Forever Mine, Valentine

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Forever Mine, Valentine Page 14

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  “So much for that,” Spence said in an undertone to Jill. “By the time we get these folks back to civilization, they’ll sooner boil me in oil than support my cause.”

  “We shouldn’t have let them come on this hike,” Jill murmured, glancing nervously at the disgruntled faces around them.

  “There you go again. We couldn’t have stopped them. They’re all adults and perfectly capable of making decisions. The trouble is, I know what decision they’ll make when they get back from this fiasco.”

  “I feel responsible,” Jill said. “I suggested the bus tour in the first place.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.” He took her hand. “It was a good idea. I’m the one who said let’s chance the older buses, and we had to do something fast.”

  “That’s true. Wait until you read Tippy’s latest memo. We must have left before it arrived.”

  “Do I want to hear this?”

  “Probably not, but you’ll see it eventually. She’s projecting a ten-percent rent reduction if all her new programs go as expected.”

  “She’s crazy. She’ll never be able to do that and impress her corporation with added revenue at the same time. We can fight that piece of propaganda.”

  “Of course we can.” Jill was glad to see his renewed determination.

  From behind them someone stumbled over a rock in the twilight and muttered a curse.

  Spence cringed. “Maybe we can fight it,” he muttered. “And then again, maybe the golden age of the Remembrance Mall is over.”

  11

  THE STRANDED TENANTS cheered up considerably after a newer, sturdier bus rescued them from Garden of the Gods Park and delivered them, at Spence’s request, to a steak-and-ale restaurant for dinner.

  “That was one expensive evening,” Jill commented to Spence once they were back at the store.

  “I didn’t know what else to do.” Spence sprawled on the bed and Jill sat in the easy chair in Charlie’s old sleeping quarters. “I got those people out there and put them in a bad mood. The hell of it is, I’m back to square one with them. I don’t have any more signatures on the petition than I had before the bus broke down.” He sounded so discouraged that she didn’t have the heart to offer some sunny contradiction or blithe reassurance.

  “I’m sorry, Spence.” She reached over and rubbed his ankle, the only part of him she could reach from where she sat. “We’ll work on it.”

  “And that wonderful memo from Tippy the Lip. She probably found out about the bus trip and timed the memo to offset our advantage.”

  “We couldn’t have done anything to keep her from finding out about the trip. But I can’t imagine very many tenants will believe that ten-percent garbage.”

  “It confuses the issue, though, just when we need a united front.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “Damn.”

  “It’s been a long day, Spence. I don’t think we should try to solve anything tonight.”

  “But we have so little time. Anderson’s could sign any day, and—”

  “Let it go, Spence,” she urged gently. “You need to put it aside, let your subconscious work.”

  He clenched and unclenched his fist. “You’re right, but this is damn frustrating.”

  “I know,” she said again, hoping to soothe him.

  “I just—” He stopped and studied her for a long moment. “You’re right,” he murmured, levering himself from the bed. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be back shortly. I think Horace must be about done closing out the register.”

  Jill watched him leave and wondered if perhaps she was more disappointed than he that the bus tour had ended, at least for half the tenants, in a stalemate. She wouldn’t feel very good if she had to abandon him the following week with no solution in sight. Somehow she’d imagined that, with her ideas and Spence’s determination, they couldn’t fail.

  As she waited for his return, she lost track of the exact time, but she gauged that at least ten minutes had passed and he still wasn’t back. Balancing the cash must have taken longer than usual; all he needed was a discrepancy with the receipts to finish off his day, she thought. At last she heard his footsteps.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked when he walked in.

  “Everything’s fine. Horace has left.” He came toward her with a paper bag in one hand.

  When he took a familiar box out of the paper bag she chuckled softly. “Bedroom supplies for later?”

  “Supplies for now,” he said, his tone husky.

  “Here?”

  “Yes.”

  “But…”

  His dark gaze bored into hers. “We could wait until we’re home, is what you want to say. But I don’t feel like waiting, like being calm and civilized tonight.” His tone deepened. “I need you now. Not later. Right now.”

  Her gaze locked with his as she rose silently from the chair, and he guided her backward until they toppled together onto the mattress. The springs squeaked under their weight as he plunged his tongue into her mouth and wrenched her blouse from her waistband.

  Not bothering with the buttons, he pushed his hand beneath the material and behind her back to unsnap her bra. Excitement surged through her at his abandon, and the urgency of his kiss.

  She started on the buttons of his shirt, but he pushed her hand down to the fastening of his jeans. She worked it loose and drew down the zipper. He was warm and full beneath it, already straining through the cotton of his briefs. She shoved the jeans and briefs over his hips and set him free.

  With a muffled groan he withdrew his hand from her breast and fumbled with her jeans. He gave himself just enough access for what he wanted, and then his fingers moved swiftly, testing her readiness. “I needed you to be like this, all wet and wanting me,” he said in a rasping voice.

  He tore open the package he’d brought to bed with him, and with trembling fingers, she helped him put the condom on. She found the thought of making love here, in the center of this big, empty mall, incredibly erotic. Since the first night he’d pleasured her so thoroughly on this bed, she’d fantasized this scene. But without his boldness, she would never have dared make it a reality.

  The old bed squeaked again as he drove into her, but she knew the shelves of boxes surrounding them would muffle the sound. Soon she no longer noticed the squeaks. The roaring in her ears, the pounding in her temples and the exquisite tension between her thighs drowned out everything else.

  He kissed her, hard, as she began to reach a climax, and she dug her fingernails into his back. She hoped he was with her, for this was supposed to be for him, but she couldn’t differentiate his shudders from her own. At last he lifted his mouth from hers, leaving her limp and panting.

  “Did you?” she gasped.

  “You bet,” he said hoarsely, breathing like a marathon runner after a race. “And now…there’s something else.” He paused and took gulps of air. “The last time I said this, I didn’t require a response. Now I do.”

  She guessed what was coming.

  “I love you,” he said, gazing down at her. “And I need to know how you feel about me.”

  She thought about what to say and wondered what sort of commitment he’d expect if she told him the truth.

  “I feel love from you,” he said when she didn’t answer, “and heaven knows, when we’re like this, I can’t question your response to me, but I want to hear the words. Can you give me that?”

  “I—I don’t think it would be wise.”

  “Are you going to deny that you love me?”

  “Spence, please, don’t push for some declaration that would only make us both more miserable.”

  “Speak for yourself. Have I made you miserable, telling you how I feel about you?”

  “You’ve put pressure on our relationship. I’m not ready for that.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Then abruptly he left the narrow bed and went into the bathroom.

  After he was gone she refastened her clothes, re
pairing the havoc he’d created with his impetuous lovemaking. He was angry with her, no doubt about it. But she’d warned him that she had to know herself before she’d make a commitment to anyone. To her mind, speaking words of love equaled commitment.

  By the time he returned, she’d made a decision. “I’m moving back to the campground until Charlie’s wedding,” she said, standing.

  His face contorted as if she’d slapped him. “No,” he protested hoarsely.

  “Staying with you isn’t going to work. The more we’re together, the deeper involved we become. I’ve known it was a mistake, from the beginning, but I—” Tears filled her eyes and she turned away.

  He crossed the room and took her by the shoulders. “It is not a mistake. We’re right for each other, just like Charlie keeps telling us. Look, I was impatient a while ago. I’ve warned you that impatience is a failing of mine. If you want the word love kept out of our conversation, then fine, it’s out.”

  “But you were right to be impatient!” Her chin trembled. “I feel like a fool because I’m almost twenty-five years old and still playing butcher, baker, candlestick maker. I’m sick of indecision! Why can’t I just make up my mind what I want to do?”

  “Maybe you’re trying too hard,” he said desperately. “Maybe this deadline is spooking you. But don’t shut me out, Jill. Stay with me, please.”

  She shook her head. “When I’m with you I forget about everything but us. The whole purpose of this trip is for me to be alone, to think, and staying with you is distracting me from that purpose. And let me tell you, I understand distraction. I’m a master at finding ways to sidetrack myself from what I know must be done.”

  “I don’t buy it.” He gripped her shoulders. “Maybe people have convinced you that’s the way you are, but I’ve watched you work on the windows with creativity and efficiency until you finished. You attacked the mall problem with the same style.”

  “We still haven’t solved it, either,” she said, mustering the courage to look directly into his eyes. “You’re wonderful, but I think better alone. If you’ll drive me to your place, I’ll take the van back to the campground.”

  Defeat began settling over his features. “What if the campground’s full?”

  “You know it won’t be this time of year.” She took a deep breath. “I have to go, Spence. I’ll work with you on the mall situation, and I’ll be the maid of honor at Charlie’s wedding. That’s all. Then I’ll leave as we agreed I would.”

  His gaze was anguished. “Please don’t do this. I feel as if you’re slipping through my fingers. I can’t let you go. Not now, not next week.”

  “You have to. It’s the only way.” She couldn’t keep the tears back any longer. “You have to, Spence.”

  His jaw tightened. “If you leave town next week, and I don’t hear from you by June twelfth, I’ll come looking for you.”

  She shook her head, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. I’ll come back if I can. You must know that.”

  “I keep telling myself that you will. It’s all I have.” He touched her damp cheek. “Except for Charlie’s promise that our fate will be sealed on St. Valentine’s Day.”

  JILL SPENT a sleepless night forcing herself to concentrate on the problem at the mall instead of her yearning for Spence’s arms. She arrived at his office the next morning to find Charlie there with him. Spence looked haggard, but he smiled when she walked in. Charlie, on the other hand, sent her a disapproving glance, which she ignored.

  “I’ve thought of a new strategy,” she announced, sitting across the desk from Spence and next to Charlie. “Would you like to hear it?”

  Charlie brightened. “Does that mean that you can rejoin Spencer? He said you had to be alone to think, but if you’ve finished thinking, then…” His optimism faded as she slowly shook her head. “Oh, dear. I am most distressed by this turn of events. But Spencer assures me you will stay until after the wedding.”

  “Yes.”

  Charlie fingered the gold pin on his lapel. “Then I must be content with that, I suppose, but Spencer looks rather the worse for wear, wouldn’t you say?”

  Spence leaned back in his chair. “Thanks for the compliment.”

  “Well, of course you’re still a fine-looking young man,” Charlie added. “But I’d wager you had almost no sleep last evening, and I detect some dark smudges under Jill’s eyes, as well. I don’t believe this separation is healthy for either of you.”

  Spence glanced at Jill. “The lady has to have her space.”

  “Poppycock!” Charlie frowned at Jill. “My dear, I’ve tried to fathom this problem of a career choice, but—”

  “Charlie, lay off,” Spence interrupted quietly. “If space is what she needs, space is what she’ll get.”

  In her gratitude Jill almost blurted out her love for him right then and there. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “You’re welcome.” His gaze was steady, his smile sad. “Now what new strategy did you want to tell us about?”

  “We need to call another meeting,” she said, and briefly outlined her approach.

  “Brilliant!” Charlie concluded when she’d finished.

  “Sure makes lemonade out of our batch of lemons,” Spence acknowledged slowly. “I only hope we can turn this thing around soon enough. Tippy the Lip has that Anderson’s representative ready to sign the lease.”

  “How much time do you need?” Charlie asked.

  “A couple more days—three, maybe,” Spence said. “We can have the flyers out today, call the meeting for tomorrow night and possibly have the signatures ready to take in by Friday, if we get people stirred up enough.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Charlie said.

  “About what?” Spence asked. “How can you slow up the Anderson deal?”

  “Never mind how. Just leave it in my hands,” Charlie said, pushing himself from the chair. “I’ll report on my progress before the day is out.”

  Spence glanced at Jill and shrugged. “Okay, Charlie. Just keep it legal.”

  “My boy, I never run afoul of the law.” Charlie paused. “Well, almost never. There was one time, in Arizona…”

  Spence groaned.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, my boy. Everything will be just fine. You’ll see.” With a wave of his hand, Charlie walked out the office door.

  “Thanks for defending my decision to go back to the campground,” Jill said in a low voice after Charlie left. “That was a very noble thing to do.”

  He rested his chin on his hand and gazed at her. “Yeah. I’m noble, all right. I want to make love to you on this desk. How’s that for noble?”

  “Spence.” She glanced nervously toward the partly open office door. “Someone might hear you.”

  “Doesn’t much matter, if you mean Stephanie or Horace. They’re sharp kids and they’ve already figured out what’s been going on, or as of last night, not going on, between us.” He leaned back in the chair and stretched. “So did you miss me?”

  She watched the play of his shoulder muscles under his shirt. Did she miss him last night? Only with an ache that almost had her banging on his door at three in the morning. “A little,” she said.

  “But you got your thinking done.”

  “About the mall problem, yes.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not much else.”

  He leaned forward. “Come back to the house tonight, Jill. Shoot, if you’re determined to leave next week, you’ll have lots of time to think on the road.”

  She shook her head. “Staying with you would only make it tougher on both of us when I leave next week.”

  “I’m willing to suffer later for what I might gain now.”

  “That used to be the way I always operated,” she said with a soft smile. “But this time I’m determined to think ahead.”

  “Just my luck you’d change your philosophy right now.” He sighed. “Well…” He gazed at her silently until her skin prickl
ed. “Then think ahead to this,” he said at last. “You can be home before your birthday and back in my arms in time for a June wedding.”

  Her whole body tightened as she fought the urge to agree with him.

  “I knew you wouldn’t say yes or no, but I wanted to plant the idea in that busy mind of yours,” he said. “I want you, Jill. Don’t ever imagine that because I’m willing to wait, that I don’t want you with everything in me.”

  The intensity with which he spoke made her tremble. She swallowed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured.

  ON THURSDAY NIGHT Spence cornered Charlie and Gladys when they walked into the museum for the meeting. “Where’ve you two been all day?”

  “Gladys and I spent hours in a florist shop, selecting floral arrangements for the wedding,” Charlie said, patting Gladys’s hand where it was looped through his arm. “I’m having trouble allowing her to pay for everything, I don’t mind telling you.”

  “You’re being perfectly silly,” Gladys protested.

  “Nevertheless, my dear, it wounds my vanity somewhat, being a kept man.”

  Spence smiled. “So get a job.”

  “I have one,” Charlie said. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t pay very well.”

  “Saints aren’t supposed to care about money,” Spence teased.

  “Don’t be flippant, my boy. I sense that you don’t acknowledge my identity any more than Jill does. Thank goodness Gladys doesn’t doubt me.”

  “Not for a minute,” Gladys said, smiling up at him.

  “I have to admit you do some amazing things,” Spence said, “but I’m afraid calling yourself St. Valentine is a little off the wall.”

  “Which wall?”

  Spence chuckled. “Never mind. Slang expression. Anyway, I’ve been looking for you today because Tippy the Lip called me early this morning and accused me of having something to do with Anderson’s backing off for a few days.”

  Charlie exchanged a mysterious smile with Gladys. “What did you say?”

 

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