The Nearness of You

by Dorothy Garlock

  “What about you?” she asked.

  Boone’s eyes narrowed. “What about me?”

  “Aren’t you ever uncomfortable when someone praises you?”

  “Heck no!” he declared, though she suspected he was teasing, if only a bit. “If there was a line of young ladies a city block long who wanted to tell me I was good looking, I’d stand there and listen to every last one of them.”

  “They’d be right,” she said. “You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever met.”

  Surprisingly, Boone looked away.

  “I thought you said you could take a compliment?” she asked.

  “I can,” he said, “except when it comes from you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the only woman whose opinion matters,” Boone told her, taking the picture from her hand and placing it back on the table. “When you’re the one doing the complimenting,” he continued as he slid his arms around her, pulling her close, “then it must be true.”

  Their first kiss was tender and soft but soon escalated into something more. Lily’s lips parted, allowing their tongues to touch, which sent a shiver of excitement barreling down her spine and across her skin. Whatever reservations she might have felt about being here with him, about what could soon happen, evaporated like a puddle of water on a hot summer afternoon. She pressed her body into his, wanting to be closer, then closer still. His hand slid up her arm, across her shoulder to the skin at her collarbone, and then began to push the fabric of her dress to the side, as if he meant to begin removing it, which made Lily hold her breath.

  But then he abruptly stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, searching his eyes for the answer.

  “I want you to be sure about this,” Boone told her. “Completely sure. I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you aren’t ready for. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

  A smile slowly spread across Lily’s face. “I know what I’m doing,” she said, trying to reassure him. “There’s nowhere else I want to be than right here, right now, with you. I know what comes next. My eyes are wide open.” Staring up at him, the soft light from the lone lamp bulb throwing their shadows across the room, more words burst out of her, ones she’d always wanted to say but had never expected would be directed at a photographer from New York City. “I love you,” she told him, her admission filling her with joy.

  She hadn’t given much thought to what Boone’s reaction might be, how he might respond, but what she got was perfect. “I’ve never heard those words before,” he told her. “I’ve never had the urge to say them, either. But you, Lily Denton, you make me want to shout them from the top of the Empire State Building.” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, brushed it against her lips, and then slid it down to her chin. “I love you,” he said. “I love you with all I am and have.”

  Lily let the silence that followed linger for a moment, basking in its glow, then told him, “Shut off the light and hurry back.”

  Boone did as he was told, plunging the room into darkness. For Lily, the next few minutes were a blur of kisses and discarded clothing. When it was over, her dress and undergarments lay in a heap, mingled with the fancy outfit Boone had just bought. They stood before each other, naked. In the faint light, now that her eyes had had time to adjust, Lily drank him in, the muscles of his shoulders, chest, and stomach, as well as much, much more.

  Once they were on the bed, lying side by side, they resumed kissing, but now it was different, hungrier, more insistent. Their hands roamed across each other’s bodies, lingering briefly at one spot before moving on. Nowhere was off-limits. Lily gasped when Boone’s fingers danced across her ribs and found her breast, his thumb tracing a circle around her nipple that made her skin rise in gooseflesh. She moaned into his open mouth when that same hand slid down her spine, then arced across the curve of her backside. After that, it moved between her legs, touching her in a way that no other man had, slippery in her wetness, a clear sign of how much she yearned for him. She moved her knees apart, wanting more.

  “Oh, Boone…” she said, then bit her lower lip to keep from crying out.

  Wanting him to feel every ounce of pleasure she did, Lily explored Boone’s body. She squeezed the thick muscles of his arms. She ran her hand through his hair, her fingernails grazing his scalp. She was so intent on touching him everywhere that she eventually moved between his legs. The hardness of him surprised her, but when Lily grabbed hold and squeezed, he reacted so unexpectedly that she half expected him to leap out of the bed.

  “Careful,” he told her.

  Covering her hand with his own, Boone guided her along the length of him, up and down, over and over, a slow rhythm that grew steadily faster. Eventually, he let go, leaving Lily in charge. She was amazed at how much pleasure she could give him. But when she picked up the pace, going faster than ever before, he abruptly stopped her midstroke.

  “Not…not just yet…” Boone breathlessly told her.

  He rose up, positioning himself above her, supporting his weight on his powerful arms. Lily spread her legs to allow him entry, her hands on his waist.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Lily nodded. She was ready to become a woman.

  Boone lowered himself and slowly slid inside her. At first, Lily felt an intense pain but she bore it, refusing to show discomfort or ask him to stop; she knew enough to understand this was to be expected. Inch by inch, he continued forward until they were completely joined. For a while he stayed still, allowing her time to adjust, kissing her tenderly. When he felt like she was ready, Boone began to move. There was still a bit of pain but it didn’t take her long to discover the joy of lovemaking. As he slid in and out of her body, Lily felt as if she was being hauled up a mountain, higher and higher still, the air growing thinner, making her light-headed. She worked to match her movements to his, both of them headed to the same destination.

  “I love you…” he gasped into her ear.

  Lily wanted to reply, to tell him that she loved him in return, but when she opened her mouth no sound came out. Unexpectedly struck mute, she tried to show him how she felt through her actions, squeezing his arm as droplets of his sweat rained from his body to mix with her own. Boone moved faster and faster and the next thing Lily knew she had reached the top of the mountain; she sailed over the summit and it was like she was flying through the air, buffeted by one blast of pleasure after another, a fall leaf fluttering this way and then that on its way to the ground.

  “Lily…I…I can’t last any…” was all Boone managed before his body shuddered and he spilled an intense warmth inside her.

  He hung above her, his arms trembling, then carefully lowered himself until he was fully on top of her. She put her arms around him and held tight.

  Lying there with Boone, Lily found herself wanting the night to go on forever. The dance, their laughter, the kisses, making love to him: it was all straight out of a fairy tale. She was like Cinderella, Snow White, and Rapunzel. She’d found her handsome prince and now she wanted what all the other princesses got.

  To live happily ever after.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  GO GET IT, girl! Fetch the ball!”

  Boone smiled as Lily tossed Daisy’s ball into the yard, the retriever getting her morning exercise. Halloween had dawned brilliant and bright, though the weatherman on the radio had said that clouds and a light rain would roll in sometime that afternoon. But Boone didn’t mind. Not at all.

  Nothing was going to ruin his good mood.

  Making love to Lily had been better than a dream come true. While Boone had been disappointed that she’d needed to leave—he would have preferred she spend the night with him in his bed—he understood that she hadn’t wanted to upset her father. Besides, on the walk back from Lily’s home, he had found Clive shivering on the sidewalk; the poor guy would’ve rather caught pneumonia than interrupt them again. Amazingly, before Boone had drunk the morning’s first cup of c
offee, Lily was there at the door, a bag of doughnuts in hand, ready to start another day together.

  “Give me that disgusting thing,” Lily said with a laugh, picking up Daisy’s soggy ball and throwing it away.

  The dog barked once, then was off, living up to her breed’s name.

  With all that had happened the last couple of days, Boone was surprised to realize that this was the first time Lily and Daisy had met. But the two had quickly made up for lost time. The dog had taken an instant liking to Lily, running to her, barking playfully, then rolling over onto her back for a belly rub. Lily returned the retriever’s affection, doing lots of petting and tirelessly tossing the ball.

  As if Boone needed another sign that she was special.

  The dog loves her just as much as I do.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the phone in his room ringing. At first, Boone didn’t move, assuming that Clive would get it, but the noise persisted. Thinking that the writer must be in the shower, he excused himself and went inside to answer it. “Hello,” he said into the receiver.

  “I gotta admit, I figured you’d be long gone from there by now.” Boone immediately recognized the voice on the other end of the line: it was Walter Bing, his editor back at Life magazine. From the sounds in the background, shouting voices and typewriters, he was calling from his office.

  “This place is more interesting than I expected,” he replied.

  “I don’t know how that’s possible, but I suppose I should be glad. Did you get me some good shots?”

  “Rolls of ’em. One in particular might be good enough for the cover.”

  Walter chuckled. “Figures that I send you to the middle of nowhere and you still manage to snap something great,” the editor said.

  “And I didn’t even get arrested to take it.”

  “You ain’t outta there yet,” the magazine man kiddingly cautioned. “Anything else happen worth mentioning?”

  Boone considered telling him about the robbery but decided against it. In the end, they hadn’t lost anything of consequence, and besides, the new pictures he and Lily had taken might even be better than the originals. If needed, he could always tell Walter later. “Not really,” he answered.

  “How’s Clive working out?”

  “He’s good. A hell of a lot better than I expected,” Boone admitted truthfully. “He still asks too many questions, but his writing looks sharp.” A memory from the previous day came to mind, something that Clive had told him. “He said that you’d warned him about me. That I could be a conceited horse’s ass.”

  Walter paused, but only briefly. “He did, huh?”

  Boone found the editor’s response slick, neither an admittance nor a denial. Like the robbery, he decided it wasn’t worth talking about.

  “Look, today’s Halloween so I’m gonna expect the two of you to be back here by the day after tomorrow at the latest,” Walter continued, barely skipping a beat. “We’ll take a look at your shots, Clive can put the finishing touches on his article, and that’ll be that. I’ve already got both of your next assignments lined up.”

  “Havana?” Boone asked, remembering how badly he’d wanted to go only a week earlier, how it was the only thing that had mattered to him.

  “You’ve earned it, kid,” Walter told him. “I gotta admit, I had my doubts. I figured you’d crack and give the higher-ups a reason to send you packing, but you’ve really come through. And what a reward! Just think about all those sandy beaches, those drinks with the little umbrellas in ’em, and all the girls! Heck, maybe I oughta be the one goin’ instead,” he added with a hearty laugh. “We can iron out all the details when you’re back. Day after tomorrow, got it?”

  “Sure,” Boone managed before Walter hung up.

  He stood there for a long time, the receiver buzzing in his hand, thinking about how much his life had changed in such a short time, how coming to Hooper’s Crossing had been like a fork in the road, forever altering his life’s trajectory. Boone no longer cared about the Caribbean sand or other women.

  And it was all because of Lily.

  In a matter of days, Boone would return to the city. He’d fill the Chrysler’s trunk with their belongings and put Daisy in the backseat while Clive rolled down his window, probably stifling a sneeze. But Boone hoped that there would be another passenger joining them, someone he couldn’t bear to be without.

  He wanted Lily to come with them.

  Halloween had always been Lily’s favorite time of year. It wasn’t just because of all the fun she’d had as a kid trick-or-treating with Jane and Garrett, running down the sidewalks, dragging a wagon to haul their candy. And it also wasn’t on account of the decorations that hung in store windows and on porches, paper ghosts, pumpkins, and ugly witches. It wasn’t even because of the scary films she used to watch at the movie theater, nervously peeking through her fingers at Dracula, the Wolf Man, and other cinematic terrors.

  To Lily, the best thing about Halloween had always been the festival parade.

  She and Boone were part of a huge crowd massed along Main Street. It felt like all of Hooper’s Crossing was there, as well as plenty of out-of-towners. Much of the parade was the expected fare: veterans who’d served during the Second World War and in Korea wore their uniforms as they marched in formation; a band played, the autumn sun shining on trumpets, tubas, and trombones; town dignitaries rode in the back of convertibles, Lily’s father in one of the first cars, waving wildly to their constituents and the outsiders who brought plenty of money to town.

  But what set this parade apart, what made it unexpected, were the touches that reflected the day’s holiday: a “headless” horseman galloped up and down the street, far from Sleepy Hollow but still plenty scary; one float depicted a graveyard, with tombstones blanketed in a creepy fog created by buckets of dry ice; Vince Rollins, the local postmaster, did his best Victor Frankenstein on another float, shouting “It’s alive!” as Cliff Turner, the town’s butcher, rose from a table and stumbled around, the mad scientist’s creation come to life.

  “This is amazing!” Boone said as he looked through the camera’s viewfinder, snapping pictures.

  And he was right. It was amazing.

  But try as she might, Lily was having a hard time concentrating on the parade. Her mind raced, her thoughts returning again and again to her time in Boone’s bed, the warmth of his body against hers, the passion of their lovemaking. When added to all of the emotions he inspired in her, the laughter they’d shared, Lily realized that Boone had become a treasured part of her life. She was determined to keep it from ending.

  So how did they stay together?

  The answer to that question was amazingly simple. It just required a difficult decision.

  Lily leaned toward Boone, the noise from the parade echoing between the buildings and making it hard to hear. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” he answered, still taking pictures.

  She paused. “It’s important.”

  Boone lowered his camera and looked at her, giving Lily his undivided attention. “What is it?”

  Before she could answer, the band began to play another song. Knowing that she’d never be heard over the din, Lily took Boone’s hand and the two of them made their way through the crowd. Incredibly, they found themselves back in front of the bakery; Sally Lange leaned against her doorway, enjoying the parade. It was still loud, but it would have to do.

  “Do…do you remember when I suggested that I might want to go with you to New York City?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. How could I possibly forget?”

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” Lily began, worried about how he might react, knowing full well what she was asking of him, “and I want to do it.”

  She braced herself, fearful of rejection.

  “Yes!” he emphatically shouted, smashing her doubts to pieces.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, still not completely convinced. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”<
br />
  Boone shook his head. “You wouldn’t be, not in a million years,” he told her. “I was thinking about it ever since you first mentioned it. I want you to come with me. I want to show you the city. Central Park. This dress shop I took pictures of on the Upper East Side. There’s this Italian place on Mulberry Street that has the best spaghetti sauce I’ve ever had, even in Rome. I want to show you all of it.”

  Even as a smile began to spread across her face, Lily tried to hold it back, worried that this was all too good to be true. “I’m serious.”

  “I am, too,” he insisted. “I told you before that I’d never lead you on and I meant it. I don’t want this to end. Come with me. Let’s take a…a leap of faith…and start a life together.” He paused. “I love you, Lily.”

  Relief flooded her heart. She was about to accept when Boone’s smile unexpectedly began to fade. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I just remembered something.”

  “What?” Lily pressed.

  Boone ran a hand through his hair and asked, “The last time you wanted to leave town, you got cold feet, right?”

  Whenever Lily thought about the night she’d planned to go with Jane to the city, she was filled with shame. Even though staying in Hooper’s Crossing had resulted in her meeting Boone, changing her life forever, she still felt like a coward, a terrible friend for abandoning Jane. But this wasn’t like before. Far from it. Lily had found new strength and conviction. She wasn’t the same person.

  “I don’t want to end up disappointed,” Boone continued. “I’d rather you back out now than get my hopes up.”

  “This is what I want,” Lily told him, taking his hand and squeezing it, trying to prove her sincerity. “I’ve never wanted something more.”