Not that her relationship with Brent was based solely on lust. Was it? No, of course it wasn’t, she assured herself.
So why did Greg’s words make her feel all queasy inside?
Because, she realized as she drove, if Brent felt something more for her than physical desire and friendship, he’d want to marry her—no matter how much the idea of commitment frightened him.
But what if he didn’t love her?
The question echoed in her mind as she pulled into his driveway. She could see him through the kitchen window, and for a moment she sat simply watching him. How much was she willing to sacrifice in order to be with this man? How long could she go on seeing him without saying the words “I love you” and hearing them in return?
She waited for some answer to come, some magical solution that would show her the way to win his heart. If only she could walk through that door, put her arms around his waist, and tell him everything she felt, everything he meant to her.
Only she’d lose him if she did, because he wasn’t ready.
So for tonight, as with all the other nights they’d shared, she’d be there with him and for him as his lover and his friend. If her patience strained, she’d deal with it as she’d been dealing with it, by biding her time—for however long it took.
Chapter 23
Brent heard a car in the drive and peeked out the kitchen window. “Look, Hal,” he said into the phone, “I need to go. Laura’s back.”
“Oh, sure,” his agent replied, wrapping up a long-winded monologue. The two had spoken more in the last twenty-four hours than they had in the last two years. But then, they hadn’t had anything to discuss until yesterday afternoon. “I’ll call you Monday,” Hal said, “the minute I have the contract in hand.”
“Just do me a favor,” Brent said. “Keep it discreet until everything is signed.”
There was a heartbeat of silence. “You’re not having second thoughts about this, are you?” The agent’s tone rang with alarm.
“No, of course not.” Brent turned away from the window. “Are you kidding? This is the deal of a lifetime. I’d just rather the station hear it directly from me than through the rumor mill. I owe them that.”
“Just be sure you don’t wait too long,” Hal said. “And Brent—congratulations. You’ve worked hard for this one.”
“Thanks.” Hanging up the phone, Brent stared blindly into space. The people at the station weren’t the only ones he needed to tell about the deal he’d been offered. He hadn’t said a word to Laura. He’d meant to last night, but his excitement over the biggest job offer of his life had spilled into passion, and they’d spent half the night making love. Then this morning there’d been the party to prepare for.
Sooner or later, though, he had to tell her and deal with her response, good or bad. If only he could know if she’d greet the news with a burst of joy and an agreement to move halfway across the country or a cool “congratulations” and “good luck with your life.”
The back door opened, jarring him back to his senses. He grabbed a cutting board and knife in an effort to look busy. “Did you find some bowls?” he asked over his shoulder. Seeing her hands full, he dropped the knife. “Here, let me help you with that.”
“Sorry I took so long.” She brushed her hair off her forehead as he took one armload. “I got hung up over at Melody’s.”
“No problem.” He leaned down to give her a quick kiss started to pull away, then changed his mind and went back for another. The instant punch of desire stole the breath from his lungs, as it always did. She rose up to meet him, to twine her arm about his neck and hold on as he devoured her sweet, giving mouth. He’d never be able to give this up. He’d wither and die without Laura in his life.
But what if she forced him to choose between her and his career? Could he give up everything he’d worked for to stay with her? He’d seen other anchors do it: pass up a chance for advancement in order to stay in the town where their spouses worked and their children went to school.
But he and Laura weren’t married. The only thing that held them together was friendship, respect, and this flare of passion that ignited every time they touched. Would it be enough? It had to be, because he couldn’t imagine letting her go. His mouth slanted over hers as he deepened the kiss, needing to taste all of her.
She moaned when he finally lifted his head. “Mmm.” Her eyes fluttered open. “If I’d known that was waiting for me, I’d have hurried a bit more.”
“Well, I was planning to rip your clothes off and have my way with you before the guests arrived, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”
“We could always make them wait out on the front porch,” she teased.
“Don’t tempt me.” Laughing, he stepped back to a safer distance and prayed his body would cool before the guests arrived. “Did you find some decent salsa?” he asked, taking the bowls to the counter.
“Knowing how picky you are, I bought three kinds.” She set the grocery bag beside the bowls and proceeded to pull out one jar at a time. “Wimpy. Gourmet. And hot-enough-to-burn-the-roof-off-your-mouth. Which do you want to sample first?”
“Give me the hot stuff.” He wiggled his brows.
“All right, tough guy. Just remember, you asked for it.” Opening a bag of tortilla chips, she dipped one in the jar and brought a bite of salsa to his mouth with one hand held below to catch any drips.
“Not bad,” he said, and then the afterburn kicked in. “Hhaa! Hhaa! Get me a beer.” Breathing fire, he headed for the ice chest and twisted the cap off a cold lager from a local microbrewery.
“What? Too hot?”
“No, it’s good.” He took another pull off the beer. “Just be sure you keep that stuff away from Connie. It’ll kill a Yankee like her.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Connie’s pretty tough.”
Yeah, he thought, Connie was a tough old bird on the outside—and pure marshmallow underneath. He was going to miss her and all the others. He’d formed more friendships at this station than anywhere else he’d worked, mostly due to Laura and her easy way of socializing.
“So what can I do to help?” Laura asked, surveying the chaos of the kitchen.
He took in all the work still to be done. What had ever possessed him to invite the entire station over? “Call everyone and tell them not to come?” he suggested hopefully.
“Brent.” She looked at him in exasperation. “We’re not going to go through this again, are we?”
Apparently his expression conveyed the state of his nerves, for she walked forward and framed his face with her hands.
“Listen to me very carefully,” she said. “Everything does not have to be perfect. Even if the food stinks, which it won’t, and the house is a wreck, which it isn’t, people will have a good time because they aren’t coming merely to eat and drink. They’re coming because they enjoy your company. People like you, Brent. They admire you and respect you. That’s not going to change if you play the wrong music or serve the wrong beer. So take a deep breath and relax.”
“I have a better idea,” he said as he wrapped one arm about the small of her back. “Take your panties off.”
“What?” she stared at him as if he’d spoken Greek.
“I can’t think about how nervous I am if you’re in the same room without any panties on under your shorts.”
“Brent.” She laughed, ruining the effect of her scandalized expression. “I will not take off my underwear.”
“Come on, Laura.” Setting his beer on the chopping block, he kissed her neck just beneath the ear, right in the spot that always made her quiver. “Be wild. Be daring. Give me your panties.”
“No,” she laughed as he walked her backward, kissing her neck as they went. “I … can’t.” Her head tipped sideways, giving him free access to her neck. He drew her earlobe into his mouth and nibbled it with his teeth. “Really,” she said in a breathy voice. “I’d be too embarrassed.”
“Come on,” he coaxed as he p
ulled her shirt free of her shorts and slipped his hands inside to caress her warm, bare skin. “It’ll be fun.”
“Brent, stop,” she laughed in false protest and wiggled against him, thrilling his body with the feel of her soft curves against his hard planes. He moved his mouth to her lips and covered them in a greedy kiss. She opened her lips eagerly, accepting and returning every sweep of his tongue. His nimble hands unfastened her shorts.
When her shorts fell to the floor, his fingertips caressed her skin along the edge of her panties, then slipped between her thighs to find the fabric wet. He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes as he stroked her through the thin silk. “God, I want you.”
Her eyes turned heavy and dilated. “We don’t have time.”
He glanced at the clock. “We’ve got five minutes, at least. Plenty of time.”
She hesitated for a heartbeat, then attacked the buttons of her blouse. “Be fast.”
He sucked in a breath as the blouse opened to reveal her lacy white underwear. The demi cups of her bra barely covered the rose-colored nipples he knew waited beneath. With one hand still between her thighs, he dipped his head to kiss the swell of her breast just above the lace. “You drive me wild, you know that, don’t you?”
She moaned deep in her throat as she leaned back against the counter and widened her stance. He stroked her until neither of them could stand the torture a moment longer, then he peeled the lace and silk panties down her long legs.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed as he lifted her to sit on the edge of the counter. She wrapped her legs about his hips and reached for the button on his slacks. “I want you inside me,” she told him in a husky voice. “Hurry, Brent. Please hurry.”
Together they fumbled with the fastenings of his slacks. The moment he sprang free, he thrust deep into her welcoming heat. Her head fell back as she gasped in pleasure. With her half-reclining on the countertop, her blouse gaping, he ran his hands over the curve of her hips and the dip of her waist as he moved inside her. He lowered the cups of her bra to suckle her breasts until the nipples rose to hard peaks in his mouth.
No matter how many times their bodies joined, he never got enough of her. He could go on touching her forever and knew he’d sooner die than stop.
Her legs tightened about his hips, begging him to move harder, faster. He trailed a hand down her stomach and found her sensitive bud with his thumb. She arched against him as her climax rocked through her. He followed a beat behind, pouring himself into her—all of his emotions and the things he couldn’t say rushing out of him and into her in that moment of perfect pleasure.
Spent, he slumped forward and gathered her into his arms. They remained entwined, their breathing heavy, as he cradled her to his heart. Then slowly, he straightened to stand between her legs. She blushed a bit as he tugged the lacy bra back into place. “Was that fast enough for you?” he asked, teasing her.
“Yes,” she answered, smiling.
Tenderly, he smoothed her hair back into place and felt a calmness settle over him. She’d brought that into his life, a sense of stability to balance the turmoil. He couldn’t imagine her not being there for him. Losing her simply was not possible.
He cupped her cheek, telling her with his eyes how much she meant to him. The fear of sharing his news had vanished during their lovemaking, slipping back into the darkness where it belonged. “Laura,” he began, “there’s something I need tell you.”
“Yes?” Her eyes searched his. Any barriers that remained between them crumbled in that instant as he looked in her eyes and saw her heart. She loved him. Why, he couldn’t begin to fathom, but she loved him with a completeness that both lifted him up and laid him low.
He took a deep breath, ready to tell her about the job offer. “Laura, I—”
The doorbell rang. They both jumped as the bubble surrounding them burst—and they realized they were half-naked, disheveled, and about to be descended upon by an entire TV station.
“Ohmygod!” Laura gasped as she scrambled off the counter.
“It’s okay. Don’t panic.” Brent tucked in his shirt and fastened his trousers.
“Maybe you should answer the door and stall them,” she suggested as she reached for her panties and shorts on the floor.
He snatched up the panties first. “No way, those are mine.”
“Brent!” She grabbed for them, but he thrust them into his pants pocket.
“You can have them back—later.” She started to protest, but he handed her her shorts. “Better hurry.”
Muttering to herself, Laura grabbed the shorts while Brent went to the sink to wash his hands. In spite of her indignation, another part of her mind soared with everything that had just happened. Had Brent been about to say what she thought? The way he’d looked into her eyes, she’d seen what she had longed to see for so long. He loved her. Really, truly loved her. More than that, he’d seemed ready to say it. If the doorbell hadn’t rung, would she finally have heard the three most precious words known in any language? She held the possibility close to her heart as she righted her clothes and smoothed her hair.
Once they were presentable, they answered the door to find Keshia and Franklin. Laura’s euphoric smile shifted to one of welcome. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said with genuine enthusiasm. They’d become casual friends over the summer, seeing each other at the station’s after-hours get-togethers.
“What a great house,” Keshia exclaimed, taking in the foyer.
“No kidding,” Franklin added. “From the way you described it, Brent, I expected a construction site with torn-up floors and half-painted walls.”
“Well, it does still need some finishing touches,” Brent insisted.
“Never mind him.” Laura laughed. “Come on in, and we’ll show you around.”
After a tour of the downstairs, Laura and Keshia headed for the kitchen to chop onions and grate cheese for the fajitas.
“There they go,” Franklin chuckled. “Off to talk about us behind our backs.”
“Oh, hush.” Keshia waved a hand at him. “You two go do something manly, like start the grill.”
The minute the kitchen door closed, Keshia turned to Laura. “So?” she asked, her face alive with intrigue. “Is Brent going to make any big announcements tonight?”
Laura blinked, completely confused.
“Oh, I know,” Keshia said, moving toward the cutting board on the island. “I’m not supposed to talk about it ‘to anyone,’ right? But I’d hardly call you anyone. I mean, he’s bound to have told you, even if he is being tight-lipped with everyone else.”
The ground shifted under Laura’s feet. Keshia had said the word announcement. As far as Laura knew, there were three basic announcements people made during their lifetimes: birth, death, and marriage. Was that what Brent had been about to say before the doorbell rang? Not merely “Laura, I love you,” but also “Will you marry me?”
“H-how—” She swallowed hard. “How did you know?”
Keshia shrugged as she selected an onion and tossed it into the air like a tennis ball. “I caught him talking on the phone yesterday when he thought no one was around.”
Laura’s mind raced as she grated the cheese. Who could Brent have been talking to that would tip off Keshia? A jeweler, perhaps? Was Brent planning on the whole traditional proposal scene, complete with a diamond engagement ring?
“Hey, Laura?” Franklin poked his head through the door. “I think we’re ready for the meat out here.”
“Oh. Sure.” In a daze she moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic container.
Franklin lifted the lid and gave her a strange look. “Not that I don’t love leftover lasagna, but I thought we were having fajitas tonight.”
Laura laughed as she saw what she’d handed him. “Oh, sorry.” Shaking her head, she exchanged the lasagna for the marinated meat that would be grilled, cut into strips, and served wrapped in flour tortillas. With the meat balanced on the ice chest of cold drink
s, Franklin headed back to the patio. The doorbell rang, and Keshia called out that she’d get it.
Laura found herself alone in the kitchen. Beyond the door, she could hear a crowd of guests arriving. Brent called out from the patio, telling everyone to come join him. He sounded confident and jovial, the perfect host.
She closed her eyes to savor the moment, every sound, every scent, every tingle that danced along her skin. The dream she’d almost accepted as beyond her reach was about to come true. She and Brent would marry, have a family, grow old and gray in each other’s arms.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur. She laughed and visited with all the friends she’d made from the station. But nothing really touched her—not the music or the festive mood. She felt as if she floated above the picture-perfect scene.
Landscape lights lent a fairy-tale quality to the brightly blooming flower beds. The montage of people who made up the KSET staff laughed and mingled as they devoured the Tex-Mex feast. Brent moved among them looking self-assured, as if he’d hosted a thousand parties. She watched as he accepted the congratulations over his special report with grace and humor.
From across the yard, his gaze connected with hers. I love you, Brent Michael Zartlich, she told him with her eyes. With all my heart. As if hearing the words, his face softened, and she felt his answer as if he’d spoken aloud. She gathered the feeling close and held it long after they each turned away to see to their guests.
Not until midnight did the last of the guests finally leave. Laura went with Brent to the front door as he bade them good-bye. Calling a final “thank you for coming and drive safe,” he closed the door. Silence filled the house. Leaning against the door, he stared at her as a huge grin spread across his features. “Thank God,” he said. “I thought they’d never leave.”
Drive Me Wild Page 24