Sundance copied his actions.

  Lucy was back out in a few minutes, balancing a tray with a pitcher of tea, two tall glasses of ice, and a small dish of sweetener and sugar packets. She took the chair opposite, filled both glasses, and handed one over. “I’ve met your parents a time or two,” she said. “They’re great people.”

  “Yeah, they are. I’m really anxious to see them.” It was true. Though she’d planned the first week of her leave to coincide with their cruise, she was really looking forward to their homecoming. For a while, she wanted nothing more important in her life than being Beth and Neil’s daughter…and Ben’s fling.

  “Your father went to West Point with George, didn’t he?”

  Avi nodded. “Did you know him?”

  “Yeah, but not long enough. I love Patricia, but I never wanted her to become eligible for membership in the margarita club.”

  “She mentioned that. It’s a widows’ support group?”

  “It started that way, but we’ve become friends with a fondness for Mexican food and margaritas. The deaths of our husbands brought us together, but we share a lot more now.”

  Avi wasn’t sure what proper manners called for, but she took a stab that Lucy, like Patricia, wanted to keep her husband’s memory alive. “When did your husband die?” she asked softly.

  Lucy’s expression was bittersweet, heartache softened by time and made bearable by love. “Seven years ago. He was infantry. He and Marti’s husband, Joshua—she’s my best friend—shipped out together, died together, and came home together.” She paused for a moment, gazing off—remembering, Avi was sure—then took a deep breath. “How many times were you over there?”

  “Five. Two years in Iraq, three in Afghanistan.”

  “You’re a braver woman than me. I never could have joined the Army…but I was a damn good Army wife. My only regret is that I didn’t get pregnant when I had a chance.”

  “That would make it a little easier, wouldn’t it,” Avi said. To have some small piece of her husband, to see him in his child’s eyes or smile.

  “A few of the margarita girls have kids. Therese has three stepkids, and Ilena found out she was pregnant not long after Juan deployed. But most of us had waited, thinking we had plenty of time. And here we are.”

  Avi didn’t want to find herself thinking And here I am if she got out of the Army and didn’t have kids. She loved her job and was dedicated to it, but she wanted babies to love and dote on. She wanted grandbabies when she was old and gray to spoil rotten. If she didn’t find the right man to do it the old-fashioned way—courting, marriage, then pregnancy—she would look at alternative methods, because she didn’t intend to look back with regret.

  “You’re still young,” she said. I’m still young. “There’s time.”

  “Time’s not the problem now,” Lucy said ruefully. “It’s finding a man and falling in love and him falling in love with me. It was so easy with Mike. We dated all through high school. Being with him was as natural as breathing. But I was younger and more carefree and much skinnier back then. Not a lot of guys see happily-ever-after when they look at fat chicks.”

  “Lucy, you’re beautiful,” Avi admonished. “And lots of guys like curves.”

  “Well, if you come across any around here, send them my way, will you?”

  “I will.”

  Avi sipped her tea, brewed strong the way she liked it, then wiped the condensation on her shorts. “Do you work?”

  “I’m secretary to the commanding officer of the post hospital. He’s a great guy to work for, but when I started, it was supposed to be a short-term thing. It’s not exactly what I wanted to do with my life.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Lucy laughed. “Here I am complaining about my weight, and what I’d really like to do is something that involves food. I’m a good cook if I say so myself, and I really love it. I thought about a bakery, but CaraCakes is so good. I considered a restaurant, too, but that’s a big gamble, and I’d have to go in debt forever or find investors. Maybe catering…”

  Avi was lucky that she’d always known what she wanted to do. After the Army, it wasn’t the job that would be important, but what she would do outside of work with family and friends. “You need to explore the possibilities. When I come back here after I retire, I want to hear everyone raving about Lucy Hart’s fabulous bakery/restaurant/catering business so I can say ‘I told her to go for it.’”

  “Don’t set your expectations too high.” Lucy refilled her glass, then a teasing smile flitted across her face. “Tell me about you and Ben.”

  As a delaying tactic, Avi scooted her chair to the right to take advantage of the shade there. She topped off her own iced tea, c
rossed her legs, and settled more comfortably. “Ben and I are friends.”

  The snort from Lucy was earthy and filled with disbelief. “Okay, Ben was the first guy I went out with after Mike’s death—the only guy. One thing I know about him is how he looks at a woman he’s just friends with, which is the way he looked at me before we dated, while we dated, and after we broke it off. Honey, that is not the way he looks at you. So spill, or I’ll have to nag him for details. Which might be fun, because he’ll get all flushed and flustered.”

  Avi couldn’t imagine that. It might be worth staying quiet so she could watch. But the girl inside her had been wanting to talk to a girlfriend since she’d driven out of downtown Tulsa last night, wanted to giggle and gossip and be starry-eyed for a bit. First, she cautiously asked, “Did you break his heart?”

  “No, and he didn’t break mine, either. I adored him—still do—but we’re so much better as friends. There just wasn’t any sizzle between us, you know? And life’s too short to settle for no sizzle.” Then Lucy grinned. “I bet you two have so much sizzle, fire alarms ring.”

  In response, Avi sprawled back in her chair and fanned herself with one hand before laughing.

  “That’s cool. You’ll be good for him.”

  The levity slipped away, and Avi bit her lower lip. “Only for a while,” she murmured. “I’m heading to Georgia at the end of my leave, so we both know it’s a fling.”

  “Why?”

  Lucy looked as if she seriously meant the question, which surprised Avi. Lucy was an Army wife; she knew about training and deployments and forced separations. She’d made a lot of sacrifices for her husband’s career: job security, frequent moves, long hours, low pay, distance from her family and home. She’d done it because she loved him, because she’d been young, because she was a good Army wife. But Ben…