“Let’s hope they’re just as lucky,” her dad concurred, kissing the top of his wife’s graying head.
Sloane and David sat close as the tractor bumped along the farm’s lanes. Her father narrated the crop rotations, the weather facts, the old Native American lore that gave the place so much history and flavor, and all the while Sloane’s center throbbed as David’s leg pressed to hers, as his forceful hands held her waist, or stole a touch of a bouncing breast or bottom. She wanted it to be dark, so they could crawl into a tent together and make love.
Sloane had wanted to make love to him every minute since she sent him away that night at her apartment. Every night had been a torment; every day a test. She wasn’t going to deny herself anything this trip. She would eat what she wanted, say what she wanted, and do what she wanted, and she wanted to do David badly.
“This is where we’re camping, David. Dad, you set up my old red tent!” she cried, as the tractor stopped at a gorgeous clearing lined with leafy beech and chestnut trees. About ten tents sat in various positions, each just enough distance from the other to afford some privacy. There were wooden picnic tables, too, and a fire ring already heaped with downed branches.
David helped her from the tractor seat, and she ran toward her little tent. Before she got ten feet, she turned to David, and said, “Well, come on.” He jogged to her side and they proceeded to the shelter and looked inside the small space.
“There are two sleeping bags in here,” Sloane puzzled.
“Of course, dear, David called ahead to let us know he’d be with you,” her father answered.
Sloane, shocked into silence, quizzed David’s face.
“I had a heck of a time figuring out your flight schedule, but Bill and Dora helped me. In fact, I have spoken to them a few times over the weeks,” David remarked, and the sideways grin he shared with her father made Sloane feel like a child kept from a closet-full of presents at Christmastime.
How dare they all collude to . . .
Sloane couldn’t be mad. She had truly never felt happier.
Just as she struggled to quell her initial response, she heard war whoops and knew Charlie was close by.
Charlie and Rob, big robust men now, came across the clearing at a run. The two collided with Sloane, and they all ended up in a pile. They rolled like puppies at play, laughing and poking each other while Sloane’s father explained, “Those are my boys. They always loved their sister best.”
Sloane extricated herself from her brothers and stood up, brushing at her dress. “Come meet David,” she said, and the two men popped up like jack-in-the-boxes to greet their sister’s beau.
Handshakes and back pats abounded as David greeted the other men in Sloane’s life. She watched their boisterous exchanges, realizing Charlie and Rob also knew David would be attending the festivities. Apparently David hadn’t changed his meddling ways after all. For some reason, Sloane didn’t care.
Maybe it was the setting sun pinking the sky, the smell of chicken on the grill, the smiles on everyone’s faces, or the way David made her want to kiss him. Whatever it was, Sloane couldn’t fault David for his plans, for his manipulations. Sloane understood all his machinations were only to please her, to provide her with support and company on this difficult journey.
Sloane saw Eva across the clearing and a rush of elation made her nearly skip to her about-to-be sister’s side. “I can’t believe you came all the way from Alaska for us,” Eva said as she gave Sloane a big kiss on the cheek. “Now that you’re here, everything is complete. Do you know how happy your brother is?”
Charlie and Eva had David to thank for Sloane’s visit, but she didn’t say anything except, “You are going to be a stunning bride, Eva. I know you and Charlie will make a great marriage.”
Eva said, “Your brother is the man of my dreams. And today, tomorrow, it’s a new beginning for us. Is that your boyfriend with Dad and your brothers?”
“Um...I guess. It’s kind of complicated, but, yeah, that’s David Grant,” Sloane hedged.
“He looks mighty tasty from here.”
“Wait till you see him up close,” Sloane laughed.
Eva said, “I know how to get ‘em over here quick. Watch this.”
The tiny blonde held her hands to either side of her mouth, megaphone style. “Let’s eat!” Eva called from far across the field, and the race was on. All the men ran toward Eva and Sloane, long limbed, athletic David leading the pack.
Sloane laughed, yelling, “Daddy, catch them!”
The next couple of hours were spent catching up on all the gossip from town. Sloane laughed until tears sprang from her eyes at the stories her parents told. By the time dinner was served, Sloane was apprised of the who, what and whereabouts of all her old neighbors and friends. Sloane adored every moment spent with her large, loving family.
She also enjoyed consuming prodigious amounts of regional cuisine. She and David ate hardily of the salt potatoes, baked beans, fresh baked rolls, and especially delicious was the corn on the cob grown right on the farm.
“Mom, you’re going to make us fat,” Sloane declared.
Her mother ogled Sloane’s waste with keen eyes. “It does look like you’ve gained a few pounds since graduation.”
Sloane laughed, but she couldn’t argue. Despite her regular exercise routine—some variation of running, pilates, yoga, or brisk walks several times a week—she had gotten a bit rounded at the tummy. David reached over from his spot on the bench beside her and pulled her by the waist closer to his side.
“I love your figure,” he said, and Sloane’s mom smiled at him as if he were St. Michael.
Once everyone’s plate was emptied and only bones were left in the fire, the children disappeared into the house with their parents while the rest of the adults congregated around the bonfire burning at the center of the clearing. The smell of wood smoke wafted through the air like an aphrodisiac. Sloane snuggled into David’s lap, and he kissed her bare neck lovingly, sending flames of fire through her body.
“You have a wonderful family, Sloane. It’s easy to see why you became such a fine woman,” David whispered into the shell of her ear. “I wonder how you left all this behind, though I’m certainly glad you did.”
Sloane turned and looked into his deep brown eyes, “I don’t regret anything I’ve done since going to Alaska except ignoring you these past weeks. Thanks for not giving up on me.”
“Never,” he said, and Sloane’s heart swelled in her chest as her mind bounced with confusion.
He had used that word before, but when he said it then, he meant he would
never
commit, would
never
marry or have children. Now the word felt like a promise that Sloane didn’t quite trust.
Sloane rejected her doubts and pushed them away. What mattered was the here and now. When she returned to Alaska, when
they
returned to Alaska, she would face the inevitable truth. Sloane was only his girlfriend, not his soul mate.
She realized she was young and possessed plenty of time to make her dreams come true. If David couldn’t love her, she could enjoy him for now, for a little while longer before she had to say goodbye.
David and she sat quietly on an old tartan blanket, listening to the wedding guests chatter. The Milky Way spiraled above them, and fireflies dotted the lush foliage of the treetops. Eva and Charlie disappeared into their tent, and Sloane looked after them longingly.
If only it were David and me, she thought. If only we could find our own happily ever after. But it took two to believe, to make it happen. Sloane said a little prayer that maybe someday she would have a wedding of her own, a family to raise, a man to hold her like David held her now, forever under the stars.
As Sloane rested her head against David’s broad, firm chest, she heard him sigh contentedly. His exhaled breath smelled like mint, and Sloane felt her insides turn soft.
She languidly turned her face up to his, and said, “Want to go for a walk?”
“I’d rather take you to our tent and get that dress off you,” he said, and he ran his hand up her bare thigh, inching closer to her dampening panties.
Just as his forefinger pulled the elastic away from her inner thigh and she began to open her legs so he could access her heat, she heard a voice that made her stomach flip like an undercooked pancake.
“Hi, Sloane. How’s it going?”
It was Peter.
Sloane leaped to her feet like a spring-loaded jackrabbit, and David stood up behind her, not a little disturbed by the interruption.
“Peter!” she exclaimed and threw herself into his arms. So this was the ex-boyfriend, no, ex-fiancé, David remembered.
He didn’t like the way Sloane beamed up at him. Shouldn’t she be looking at Peter with embarrassment or lackluster enthusiasm? She left the guy brokenhearted, and now she acted like they’d been separated by war. Her voice sparkled like the firelight, and David could see she was definitely pleased to see her old flame.
David ground his teeth and inserted, “Hello, Peter. I’m David, Sloane’s boyfriend.”
Peter grinned over Sloane’s shoulder and David saw the man wasn’t ugly, wasn’t short, and wasn’t letting go of Sloane. He reminded himself to breathe, to unclench his fists, to extend a hand in welcome.
Sloane let go first and stepped back to David’ side, and said, “This is my friend from Alaska, Peter. David Grant, this is Peter Martinez. My oldest, dearest friend.”
David didn’t like the word friend being used to describe his and Sloane’s relationship, but he especially loathed that he was the friend and Peter named the better friend.
He shook Peter’s hand and noticed the man had a strong grip.
David watched as Peter turned back to Sloane and said, “Hey, you never wrote or called once. Is that any way to treat your ardent admirer?”
Sloane laughed—no, she giggled, and the sound that David typically found the most melodious in the world now turned his bones to stone.
“Peter, you know you told me to give you a little time. Was three years too long?” she needled fondly, so that David was reminded she left Alaska to escape her feelings for this man. A man who now rivaled David for Sloane’s attention.
“Five minutes away from you was too long. You know that. I have really missed you, but a lot has gone on. Did your brothers fill you in?”
“I told them not to speak of you,” she admitted, and David was struck by their honest rapport. It seemed that he had disappeared, and they spoke only to each other.
“I understand,” Peter said, and he moved to sit. “Let’s talk for a minute, okay?”
Sloane immediately sat next to Peter and left David standing awkwardly alone. He jammed his fists into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
Sloane patted the blanket and said, “Please sit, David.”
Damned right he would sit there, he thought, and sat heavily on the ground next to Sloane. He threw his arm over her shoulder possessively, and she turned and gave him a wide eyed, “not now” look. He ignored her silent request. He would have cupped her breast if she hadn’t imprisoned his fingers to prevent it.
Peter began, “Sloane, after you left, I moped around for a while, but then I started dating Consuelo.”
“Consuelo?” Sloane asked, and David could hear disbelief in her voice. “Isn’t she a little young for you?”
“Well, she practically raised her brothers and sisters after her mother died. She is mature beyond her years. Don’t look at me like I robbed the cradle or anything.” Peter smiled into Sloane’s dubious face.