Authors: Sherryl Woods
Marrying Hank would be a way out. Together they might be able to fight the state’s decision about Melissa and adopt her themselves. She wouldn’t have to give up her baby. The thought of losing Melissa had affected her more deeply than anything that had happened in the past. Though letting go of other foster children had never been easy, she’d always been able to get beyond the sharp tug of emotion to accept the decisions as being best for the child. But she’d never had Hank in her life before. She’d never felt that she, too, could offer a complete family. She had begun thinking of their relationship as permanent long before this moment and the prospect of losing Melissa had shaken the fantasy. Marrying Hank would allow her to keep it alive.
But was that the only reason she was considering his proposal? If Hank had proposed tonight under any other circumstances, would she have said yes? She couldn’t be sure. Only a few days earlier she’d turned him down without hesitation. She almost laughed at the trap in
which she’d caught herself. She finally knew without any lingering doubts that Hank was in love with her, was content with what they had found together. She even knew with blinding clarity that she was truly, deeply in love with him. But her motives in marrying him? They would be less than pure.
“I can’t, Hank,” she whispered finally. “I can’t marry you. Not now.”
She saw the astonishment register in his eyes, then the flash of hurt. “Why the hell not?”
If she hadn’t been so miserable, she might have laughed at his purely masculine indignation. “Because it wouldn’t be fair.”
“Fair to whom? I love you. There’s no doubt about that, right?”
She nodded, believing at last that it was true.
“And you love me? Or am I being too arrogant in assuming that?”
“No. I do,” she admitted openly for the first time.
“And it could solve the problem with Melissa?”
“It might.”
“Then could you explain for the benefit of my apparently simple brain why we can’t get married.”
“What if the only reason we’re doing it is because of Melissa?”
“Didn’t you hear a word I just said? We’re in love, Annie. We’ve admitted it. No more hiding from it. People who are in love get married. They have families. They live happily ever after. It’s the thing to do.”
She sighed. “I know. It’s the timing.”
“That is the craziest, most ridiculous, dumbest bit of reasoning I have ever heard in my life,” he said, dropping her hands and pacing around the kitchen,
bumping into things and knocking them aside until it looked as though a war had been waged in the middle of the room.
“Hank, sit down,” she said, deciding she’d better calm him down before he started breaking things.
“I don’t want to sit. I want to break things,” he said, voicing her fears. As if to demonstrate, he picked up a glass and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall. Apparently satisfied with the minimal expression of violence, he calmly walked over and cleaned it up, while Ann just stared at him.
“Feel better?” she said finally.
He dropped the shards of glass into the trash and regarded her sheepishly. “Frankly, no.”
“Good. Then you won’t bother to break anything else, will you?”
“Don’t count on it.”
An untimely chuckle emerged from somewhere deep inside her. He scowled ferociously. “I’m sorry,” she said at once.
“Annie, what are we going to do about this?”
“We’ll think about it. I’m sure with two well-educated brains between us we can come up with a rational decision.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” he said, suddenly looming over her, his expression fierce. “Maybe we’ve been too rational about this for too long. Maybe it’s time we just acted.”
Something about the hungry, determined look in his eyes made her pulse leap and then race wildly. “What do you mean?”
“This,” he said, pulling her up and slanting his mouth over hers. His lips were hard and demanding, his tongue
persuasive. He backed her against the kitchen counter and pinned her there, his body pressed tight against hers. Ann moaned a halfhearted protest, but it was swallowed by yet another marauding kiss as his hands set her body on fire and melted the last of her resistance. His arousal hard against her set off a sweet ache that grew in intensity until it reached an almost unbearable tension.
Hank slid a hand beneath her skirt, running his fingers along her thigh until he reached the moist heat at the apex. Ann felt the room spin crazily as sensations raced through her. Raw, urgent need sprang to life, tearing away the last shred of sanity. She began frantically working at the buttons on his shirt. Why had he worn the damnable thing tonight of all nights, when she needed to be able to slide his shirt away in one easy movement? When she needed so very badly to touch the rippling muscles beneath? Finally she freed the shirt from his pants. She ran her hands over his chest, then pressed kisses on the heated flesh, finally finding the masculine nipple that was flat and already hard with arousal. She felt Hank tremble as she circled that nipple with her tongue again and again.
The pain that she’d felt when she’d heard that Melissa might be taken away began to ease, lost for the moment in other sensations, the way his flesh came alive beneath her fingers, the warm, musky scent of him.
“Not here, sweetheart,” she heard Hank murmur as he slid an arm beneath her knees and lifted her off the floor. When they reached her room, he set her slowly back on her feet, then reached behind her to lock the door and flip on the light.
The trip through the house had restored some of
Ann’s sanity. “Hank, this is crazy. There are six children in this house.”
“Not at the moment.”
“Where are they?”
“Out.”
“Out where?” she said, then lost track of the question’s importance as his lips found an especially sensitive spot behind her knee.
“Oh, my,” she gasped softly, her eyes widening.
“That’s good?”
“Very good.”
“How about here?”
“Hmm.”
“And here?”
She giggled and he laughed. “Not so good there,” he said. “Okay, how about here?”
Here was…incredible, she thought with another gasp of pleasure. The laughter died and the loving became very serious indeed. Here, in his arms, she had no more doubts. Here she forgot about the past, stopped worrying about the future and lived only for the present.
She found herself letting go, allowing her body to soar, relinquishing her hard-won control without fear. Hank would never harm her. He would never take her anyplace he wouldn’t go himself. And, as she felt him explode deep inside her, she believed with all her heart that he would never leave her, that their love could see them through anything. That faith sent her over the edge and, clinging tightly to him, she cried out his name in joyous surrender.
Hank propped himself up on his elbow and studied the woman lying next to him. Her cheeks were still
flushed, her dark hair damp and feathered around her face. The tips of her breasts were rose-hued and puckered in the chilly air. She was so beautiful, with a radiance that began inside and left her glowing. Her skin was as smooth as ivory. Her lips had the power to tempt him beyond reason. Her slightest touch could heat his body in a way that drove him to distraction. His heart was filled to bursting with the sheer wonder of loving her.
He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, heard the slight catch in her breath, the gentle sigh.
Her eyes still closed, a smile playing about her still-swollen lips, she said quietly, “This won’t solve our problem, you know.”
“If you think that, then you haven’t been listening.”
“Listening?” Her smile grew. “Is this your way of conversing?”
“Can you think of any more intimate form of communication?”
“No, but some people think words cover more ground and offer more clarity.”
He shook his head. “Then they’ve never experienced the language of love.” He gently cupped her breast as he gazed into her eyes, his thumb insistently grazing the sensitive peak. “What am I saying now?”
When the color rose in her cheeks and she tried to look away, he tilted her chin up until she was forced to face him.
“I’m saying I love you.” He smoothed his hand over the curve of her hip. “And now?”
Ann swallowed convulsively as he continued the slow strokes.
“Well?” he prodded.
“I love you,” she said hesitantly.
“Very good. You’re catching on.”
“Thank you, professor.”
“Should I continue?”
“Please do.”
He did—and no lesson had ever been more exhilarating, no discussion more thrilling.
And when they were lying tangled together, breathless from experiencing all the nuances of the language of love, he whispered, “Have I made myself clear yet?”
“Very clear.”
“Then you’ll marry me?”
“Yes,” she said finally and without hesitation. “Yes, Hank, I’ll marry you.”
He grinned at her. “It’s about time. I was running out of arguments.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” She cuddled more closely into his side.
“Annie.”
“Hmm?”
“I hate to ruin a good moment, but the kids…”
“Oh, my God!” she said, sitting straight up and pulling the sheet up to her chin.
“Settle down,” he soothed. “They’re not in the room, but they are likely to be getting home soon and we probably should not be in here.”
“Good thinking,” she said, gathering up her clothes, which had been flung from one end of the bedroom to the other. “You get out. I’m taking a shower.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “One last kiss.”
Her lips were still warm and tasted of salt and musk. It was all he could do to relinquish her. Finally, swatting her gently on the bottom, he said, “Go. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at the kitchen table with the overly done meal in front of them when the truck doors began slamming outside.
“You’d better eat fast,” Hank advised. “We were supposed to eat the chicken before it turned to leather.”
Ann’s eyes widened. “You mean you weren’t responsible for all this?”
“Nope. Your sweet, innocent children set the scene tonight for the great seduction. I think they got tired of leaving it to us.”
“Are we supposed to tell them how it turned out?”
Hank glanced pointedly at Ann’s glowing face and her hastily donned bathrobe. “I don’t think we’ll have to say a word,” he said as the back door creaked open.
Tracy stuck her head in hesitantly. “Don’t mind us. I just wanted you to know we’re home. We’ll go in the front door.”
“That’s not really necessary,” Ann said.
“It’s not?” Tracy said, her voice instantly filled with disappointment. “How come?”
“Because this is your house and you don’t have to go tiptoeing around in the dark outside.”
Tracy glanced at Hank hopefully. “Did you like dinner?”
“It was very special. Now why don’t you just go ahead and ask what you really want to know?”
At his teasing tone, a broad grin broke over her face. “Did it work?”
He glanced over at Ann and winked. “That depends on exactly what you had in mind. I did ask Ann to marry me.”
There was a barely smothered whoop from the crowd of kids huddling in the dark behind Tracy. The door opened wider and all six faces peered at Ann.
“And?” Jason demanded impatiently.
“I said yes.”
“Oh, wow!” Tracy sighed dreamily.
“Fantastic!”
“We’re going to be a real family?” David asked.
“A real family,” Hank promised. His eyes intent on Ann’s, he added, “All of us.”
With Hank’s promise echoing in her ears, she held out her arms to Melissa, who came running. With a lump in his throat, Hank watched the chubby-cheeked toddler crawl into Ann’s lap and lay her head sleepily against Ann’s breast. No matter what it took, he vowed to fight for Melissa and win. He would keep them all together.
“I think we should celebrate,” Jason said, sounding very mature until his voice skidded up, then back down, in midsentence.
“Good idea,” Hank and Ann concurred as Jason opened the refrigerator door, then turned to stare at them, a puzzled expression on his face. “The strawberries and stuff are still in here. What have you guys been doing all this time? We’ve been gone for hours.”
“Jason!” Tracy said. “How dumb are you?”
He immediately blushed a fiery shade of red, then
grinned with impish enthusiasm. “I guess it worked pretty good.”
“I guess it did,” Hank said, reaching over to take Ann’s hand. “Better than I’d ever dreamed possible.”
Epilogue
T
he backyard was filled with pink balloons. They were tied to the backs of lawn chairs. Like bunches of colorful coconuts, they dangled from the palm trees. They floated above the redwood picnic table that was laden with brightly wrapped packages.
“Hey, Dad, what do you think?” David called as Hank rounded the corner of the house.
Hank followed the sound of David’s voice and finally spotted him high up in the banyan tree. “I think you’d better get down from that tree before your mother catches you and has a heart attack.”
“His mother is up here with him,” Ann said, parting the branches and peering down at him. Hank’s breath caught in his throat. “We’re decorating.”
“Ann,” he began in a choked voice as his heart thumped unsteadily. The woman obviously had nerves
of steel. His own had taken a decided beating over the past year.
“Don’t be such a worrywart,” she chided, lowering herself awkwardly from a sturdy limb to the top rung of a stepladder. “I was climbing ladders long before you came along. Who do you think painted the house?”
That was not a point he cared to discuss while his wife was dangling from a tree. He still hadn’t gotten accustomed to the hodgepodge of colors. For the moment, he intended to stick to her tree-climbing activities.
“You were not six months’ pregnant at the time,” he reminded her, holding the ladder steady as she descended.
“I
am
a little more ungainly than usual,” she admitted, patting her swollen belly. “You never answered us. How do the balloons look?”