sweats that have always been too big for me.”
Jake almost ran to the bedroom. Wearing nothing but a skimpy towel was putting a strain on his self-control. And the way she’d looked at him! He was afraid his towel would catch fire. But then she’d backed off. She’d squeezed those lemons until there was nothing left but pulp. Damned if it wasn’t confusing.
He found the sweats and tugged them on, for the first time noticing the details of her bedroom. It had the same airy serenity of the living room, but there was a difference in the atmosphere.
It was warmer, more sensual. Her table lamp was reflected in the rich patina of her brass bedstead. The bed linens and quilt were peach, trimmed in satin. The room was sparsely decorated. Just the bed and a low oak dresser with a white marble top, above which a wood-trimmed oval mirror was centered on the wall. A small television sat on the dresser.
Jake stretched out on the bed and thought of the cache of undies and nighties he’d found that first night… satin and lace and raw silk. He was beginning to understand Amy. She kept the sensuous part of her private, wearing it under her clothes, confining it to the bedroom. She was a lady-in-waiting. The big question was, how long did she want to wait? She said she didn’t necessarily care about marriage. What
Amy brought Jake his lemonade and sat Indian-style on the bed, next to him. She zapped the television with the remote control, but couldn’t get interested in the ten o’clock news. She had the clinic on her mind. She was beginning to share Jake’s belief that Turner and Bottles knew more about the rooster’s disappearance than they’d admitted to, but what about the second break-in? It didn’t make any sense.
Jake sipped his drink and watched Amy. “You look like a woman with a lot on her mind.”
“I can’t help wondering about Red. Why would you-” She stopped in midsentence and stared openmouthed at the television. There she was in living color, holding a container of alleged rooster soup. “Omigosh.”
Jake scrambled to the edge of the bed. “We made the ten o’clock news?”
“… and so, there you have it, folks. The question remains unanswered. Has Lulu the Clown cooked Red’s goose?”
Amy felt her eyes fill with tears. “What a terrible thing to say about Lulu.”
Jake pulled Amy into his arms and shut the television off.
“We must have missed something, Amy. The reason. We need to know the reason for all this. There have to be clues. We just haven’t recognized them.”
Amy didn’t care about clues. She cared about getting kissed. She cared about getting closer to Jake. A
He looked at her face, flushed with desire, and knew she wasn’t going to tell him to stop tonight. Heaven knew, he didn’t want to stop, but there was a meddlesome voice, whispering through the cobwebs of his mind, “Why?” He wanted to be sure it was love. This had been a strange day. He was afraid her emotions might be jumbled.
“Amy, I think we’d better stop now.”
“Why?”
“Because if we don’t stop soon… we’re not going to stop at all, and you’re going to get devirgined.”
“So?”
“You don’t want me?”
“Of course I want you! Anyone can see I want you. I’ve completely stretched the crease out of my sweats.”
“Well?”
“For Pete’s sake, Amy, you don’t just rush into these things. You have to get to know people.” He couldn’t believe he was saying any of this. The woman of his dreams was panting on the sacrificial altar.
“Besides, you have to take precautions when you do these things, and I don’t have any… um, precautions with me. If we did it without precautions you might end up with kittens.” Did he say “kittens”?
Amy laughed out loud. “I wouldn’t mind having kittens. Motley needs a playmate.”
Jake grinned. “Don’t laugh. This is serious.”
“You’re right. It is serious,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’ve waited a long time for the right man to come along.”
She looked into his soft brown eyes and wondered if he loved her. She knew he cared, but love… she was afraid to hope for love. It almost didn’t matter. She couldn’t help the way she felt about him, and if it had to be a one- sided love affair, then she would have to live with it.
Jake’s heart was caught in his throat. “Are you sure I’m the right man?”
Amy tugged at the drawstring of his sweats, loosening the knot. “I’m sure. I’ve never felt like this before. I love you.”
She loved him. He felt like his heart had just been blown up like a helium balloon. She loved him!
Amy closed her eyes. “Oh geez. I’ve said the wrong thing. You look like you just got punched in the stomach.”
“I was surprised. I didn’t think… I never dreamed. I mean, I’d hoped, but… Oh, hell.” He kissed her.
“Amy, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you. When you stole my parking place. And I have a confession to make. I followed you all through the supermarket, waiting for my chance to marry you. And when I offered you a job, I didn’t know I needed a receptionist.”
He kissed her again. “I love you.” He drew her closer, feeling fiercely possessive. “I love you.”
His voice had turned bedroom sexy, deep and raspy soft. His brown eyes darkened as his hand moved over the nape of her neck.
He drew a playful line along the side of her breast to her rib cage. “I’d like to spend the night with you.”
“The night. Hmmm. Just exactly what are your intentions?” Amy purred.
Jake whispered a few suggestions in her ear.
Amy’s eyes opened wide in anticipation. “I think at least one of those things is illegal in this state.”
Jake slid off the bed. “I’m going to check on Spot and make sure things are locked up for the night.”
When he returned the room was dusky, lit by two brass candlesticks Amy had placed on the dresser. She sat on one side of the bed, her legs partially curled under her. She wore a short, creamy satin shift with spaghetti straps and a dab of her best perfume at her throat. The satin clung to her breasts, perfectly outlining every detail, and molded into the dimple of her navel. She smiled at Jake’s reaction: a sharp intake of breath.
The candles flickered out and Amy and Jake were intertwined in a tangle of sheets and spent passion.
“Nice,” Amy said.
He thought “nice” was a little bland. He’d felt like the earth had moved. The after part, the cuddling… that was nice.
He grinned at her and kissed her nose. “You’re going to be sore.”
“Maybe, but right now I feel glorious.”
Amy opened her eyes. She felt as though she’d been run over by a dumptruck. She remembered Jake and decided it was a terrific dumptruck. She had sore muscles in places she’d never known muscles existed.
She limped into the shower and stood under steaming water until her skin turned lobster red. She washed her hair, wrapped herself in a towel, brushed her teeth, and smiled at herself in the mirror. Much better. Better than better. Wonderful.
“I love being in love,” she said to her mirror image. “I love Jake. I love me. I love mornings.”
She quickly dressed in a pair of faded blue shorts and a gray T-shirt advertising running shoes, and padded out to the kitchen, looking for Jake. A coffee cup was on the counter; Jake couldn’t be far off. She found him leaning on a lawn mower, talking to a neighbor. They were discussing lime.
Jake wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek affectionately. “Jerry loaned me his lawn mower, and he thinks we should lime the backyard.”
Amy smiled at Jerry. Lime the backyard? Wasn’t lime a color? A fruit?
“I’ve got some hedge clippers, too,” Jerry said. “I’ve got everything. All you have to do is ask. I’ve got a daughter who baby sits. You folks have any children?”
Jake squeezed Amy. “Not yet, but we’re working on it.”
