The Color of Hope (The Color of Heaven Series) (12 page)

We drove up Friday after work, enjoyed a steak dinner at the inn with a delicious Cabernet, then went for a walk down on the beach.

Rick never looked more handsome to me. He wore linen pants and a loose, white shirt, while I wore a flowing Indian cotton skirt and black tank top. As soon as we stepped onto the sand, I kicked off my flip flops to feel the soft, cool grains of sand between my toes. A half moon hung low over the water, luminescent as it reflected off the foamy, crashing waves.

“How perfect is this?” I said, reveling in the warmth of his hand around mine.

We walked for quite a distance and discussed some of his frustrations at work, and his desire to open his own agency. I was supportive, because I wanted him to be happy, and I wanted to be a part of his future.

Soon we entered a private cove beyond some large boulders, and sat down to look out at the dark, sparkling sea.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. “Why doesn’t it smell like this everywhere?” I asked. “That clean salty fragrance... It’s like a drug.”

“
You’re
like a drug,” he replied, and when I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with heated desire.

His lips touched mine and I slid my fingers through his hair, pulling him close, enjoying the rough bristle on his chin as it rubbed against mine. His tongue probed softly with skillful, caressing strokes, and I let out a soft sigh. I wanted him desperately, and felt my body tremble as his hand slid over my hip and he eased me onto my back.

The sound of the ocean pulsing up onto the shore lulled me into a dreamlike state, and when he rolled on top of me, I wrapped my legs around his hips and clung to him with a yearning that made me forget everything outside of that moment.

His hand roved down over the top of my thigh, and I shivered when he gathered the fabric of my skirt and began to tug it upward.

“Not here,” I whispered. “Let’s go back to the room.”

“Why not here?” he asked.

“Because someone might see us.”

He lifted his head and scanned the perimeter of the secluded cove. “There’s no one else here. It’s completely private.”

His mouth brushed lazily across my cheek, over my jawline, down the length of my neck.

I wanted him, truly I did, but I also wanted this to be special.

“Let’s go back to the room,” I whispered breathlessly. “I have champagne and chocolates waiting for us.”

His head drew back, and he smiled at me. “Were you
planning
to seduce me?”

I playfully puckered my lips. “I can’t tell a lie. I lured you here for one purpose, and one purpose alone.”

Rick sat back on his heels and raked his fingers through his hair. “If this is part of your grand plan to make me all hot and bothered, then play hard to get, you’re doing a great job.”

I sat up as well and grinned at him mischievously. “It’s better when you have to wait for it.”

“I can’t argue.” He stood up and offered his hand. “Those chocolates better be damn good.”

“They’ll be fabulous,” I promised, and with teasing laughter, I let him chase me back to the inn, where I fully intended to make him glad he waited – and hopefully then, we’d put a seal on our future together.

W
E DEVOURED THE
chocolate truffles, then made love on the bed. When we woke the next morning to the sun streaming in through the pale cream curtains, and the soothing sound of the waves crashing up onto the beach, we made love again.

Afterward, Rick tossed the covers aside and moved across the room to open the window. Then he returned and slipped back into bed beside me. I entwined my body around his and kissed his neck.

“This is nice,” I said. “We needed some time alone together. It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, it has.”

Resting my cheek on his shoulder, I stroked a finger across his chest.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I leaned up on an elbow. “You know I’ll be turning twenty-eight next year...” I hesitated.

He had been rubbing the pad of his thumb lightly over my shoulder. He stilled but made no comment. Suddenly I wished I could backpeddle and say simply, “Let’s get some breakfast,” but I was already into it, so I soldiered on.

“I’d like to talk about the future,” I said.

I felt the steady stroke of his thumb slow to a halt. “What about it?”

“Well... We’ve been together for a while, and there are certain things I want out of life.”

“Such as?”

Again, I hesitated. This wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. “I want to get married eventually, and have a family. Don’t you want that, too?”

His eyes clouded over. “You know I love you, Di,” he said, “but I don’t want that right now.”

I swallowed uncomfortably. “I’m not talking about right now, this minute. But someday... I’d like to know how you feel about that.”

In all honesty, I would have welcomed a pregnancy that night if he was keen. But I knew this was a big step, and I was willing to give him time to ease into it, because I believed he was worth the wait.

Of course, an engagement ring would be nice before we took that leap.

Rick sat up and swung his legs off the bed. My heart began to pound as I stared at his smooth, muscular back.
What was he thinking?
I had no idea.
Had I pushed too hard? Was my timing all wrong?

He rose to his feet, padded to the washroom, and closed the door behind him.

I flopped back down onto the bed and wanted to sink through the mattress while I waited for him to come out. Then I heard the shower come on.

Feeling frustrated, and a bit insulted, I rose from the bed, went to the closet, and slipped into the cozy white bathrobe with the name of the inn embroidered on the breast pocket.

I buried my hands into the deep pockets and went out onto our private balcony that overlooked the sea. Everything was blue.

At last the door to the bathroom opened, and Rick emerged in a towel. He joined me on the veranda, slid his arm around my waist, and kissed me on the temple.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is supposed to be a romantic weekend. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Of course not,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I just wanted to be alone with you. I didn’t mean to spoil it, or put pressure on you. We have time to figure things out.”

I spoke casually, then I kissed him on the mouth, but it was all pretence. I
did
want to put pressure on Rick.

I wanted children. I could feel my biological clock ticking like a hammer. I wanted a ring on my finger as soon as possible so we could get started with the rest of our lives.

I’d always been ambitious. I was always climbing, eager to reach another summit.

In this case, that drive turned out to be my undoing.

“
W
HOSE TURN IS
it to deal?” I asked as I gathered up the cards in the center of the table. It was a Saturday night. Rick and I had invited two of his colleagues and their wives over for dinner so they could discuss the possibility of leaving the firm to strike out, as partners, on their own.

By the time we polished off the last of the chocolate cheesecake, the ladies decided it was time for the guys to stop talking business and have some fun. We settled into a friendly game of Scat, gambling for quarters.

“It’s my turn,” Jennie said, and I passed her the deck.

She started shuffling when a call came in from the security entrance. My eyes lifted to meet Rick’s. “Are you expecting anyone?”

He shook his head and rose from the table. “I’ll see who it is.”

“Hello.” He paused. “Yeah, sure, come on up.” He pressed the button to buzz someone into the building and returned to his chair. “It’s Nadia. She’s on her way up.”

“I thought she had a baby shower to go to,” I replied, which was why I specifically chose that night to host our dinner party, so that we could have some time alone with our friends.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being with Nadia, but sometimes it came as a relief not to worry about whether she was feeling comfortable with my friends, or having a good time.

“It must have ended early,” he said.

I picked up the three cards that were dealt to me and rearranged them by suit in my hand. Everyone took their turn picking up and laying down a card, and we made it once around the table when a knock sounded at the door.

“I’ll let her in.” Rick stood.

We continued playing that hand, and when Nadia entered, she said, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

I called out to her over my shoulder. “We’re playing Scat. Do you have any quarters?”

She approached the table and shrugged out of her jean jacket. “I might have a few. Who’s winning?”

“No one yet,” Rick replied. “We just started this round, so feel free to jump in.” He went to get an extra chair and placed it beside his.

Greg knocked on the table to indicate he was ready to lay down his cards, Rick whistled, and Jennie ended up losing that hand. She tossed a quarter into the bowl, and I scooped up the cards to shuffle them again.

“How was the shower?” I asked Nadia.

“Fun,” she replied. “The food was great, and I loved seeing all those cute little baby outfits.”

“Aw... Did it make you want one?” Jennie asked.

I glanced discreetly across at Rick, and wondered how he would react to a conversation about babies.

He was difficult to read. Slouched back in his chair, he tapped a finger on the table while he waited for the cards to be dealt.

“Not in the least,” Nadia replied with a surprising hint of disgust. “I don’t think I’m the mothering type.”

Rick – suddenly interested in the conversation – sat forward and turned toward her. “What are you talking about? You’d make a great mom.”

Nadia shook her head and rolled her eyes. I could see she was embarrassed by the compliment.

“Of course you would,” I added.

She pointed at Rick and me. “No thank you. Making babies will be
your
job. I’ll just be the fun single auntie who’s a terrible influence in the teen years.”

Everyone laughed. Everyone except for me, because I was busy dealing the cards and keeping an eye on my boyfriend, whose gorgeous, magnetic smile was directed at my twin.

“
W
HAT DO YOU
think about Rick?” I asked Nadia, after we placed our lunch orders at our usual weekday meeting place.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I leaned back in my chair and wondered if I should even bring this up. Maybe it was a mistake. I wasn’t sure where it would lead.

“Do you ever feel like he’s
too
charming?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He’s good looking; no one can deny that.”

“I’m not talking about his looks. I’m talking about whether or not I can trust him. You know how I want to have a family someday...”

“Of course.”

Nadia and I had talked about it more than once.

“The problem is...” I said, “I’m not sure he wants the same thing, and it worries me.”

She picked up her glass of water and took a sip. “What does that have to do with him being charming?”

I shrugged, and looked the other way toward the lunch counter. After a long pause, I met her eyes and said, “Do you ever feel like he’s flirting with you?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, my God, no. Why would you ask that?”

I felt suddenly guilty for suggesting something that sounded like an accusation.

Why did I always feel guilty around Nadia?

I leaned forward and touched her arm. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. I just think...” I paused. “I’m not sure if he’s a true family man, you know? I worry that he might have a wandering eye.”

She shook her head at me. “That’s crazy. He’s totally in love with you, and you’re the luckiest woman in the universe. He’s nice to me because he feels sorry for me. He tries to make me feel welcome. Just like you do. I don’t feel like he’s flirting. Do you think he flirts with other women?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure they must try to flirt with
him
. That’s the problem with having a gorgeous boyfriend. Lots of temptations.”

“Do you have any reason to suspect him of anything?” she asked. “Any proof?”

Now I was sounding like one of my distraught clients. “No, and I’m probably being ridiculous. I just thought maybe, by now, we might be talking about marriage, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere close to that.”

“Give him time,” she suggested. “Guys usually need to be eased gradually into these things. Not that I’m any great expert, but I do watch
Dr. Phil
.”

Our salads arrived, and I promised myself I would try to lighten up about the whole marriage and baby thing. Nadia was right. I was only twenty-seven. There was still plenty of time.

Despite my resolve to be optimistic and easygoing, I couldn’t seem to let go of my doubts about Rick’s commitment to our relationship.

One night, while driving home from a Lakers game, I turned in the passenger seat to face him. “What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?”