A Drive-By Wedding Read online

  “Hey.”

  Allyn brushed a butterfly kiss across the hollow of his shoulder; he dipped his head to plant a circumspect reciprocal kiss on her mouth, pulled back a little and smiled at her.

  “Hey, yourself. You all right?”

  “Mmm.” A delicious murmur that tickled his chest when she snuggled her cheek against it. “That was…I didn’t know.”

  He huffed wry laughter. “Trust me, neither did I.” The understatement of the century if ever he’d made one. “I’ve never…that never happened before.”

  She was suddenly alert, rolling over to prop herself up with her arms braced across his chest and her chin resting on the backs of her hands.

  “What do you mean, that never happened before?” she asked, interested. “I thought you weren’t a virgin. You mean you’ve never had an orgas—”

  Laughter roared out of him, drawn from the tips of his toes through the pit of his belly. He caught her arms and hauled her up, stopped her mouth by slanting his across it.

  “More,” she muttered, reaching for him when he pressed her away. “More.”

  “Glutton,” he chuckled, but drew her back, caught his hands in her hair and gave her what she asked for—what he wanted beyond reason.

  “Mmm,” she sighed when they came up for air at last. “I liked that. That was very nice. Now…” Her voice was brisk, businesslike, no longer sighing.

  Jeth choked, understanding too late that sidetracking Allyn was only temporary at best and, at worst, he’d been had.

  By a master.

  “As I was saying,” she continued, “you mean to tell me that in all the times you’ve made love or had sex or whatever you called it—and how many times was that, by the way, and what did you call it because you seem pretty damned talented at it to me, although I’m no judge, of course, but still—you mean to say you’ve never, not even once, um, what is the term? Oh, yes—” she blinked innocently at him “—come?”

  Torn between astonishment and outraged laughter, he could only ask in return, “Do you ever not say what’s on your mind?”

  She batted her eyes, all outlandish something or other with the accent to match. “My momma done taught me the onliest way ta learn anythin’ was ta ask th’ questions you wanted answers to.”

  Jeth snorted. “Yeah, well, my momma taught me it’s polite to keep a civil tongue in your head and keep it there without wagging it on occasion—especially if you’re questioning somebody’s manhood.”

  “I’m not questioning your manhood,” Allyn told him blithely, draping herself more comfortably across him. “I’m asking whether or not you’ve ever actually sown any wild oats before since you just said, and I quote, ‘that never happened before,’ end quote.”

  He stared at her. “You are unbelievable.”

  “I know,” she agreed immodestly. “Now answer the question.”

  He gave her a devilish grin. “How crude shall I be?”

  She pursed her lips and blinked beguiling, schoolmarmish eyes at him.

  He sighed, chuckled ruefully. “You’d charm the devil out of his socks if you had reason, wouldn’t you?”

  Allyn shrugged, offered him solemn. “I’d do it for you, I’d do it for Sasha, I’d do it for my family. Whatever it took, yeah.”

  His heart clenched; he traced a few strands of hair out of her face, humbled by an admission he wasn’t entirely certain he was ready to hear, an honor he wasn’t sure he deserved.

  It was an awesome burden: frightening, challenging, gut-wrenching, gladdening. He held it inside himself, half wishing he didn’t believe her, that he could ignore what she’d said, toss it away.

  That it would be forever true.

  He puffed his cheeks and blew out the breath. “Okay,” he said. “You want serious, here it is. I don’t sow wild oats, I wear a condom or sometimes two if I don’t know who I’m sleeping with. I’ve been the ‘don’t know who I’m sleeping with’ route exactly twice and didn’t like myself much afterward. It was right after my baby sister was killed by some guys who were looking for me and I was drunk on my ass both times.” He cupped her face, traced her brow, her jaw, her lips. “The thing that’s only happened with you that never happened with any other woman is…” He stopped, blew out another breath, made an inadequate gesture. “Geez, how to put it. I guess… I dunno. Maybe it’s the difference between having sex and making love. Suffice it to say it’s never been like that. I’ve never been so…high, so… Damn.”

  His lips twisted; he dropped his head and made the confession to the ceiling. “It’s never been so intense that I’ve blacked out before, okay?”

  He should have known that simple revelation, however difficult for him, would never be enough to satisfy her heretofore virginal curiosity.

  “Is that good?”

  He lifted his head, grinned and shrugged. “As far as it ranking among the most incredible experiences in my life? Yeah. Very.” Then more honestly than he intended, “And no, because it scares me to think what it might mean.”

  She leaned forward to kiss his chest, the hollow of his throat. “For what it’s worth, if it helps any, it scares me that I wanted to make love with you at all. The fact that it’s so soon after we met…” A butterfly’s caress of her lips in the center of his sternum. “Well. But I’m not backing away from this, Jeth. Whatever it is, for however long it does or doesn’t last. You should know this about me. I only back up to go around or to get a running start in order to jump over or go through. Wherever this leads, I’m going through, Jeth. All the way.”

  Something in the way she said it chilled him to the bone.

  “Not if I tell you to stop, you’re not.” His eyes glittered; the hand cupping her chin went suddenly hard. “Not if it means—”

  She peeled his fingers off her chin, gentled them by kissing his knuckles, turning his hand palm up and kissing its center. “Whatever it means, Jeth,” she assured him calmly. “Whatever. But not tonight, hey? Just be with me tonight—”

  Before the invitation was completed, Jeth pulled her up across his body and took her mouth. Roughly. Savagely.

  Gently.

  His mouth slid through the hair at the side of her face, left moist, unearthly shivers running her spine, knotting in her belly.

  “Mine,” he whispered darkly, passionately. “Just for tonight I’m going to pretend you’re mine.”

  Then he settled her in his arms and took her mouth again before she could think to protest that she’d be his for a lot longer than now.

  They lost the night to each other, to everything but the darkness, lightness, newness, rightness of this thing between them.

  He took her into the shower, wanting to bathe her with warm water, to be sure her muscles wouldn’t be sore with unaccustomed stretching in the morning—then wound up teaching her things he wasn’t aware he knew.

  She showed him the benefits keeping fit by bicycling, horseback riding, spinning wool and straddling surfboards for long hours during her studies provided them both now, taught him things he’d never thought to learn.

  The night lengthened, straining toward dawn, and still they couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Each coupling made the next more inevitable, more powerful, toppled whatever barriers existed between them.

  Trust developed, softened, then betrayed him.

  He told her things he thought he’d never tell anyone: about his family—three brothers and one remaining sister; about the case he’d been working on before Marcy died—a case that bore a marked resemblance to this one in its war over drug territory and the way he’d been sent undercover by his then lieutenant and now supervisor Jeri Fishburne. About how he hadn’t been home in three years since losing Marcy when she opened the door to someone she thought was a friend of his, someone who’d called him and threatened to kill her if Jeth didn’t do what they wanted. About how he hadn’t believed the threat because he’d been young, stupid and invincible and afterward, when he’d called home to check on h
er, Marcy was there and fine.

  About getting the message from his oldest brother less than a week later that Marcy was missing.

  About the madness that had claimed him when he knew he was to blame. About searching for her and catching the men who’d done the kidnapping, but not capturing the person who’d ordered it.

  About finding her too late.

  He told her about himself, about his need to see Sasha safe whatever the cost. He told her about growing up on the reservation in Arizona, about growing up Indian at his mother’s and his grandparents’ insistence even though his heritage was only one-quarter Supai.

  He spooned himself into her back and told her about his parents, still together after nearly thirty-five years; about the fact that regardless of what tonight felt like he could not guarantee anything even remotely similar to Allyn. Then he kissed the knuckles of her ring finger, laved its pad and sucked it into his mouth, matched his ring to hers, dipped his mouth into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, drew her hips tight against him and made love to her again as if the world might stop or end before he was through.

  The night lasted a minute and it lasted forever.

  At dawn they breakfasted on the remains of their supper, then made slow, peaceful love and fell asleep, pillowed together, legs entangled, exhausted but secure, holding only to the moment.

  They were both uncomfortable when they awakened in late morning: Allyn more physically than emotionally, and Jeth more emotionally than physically—although even he experienced twinges in places he hadn’t realized could twinge. But such, he decided, was the price that better than a year of celibacy exacted on a man.

  Then he looked at Allyn, smiling sleepily at him, and didn’t regret either the year or the twinges in the least.

  Found he was actually profoundly glad of both.

  Which scared him badly, but not badly enough to allow him to stay away from her even now that daylight had come.

  It took a while full of wincing, husky laughter, and making sure they each kissed away the other’s pains in all the parts that ached, but they finally managed to shower and dress, bring the newness of their discovery of each other to hand enough to leave the cabin.

  Even then, though, Jeth found he could not stop himself from touching, could not keep himself from spooning behind her, could not prevent his mouth from finding the spot below her ear and just left of the nape of her neck that made her catch her breath, sigh and sink into him as though no one else could possibly exist in her world at the moment.

  Could not inhibit himself from dragging her into convenient shadows and getting drugged all over again on her kisses, her response to his sly though only marginally indecent touches—nor his response to hers.

  It was as though they shared a secret, imperfectly kept, visible to anyone who looked at them but unique, as well, solely their own. They didn’t quite forget Sasha, but they didn’t concentrate on him entirely, either; he was part of the bargain they’d made and kept; he was part of them, this thing between them, this lie, this relationship—the reason for it.

  Knowing this, they tickled him and cuddled him and thanked him for it whenever they saw him, which wasn’t often that morning. Sasha was far too busy playing with his new cousins to have time for his equally new parents, and that was fine for the moment.

  Although in some dark and deliberately tamped-down part of himself, Jeth worried about the growing affection he saw developing between Allyn and the little boy—and heck, between himself and Sasha, as well. That tenebrous and cynical place in him understood the disadvantages of personal involvement, niggled him with doubts that said, Come on, boy, admit it, you’ve got to cut this out, you’re screwing up.

  Because it felt too good just to be Allyn’s lover, Sasha’s makeshift papa for this little while, though, he ignored the nagging of his conscience and threw himself with will into the role he portrayed but no longer had to pretend to play.

  The barely contained desire sizzling hot and hotter between him and Allyn worked to his advantage with her family, making him look like what he assured himself he was not: a man gone heels over head over his new bride.

  For one thing, he reminded himself, Allyn wasn’t his bride.

  For another, being thoroughly wrapped up in her was bad for Sasha’s protection.

  He found himself wrapped up in her anyway and couldn’t bring himself to let go even when he realized he might be drowning.

  Even upon discovering and rediscovering that if he could barely maintain decency with her in public, in private he was lost, wrapped as tightly in her web as she was in his—in this thing they created together.

  He forgot everything.

  He became wholly himself for the first time in his life.

  He maintained the lie, but threw caution to the winds and made himself temporarily comfortable in Allyn’s family’s world.

  He just had to keep reminding himself it must be temporary, is all.

  Sasha was returned to Jeth and Allyn over a lunch filled with knowing glances and grins, a tight-lipped stepfather and head-shaking mother.

  The toddler’s English vocabulary had grown in leaps and bounds overnight.

  Though moderately pleased to see Jeth and Allyn, Sasha was in no hurry to leave his newfound aunts and cousins behind when it came time for him to have a nap. Jeth, on the other hand, found himself most anxious to take both the little guy and Allyn to the cabin for a nap—although he very much doubted he and Allyn would get any sleep.

  The very thought of not getting any sleep with Allyn made his groin tighten with anticipation. The smoldering look she sent him when she plucked Sasha up and headed toward the woods where their cabin lay made him want to pluck her up and head for the nearest private bower and have his way with her.

  And vice versa.

  It was insane, it was merciless, it was the hunger of a lifetime of starvation, a belly that had to be fed and fatted while the harvest was plentiful to live off when the time was lean.

  And it was not to be.

  The tensions that had been idling between Becky and Michael since Becky’s seven-year itch had set in about the same time as Allyn’s graduation erupted in the middle of their path to the cabin, putting paid to all manner of sensual feast Allyn and Jeth might have shared after Sasha went to sleep.

  As a law officer, Jeth knew better than to interfere in the petty bickerings between a man and his wife; he would have ignored the situation completely unless violence threatened—which it didn’t. Far from it, in fact, Michael was attempting to console and cajole his agitated wife, who clutched their two-year-old to her chest and sobbed into the little man’s T-shirt, muttering incoherent something-or-others at her distressed husband while their four-year-old clung to her leg. Which meant that other than to reluctantly wonder whether or not he and Allyn ought to collect Becky and Michael’s youngsters and leave the adults to sort things out, he planned to walk on by—or actually, give the couple a wide berth for the sake of privacy.

  That is, he would have if Allyn hadn’t suddenly stopped short in the path before she even saw her sister and brother-in-law, clasped Sasha tight to her chest, covered his ears, then blistered Jeth’s with an impolite version of, “Men are pigs!”, before bursting into tears and tearing off up the path to collide with Michael.

  To make matters worse—or at least more confusing—when she saw Becky crying and clutching her youngest, Allyn sobbed an under her breath oath of, “Oh, for the love of Silly Putty,” swung about and handed Sasha to Jeth with a teary, “Don’t ask, I’ll explain later,” snatched Becky’s kids into Michael’s waiting arms and dragged her sister off in the direction of peace, quiet and temporary childlessness.

  Taken aback, Jeth and Michael eyed each other.

  “Well,” Michael said uncertainly, “I guess that’s that.”

  “And that would be?” Jeth asked warily.

  “A twin thing?”

  “Okay,” Jeth said. “If you say so.” Then, “What twi
n thing?”

  Michael shrugged. “They experience the same things at the same times once in a while. Allyn always seemed to be more in tune with Becky than the other way around, but lately, I dunno. Something’s going on. Last night…” Still looking worriedly after his wife, Michael nonetheless grinned suddenly. “Last night was interesting. I have a feeling I owe you thanks, man. But today…” He shook his head. “Whoa.”

  Jeth nodded, ignoring what he had no intention of dignifying with reference to last night. He didn’t want to know. And if he needed to know, Allyn would, he was certain, for better or worse, fill him in later.

  “Let’s get these guys down for their naps,” he suggested neutrally. “Let Allyn handle it. Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”

  “I hope somebody does,” Michael said softly. “I have the feeling Beck’s getting ready to leave me, and I don’t know why. I don’t want to lose my wife.”

  And that was how, against his better judgment and his druthers, and silently calling himself seventeen kinds of fool, Jeth wound up in the Catton cabin watching Michael pace and listening to him talk while Sasha and the two youngest Cattons napped.

  “I thought we made a pact,” Allyn sniffled to her sister without preamble when they were sufficiently beyond ear-shot of men and children. “You stay out of my psyche, I’ll stay out of yours.”

  “I don’t want to be in your psyche,” Becky lamented, dabbing away tears with the edge of a forefinger. “It was an accident. Besides, you’ve been leaking all over me for months with your, ‘I don’t think I want to really do this, be this,’ rubbish. I just didn’t know it until last night. I mean really, Lyn, if you don’t want to be who you are, who’re you going to be?”

  “I’m sure as heck not going to be you!” Allyn said flatly.

  “Then why’d you find the first hot stud who came along and marry him and his kid three minutes after getting your doctorate?” Becky asked. “If that’s not being me, I don’t know what is.”