by Karen Guffey
CHAPTER TEN
Marie dressed slowly the next morning. She hadn't felt such an ambivalence about her walk since . . . since the morning they'd left for Hollywood. Had that been only nine days ago? It seemed like a long time.
Rick was in the hall waiting for her. She blushed when she looked into his eyes. She'd spent the previous evening cuddled up to him, returning the gentle kisses he'd kept raining on her lips. Rick had kissed her more times last night than Davis had the entire time they'd been together, and she couldn't look at him without thinking of those kisses.
Silently Rick took her hand and led her downstairs. In the garden, he took her face between his hands, kissing her softly. "If you get home, I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too," she whispered, hugging him.
She made herself focus her mind on her parents as she wandered through the garden. She missed talking to her mother. She knew her mother would understand about Davis. All she wanted was for Marie to be happy. She'd always been nice to Davis, but she'd never treated him like a son. But she'd love Rick. Rick was so warm and funny, and her mother would feel comfortable with him.
She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Even when she thought about her family, Rick somehow surfaced in her mind.
Rick glanced at his watch. She'd been in the garden for 20 minutes. It was foggier than usual--was that an indication that there'd be a door or window or whatever back to 1927? Now that he'd told her he loved her, had opened his heart to her completely, he couldn't bear the thought that she might not walk back into his arms.
So when he at last saw her moving through the fog, he ran to snatch her up. "Marie," he sighed into her hair.
She could barely breathe but didn't want to be released. When he at last set her down, she continued to cling to him. "I wish you didn't have to go to work today."
He was surprised by her words. "Do you want me to call in sick?"
She drew back to look at him. "Would you do that?"
"If you need me, sure."
She smiled. "I need you. But I don't want you to miss work. I'll finish the laundry and dust. We need to go to the market when you get home."
He hugged her again. "How would you feel about inviting my sister and her boyfriend for dinner one evening this week?" he asked as he walked her back to the house. Last night it had occurred to him that she might feel more inclined to stay in 2011 if she had friends here.
"All right." She looked up at him. "Are you going to tell her about me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you going to tell her I'm from 1927?"
"Are you kidding? She’d think I’d lost my mind. I'll just tell her that you're my girlfriend."
She smiled, but all at once her smile dissolved into an uncomfortable blush. "Rick," she began hesitantly, "will you have to tell her that-that I'm living with you?"
"No." He raised her knuckles to his lips. "I'm sorry, sweetheart—I never considered that living here with me might make you uncomfortable."
"It doesn't. I feel as safe with you as I do in my own home. I just--it's just that no one else would understand."
"Well, don't worry about Teri. I won't tell her, and she's going to love you."
They went into the kitchen to fix breakfast. Marie glanced at Rick as he poured juice. When he noticed her glance, she dropped her eyes to the bread she was buttering. "Rick," she began at last, "do you remember when you first kissed me?"
"With perfect clarity." He grinned at her.
She smiled a bit, her eyes on her knife as she spread the butter. "I wanted you to kiss me then."
"I know." When she looked up in astonishment, he explained, "I wouldn't have kissed you if you hadn't wanted me to. Like I told you that night, I'll never do anything you don't like."
"But how did you know I wanted you to kiss me?"
"By the way you were looking at me."
"How was I looking at you?"
"Like you wanted me to kiss you." He grinned again as he reached for the eggs.
She frowned, trying to remember what expression she must have had on her face that night. But she hadn't been thinking about how she looked; she'd been thinking about how he looked. And how his lips would feel on hers.
It was as they were cleaning up after breakfast that inspiration struck her. Handing him a tub of butter, she caught his gaze, holding it as she thought about the way he'd kissed her yesterday afternoon.
Entranced by Marie's beautiful hazel eyes, Rick drew her close and bent his head to kiss her. Seconds later, he was startled by a giggle that interrupted their kiss. "What's so funny?" he demanded.
"It works!"
"What works?"
"I thought about kissing you while I was looking at you, and you kissed me!"
He shook his head. "So you were experimenting. You didn't really want to kiss me--you just wanted to see if you could get me to do it."
"Oh, Rick, that's not true!" she cried, afraid she'd hurt him. She laid her hands on his chest, leaning into him as she looked up at him. "I really did want to kiss you. I couldn't have gotten that look on my face if I hadn't wanted to kiss you."
He drew her closer. "Prove it."
"How?"
"Kiss me."
She blushed, but after a moment, she stood on tiptoe and raised her face to press her lips against his. She wasn't sure how to begin a kiss, but that obviously wasn't going to be a problem: his lips began moving over hers the moment that they touched.
When Rick released her, she gazed up at him anxiously. "You aren't upset, are you?"
He caressed her cheek, dropping a light kiss on her lips. "No. I'm not upset."
They went to the grocery store that evening and bought ingredients for the next day's dinner. Rick had called his sister, and she'd been thrilled Rick had a girl he wanted her to meet and mad that he hadn't invited her sooner. If Marie was going to make dinner at his house, they'd obviously been dating long enough to feel pretty comfortable together.
"I shouldn't have made garlic bread. All evening my breath will smell like garlic," Marie told Rick as she finished making dinner the next evening.
"So will everyone else's."
"Are you sure Teri likes garlic?"
"She loves it."
"What about Jeremy? You don't know him that well--maybe he's a vegetarian." They were having meat lasagna. "Maybe I should make something else, some spaghetti or--"
"Shhh." He took her face in his hands, making her look into his eyes. "Everything'll be fine, sweetheart. You're a terrific cook, and they'll love what you've made." He brushed his lips over hers.
Marie didn't relax until everyone had tasted the lasagna that evening. It was good, and she smiled when Rick winked at her over his second forkful.
"Do you cook a lot?" Teri asked Marie.
"Not a lot. Four or five times a week."
"I'd call that a lot. I usually cook twice a week and have takeout the rest of the time."
"Oops."
Everyone looked at Rick, who was using his napkin to dab at a spot on his shirt. "I hope this doesn't stain."
"I'll soak it tonight and wash it tomorrow," Marie told him.
Teri looked from Rick to Marie. "He has you doing his laundry?"
Marie blushed. "I-I just . . . I mean, I'll do his shirt with my laundry. In-in case he doesn't get around to doing it himself right away."
"She does her laundry here sometimes," Rick said. "There's not a hook-up in her apartment."
"Oh. I know a lot of grad students, so I know what that's like." They'd told Teri and Jeremy that Marie was working on a master's degree in history at Boston College.
As they headed for the living room, Rick slid his arm around Marie's waist, leaning close to whisper, "You're doing fine, sweetheart."
She glanced up at him. "It's so hard to pretend we don't live together."
He kissed her hair. "That's because it's bec
ome so natural to you."
Rick sat in a chair across from Marie rather than joining her on the loveseat so that they wouldn't appear too familiar with each other. He was glad his conscience had gotten the best of him and kept him from seducing her Monday night. If having Teri and Jeremy suspect that they were living together embarrassed her, losing her virginity before marriage would devastate her.
"So how did you like my sister?" Rick asked Marie when their guests had left.
"She's really nice. So is Jeremy. I'd like to have them over again next week."
He waited for her to add, "If I'm still here." When she didn't, he released a slow sigh of relief. "OK. You probably won't be so nervous about it next time."
She smiled, joining him on the sofa. "I might even use garlic again. But I have to admit that I sneaked upstairs to brush my teeth after we ate."
He tilted her face up so that their lips were almost touching. "So did I."
She felt his breath in her mouth. "I can tell."
He nibbled at her lips. "I was very proud of you tonight."
"Really?" She clutched at his shoulders, her breath coming faster.
"Yeah." He wove his fingers into her hair and began pressing kisses along her neck. "You were the perfect hostess. And you looked so incredibly beautiful."
"I-I'm sure that thought didn't-didn't cross Teri's mind." She arched her neck, her heart racing wildly.
"It crossed mine more than once." He raised his head to look into her eyes. "I love you, Marie."
"Rick," she breathed, her hands sliding to his neck, squeezing, pulling him to her. His mouth covered hers, his kiss slow and hot and thorough. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to get closer to him. When he raised his head, she whimpered, wanting his mouth on hers again. But she gasped with pleasure as he began nibbling on her earlobe.
Rick wanted to do much more than kiss her, and she was making it difficult to resist. He'd never held a woman so eager, so responsive to his slightest touch. But he had to stop. He had to stop now.
He raised his head, straightening and pulling away. But Marie clung to him, rubbing her face against his neck. "Kiss me again, please," she murmured, raising her head to press her lips to his.
He couldn't resist her, and his mouth began moving over hers again. But at last he forced himself to break away. "Marie, we have to stop," he told her, literally holding her at arm's length.
"Why?" she panted. "Why don't you want to kiss me any more?"
"I want to--I just can't. Let me cool off a minute."
"I don't want to cool off." On the contrary--she wanted more of the kisses and caresses that had set her on fire. But when she tried to put her arms around him, he held her away. Hurt, she stood up and whirled around to go to her room.
"Marie, wait. Please. Sit down and let's talk about this."
Her body still throbbing with the pulse he'd made race, she perched on the edge of the sofa. "I didn't want you to stop."
"And I didn't want to stop. But sweetheart . . ." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. Was he a fool? Shouldn't he have just gone on and on until--unless--she told him to stop? But he was willing to bet that she had no idea where they'd been headed, and she was so passionate that she might have yielded to him without even thinking. And despised both herself and him when it was over.
Marie pressed her lips together, trying to read Rick's expression. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no--you did everything right." He sighed, taking her hand. "Marie, do you know what a man and woman . . . when they're in love . . . do you know . . . what happens on-on your wedding night?"
"Of course. My mother told me about it."
"Is that what you wanted to happen between us tonight?"
"No! Of course not! How can you even think that?" She stared at him in shock.
"I don't think that. What I'm trying to tell you is that kissing like that is where it begins."
She frowned, too puzzled and curious to be embarrassed by the conversation. "So you stopped kissing me because you didn't want to-to . . . be like we were married?"
"No." He raised her palm to his lips. "I want to make love to you more than I want anything in the world." He watched her face grow red. "But I knew that you wouldn't want to."
She held his hand in both of hers, playing with his fingers. "And-and it feels as good as--as good as kissing?"
"Better. Much, much better."
She grew warm imagining a pleasure greater than what he'd made her feel a few minutes ago. "I wish--" She stopped, swallowing and closing her eyes.
"You wish what?" When she didn't respond, he tilted her chin up, making her look into his eyes. "Stay here, Marie. Marry me. We'll have a wedding night more exciting than anything you could imagine."
Her breath caught, and tears filled her eyes. "I-I can't, Rick. I have to go home." She squeezed his hand. "My home, my family, everything I know is in 1927. My mother has been saving her wedding gown for me. It was my grandmother's too. And-and I want my own daughter to wear it." But she wanted that daughter to be Rick's, she realized with despair.
Rick kissed her cheek, his heart aching for both of them. "I understand, sweetheart. But I want you to know that I love you and that if you ever change your mind, I'll make you my wife and make you so happy you'll never regret your decision."
He kissed her then, but she found the pleasure too painful to bear and ended the kiss, pressing her face into his shoulder as she cried. His declaration that he wanted to marry her had torn her apart. She loved him so much. But she didn't belong here! She had a home, a mother and father and brother and friends . . . but she loved Rick!
She finally cried herself to sleep, and Rick carried her up to bed. He felt guilty for trying to get her to stay, but he was sure she loved him as much as he loved her. She wouldn't be so upset if she didn't. Laying her on her bed, he smoothed her hair. She had been here for over four weeks, and she'd had no indication that there was a way back to 1927. She could be here for the rest of her life, but he knew that until she accepted that, until she decided that she wanted to stay here, she'd never be totally his. And he wanted her to be his, heart, body, mind, and soul.