A Love for All Time (10 page)

When she emerged from the bathroom, Dan was coming in the door. He paused and grinned at her, then unfastened his belt and stuffed his knit shirt neatly into the waistband of his Levi’s. His torso showed to advantage in the blue knit pullover with the alligator on the pocket. His head was wet and his cheeks smooth. He was a fast dresser for he had accomplished all of this during the time it had taken her to shower, dress, apply makeup, and stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Casey was totally unaware of the arresting picture she made. Her jeans hugged her tall, curving figure and the green plaid shirt was perfect with her gold hair and eyes. Dan appraised her admiringly, making her aware of her unrestrained breasts beneath the soft cotton shirt. Her fingers went to the top buttons to reassure herself they were closed. She hadn’t worn a bra since the accident.

“Are you a dieting woman who merely sips a little coffee for breakfast?” His eyes teased her.

“Sorry to disappoint you. I favor a hardy breakfast.”

“Good girl,” he said for the second time that morning. “C’mon. I know a place that serves a fantastic
breakfast—ham, baking powder biscuits, and gravy.”

“Gravy? For breakfast?”

“C’mon. You’ll like it.”

“What’s the weather like?”

“Better take a jacket or a sweater. There’s a stiff breeze blowing this morning.”

Casey paused to tie the scarf around her head and grab a wrap.

Dan took the keys and they left the cabin. The car he led her to was, after she had time to think about it, ideally suited to him. It was a big car for a big man. Somehow she couldn’t picture him crawling into a sports car just inches off the ground and folding himself into a bucket seat. The seats in the car were wide and covered with soft cream leather. It was definitely more luxurious than flamboyant.

“You’ve been here before?” Casey asked when he turned the car out onto the highway and headed south.

“Many times. I used to dive for abalone around here. My brothers and I would come here several times a year during the season. Ever done any scuba diving?”

“No. But I always thought I’d like to.” She wanted to ask him more about his brothers, but before she could think of a way to phrase the question, he told her.

“My brothers have been like two fathers to me since my dad died when I was fourteen. One of
them is twelve years older and the other fourteen years older than me. I think I was a happening that my parents didn’t expect.” He turned and grinned at her. “I was spoiled to a certain extent, but they worked the hell out of me, too. The three of us operate the business, but as I’m the only single one I usually have to do the away from home stuff. I’ve a feeling that’s going to come to a screeching halt.”

Casey quickly passed over the meaning of his words and asked a question to cover her distraction.

“Do they have children?”

“Do they have children? I figure Hank’s wife has been pregnant more than five years of the sixteen they’ve been married. They have seven. Fred has only five.”

“You don’t like kids?” Casey asked with an odd inflection in her voice.

“Sure. What ever gave you that idea? I want a whole parcel. I’ve already got the house, the dog, and the station wagon.” He shot her a wicked sidelong glance that intimated he expected a response.

“Well … you didn’t sound as if you approved of your brothers’ large families,” she said lamely.

“I had to grow up by myself. I’d never wish that on another kid.” He wheeled the car into the parking lot of a long low building, shut the motor off, and turned to look at her. “You were an only child. Wouldn’t you rather have had brothers and sisters?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “An only child has to bear all the responsibility for a sick mother or an
errant father. I would have loved to have had a brother or a sister to share that responsibility.”

He reached for the hand she had wrapped in the sweater she held in her lap. “I don’t think you’ll need this yet.” He laid the wrap on the back of the seat. “You make me ashamed for complaining about my younger years. At least I had my brothers and then their wives and kids.”

Casey pulled her hand away and turned to look out the car window. His sympathy made her feel weak and teary.

“Are we going to eat or not?” She licked her dry lips, regretting she had revealed so much about herself. With nervous fingers she smoothed the hair down over her forehead and lightly touched the scarf to make sure it was over her ears.

After breakfast they drove into Newport, parked the car, and walked the length of the business district, peering into shop windows and looking over the assortment of souvenirs. Casey stopped to peer through the door of a small empty shop. She took her hand from Dan’s to cup it around her eyes so she could see inside the empty room. It was paneled with rough wood and the floor was made from wide planks, varnished and waxed. She could easily visualize her shop in such a room as this. Then she looked at the “for sale” sign in the window and knew this place would be out of the question for her.

“Are you planning on opening a fish and bait shop?” Dan teased.

“Fish and bait? Ugh!” He had taken her hand again, and she laughed up at him and suddenly decided that, whatever came later for her, she was going to enjoy this day. She felt unable to deny herself the excitement of being with him in this little rustic resort town. The future would have to take care of itself. “I want to open a shop and sell handmade garments.” As they walked slowly down the sidewalk she found herself telling him her ideas for making the clothes during the winter months so she would have an inventory ready for spring. He listened intently.

“You sew that well? Do you make men’s shirts?”

“I never have, but I could. I make all my knit pullovers.”

“I can’t get a shirt that’s wide enough in the shoulders that doesn’t swallow me around the waist, and usually they aren’t long enough to tuck into low-slung jeans.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem. Take away a little here, add a little there. I’ll use you as a model. Better yet, a walking billboard. I’ll make a shirt and put a sign on the back and you can stand out in front of the shop.”

He chuckled and she caught the devilish glint in the depths of his eyes. “Like a wooden Indian, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Did you make that shirt?”

“Uh-huh. The jeans, too.”

He stopped and turned her around. “You’re kidding!” He ran his hand down over her hips, then tucked his fingers into the hip pocket. “You’ve even got a label, CASEY. I’ve picked myself
some
woman!” Then, as if talking to himself, he added, “She’s not only beautiful, but independent, witty, talented, and ambitious.”

Casey’s face froze and the smile left her eyes. Dan sensed immediately he had said something wrong. “What is it? What did I say to take that happy look off your face?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” She started to walk down the street, her hands deep in the side pockets of her jeans, more conscious of the scar on her face than she had been all morning. At the car she waited for him to unlock the door.

Without saying a word he started the motor, turned the car into the stream of traffic, and headed up the coast. They had driven only a short way when he turned down a sandy road toward the beach and pulled to a stop. The Pacific Ocean spread out before them.

“I want to know what turned you off.” His hands gripped the wheel and his domineering eyes gleamed through narrowed lids.

“I despise insincere flattery,” she said icily.

“Insincere? I meant every word I said,” he gritted in an equally intense tone.

“Liar!” she spat. “I’ve heard my father spout similar lines!”

“Don’t ever compare me to Edward Farrow! Or to any other man.” Casey could see that he was furious and found herself unable to move as his hands shot out and gripped her shoulders. “I think I know what’s in that head of yours.” His smoldering look was pinning her to the seat. Her hands clenched together tightly in her lap.

“Stop trying to run my life for me. You have no right—”

“I have a right and you know it whether you admit it to yourself or not. The trouble with you is you’re
too
damned proud. I wouldn’t go so far as to call you vain, but close to it, Casey. Close.”

“I’m not!” she spat. “Stop analyzing me.”

“You’re afraid for me to see what’s under that beautiful veneer,” he snapped. “You’ve been brainwashed by all that feminist propaganda that says it’s wrong for a woman to want to merge
her
life with that of a man, share
his
dreams,
his
ambitions, marry and have children. In fact it’s the most natural and right thing for a woman to do—along with a lot of other things.” He paused and she heard his breath hiss between his teeth. “You’re ashamed to admit that it was a comfort to know I was taking care of you in the hospital. You think it’s a weakness to depend on me. You’ve been on your own for so long you’re afraid of commitment, especially now that you think your appearance isn’t what it was before the accident.”

“I know it isn’t, and I can live with it. What I don’t have to live with is someone saying stupid—”

Dan’s mouth, hard and commanding, fastened on her mobile lips, stealing her breath away and swallowing her words. There was nothing gentle about his kiss. He was using his mouth as a means of shutting hers. Casey twisted her head from side to side, but she didn’t push against him to free herself. She let his warmth seep into her; she luxuriated in his strength, finding all the comfort and support she could ever want.

The pounding of her heart made her realize that his lips had softened, and that she was cradled in his arms. With a drowning feeling she attempted to push him away. He seemed to be totally unaware of her efforts and merely pulled her closer. Her lips were irresistibly forced apart until the warmth of his mouth made her give up the struggle and her arms slipped up about his neck.

Her surrender seemed to trigger a deeper need in him and the quality of his kiss exploded into a persuasive, sensuous, passionate demand that caused something warm and powerful to throb in the area below her stomach. Fear that she was losing control brought her back to reality.

“Dan, please don’t!” she begged when his lips freed her mouth to rest on her cheek.

“Don’t say those things to me ever again, Casey.” His voice was a deep rumble. He moved his face so that he could look at her. Her eyes were damp and wide and her mouth puffy and trembling. “There’s more to you than a pretty face. It’s an old cliché, but true when applied to you.” His
mouth was still set stubbornly and Casey’s eyes riveted on it. “I like the way you hold your head, your slender neck. I like your wiry, tight body, your height, the way your hair shines. Most of all I like your eyes that reflect all your emotions. And your mouth. I have never kissed a sweeter mouth.” His lips sipped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. “What I don’t like is surliness and dishonesty,” he said firmly and softened his words with a gentle kiss.

“I don’t understand you,” she whispered. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“I don’t understand me either. I just know I’m miserable when I’m away from you. I worry that you’ll need me and I won’t be there. I’m happiest when I’m with you. I knew that the first night in the hospital,” he said with great certainty. “I’ve been honest with you about that.”

“You couldn’t have made up your mind that fast.”

“I did,” he said, smiling at her. “Can’t we just leave it at that and see what happens?”

She nodded. His words had brought her a delicious breathlessness. This can’t last, she told herself sternly. Her mind clicked into gear while she searched his dark eyes, now tender and teasing. As long as she recognized the danger of being terribly hurt at some later date, she might as well give herself up to this reckless, dreamlike interlude.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I called you a liar.”

“Are you sure?” he asked lightly as he wrapped her in his arms. She cuddled willingly and raised her lips. He kissed her long and tenderly. “C’mon, let’s walk on the beach.”

They walked for hours along the stony beach, picking up and discarding shells and other treasures the waves had cast up during the night. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they merely shared companionable silence, the sun falling warm and golden on their skin. When Dan thought she was tiring he found a spot protected from the northwest wind by a giant boulder. For a long while they lay on the fine sand sharing confidences, opinions, experiences.

I’m a Democrat. Are you? I don’t care much for Country Western music, but I do like Kenny Rogers. I don’t like the food in Mexico, but I like it Texas style. I’ve seen Swan Lake. Me, too. Did you get the drift of the story? Sure. I guess I was too busy watching to see if someone fell off their toes. Oh, you
…

Sometimes there were short periods of silence, and always some part of Dan was touching her—his hand, his shoulder, his thigh. It was almost as if he couldn’t bear not touching her.

Only one thing happened to mar the tranquility of the day. Casey lay dozing. Dan, leaning on one elbow, explored her throat with his mouth. His fingers found the nipple on her breast and teased it to hardness through the thin cotton of her shirt.

“No bra,” he whispered into her ear. “Hummmm … I like that.” His mouth moved down and his lips
replaced fingers that began working on the buttons of her shirt.

The alarm in her brain overcame the delicious feeling of his mouth tugging at the erect bud. She panicked and her hand grabbed his.

“No, Dan! Don’t!”

His fingers stopped immediately and he rolled over on his back, away from her. A rush of misery, an overwhelming sense of loss, welled up inside her. She inhaled deeply, knowing she had denied herself the tactile pleasure of being caressed by his strong, male hands. She wanted to take the sharp words back and replace them with
Please, I can’t stand for you to see my ugly body
. She didn’t know what to do, so she just lay there, doing nothing. The sun went behind a cloud and stayed there. Casey shivered, suddenly cold. Her groping fingers reached for his hand, wanting his body warmth. He didn’t push her away and when he opened his arms she rolled into them, her mouth open against his neck.