Best Kept Secrets

"Because I swore that if he did, I'd kill him."

 

An emotion zephyred between them. It was so strong it

 

knocked the breath out of her and made her chest ache. She

 

uttered an involuntary, wordless sound. Her fingers momentarily

 

relaxed in the cloth of his shirt, only to grip it tighter

 

and draw him nearer. Her back arched off the bed again, not

 

in an attempt to throw him off, but to get closer.

 

He sank his fingers into her hair, tilted his dark-blond head,

 

and pressed his open mouth against hers. Her lips were parted

 

and damp and receptive. He sent his tongue deep into her

 

mouth.

 

Frantically, she worked her arms out of her coat sleeves

 

and locked them around the back of his neck. He raised his

 

head suddenly and looked down at her. There were dark

 

shadows from weeping beneath her eyes, but the blue irises

 

were crystal clear as they steadily gazed back at him. She

 

knew exactly what she was doing. That's all he needed to

 

know.

 

He ran his thumb over her lips, which were moist and

 

swollen from his hard kiss. All he could think about was

 

kissing her again, harder, and he did.

 

Her throat was arched and vulnerable to his lips when they

 

left hers. He drew her skin lightly against his teeth, then

 

soothed it with whisks of his tongue. He nuzzled her ear and

 

the base of her neck, and when her clothing got in his way,

 

he pulled her to a sitting position and peeled her sweater over

 

her head.

 

As they lay back down, their breathing was loud and uneven,

 

the only sound in the room. He unclasped her bra and

 

pushed the cups aside.

 

His fingers skimmed over her flesh, which was warm and

 

flushed with arousal. He cupped one breast, pushed it up,

 

and took the center between his lips. He sucked it with enough

 

pressure to elicit a tingle in her womb, but with enough finesse

 

to tantalize. When the nipple drew taut, he nicked it roughly

 

with the tip of his tongue.

 

Alex cried his name in panic and joy. He buried his face

 

between her breasts and held her close while he rolled her

 

 

 

above him and fought his way out of his jacket at the same

 

time. She began tearing free the buttons of his shirt. He

 

unzipped and unbuttoned her skirt, then shoved it down over

 

her hips, taking her half-slip along with it. Alex ran her fingers

 

through the thick pelt of hair on his chest, dropped random

 

kisses on his supple muscles, and rubbed her cheek against

 

his distended nipple.

 

They reversed positions again. She managed to get off her

 

shoes and stockings before he stretched out on top of her.

 

He placed his hand low on her belly and slid it down into

 

her underpants.

 

His hand covered her mound completely and possessively.

 

With his thumb, he parted the lips of her sex and exposed

 

the tight, responsive kernel of flesh. His fingertips dipped

 

into her creaminess and anointed that tiny nub with the dew

 

of her own desire.

 

When she moaned her pleasure, he bent his head and kissed

 

her stomach. Removing her panties, he nuzzled the fiery dark

 

curls between her thighs and touched her with his open mouth.

 

Clumsily, he undid his fly and, taking her hand, pressed

 

it against his erection. He hissed a curse when her fist closed

 

tightly around him. Nudging her thighs apart, he settled himself

 

between them.

 

The smooth tip of his penis slipped between the folds of

 

her body. He covered her breasts with his hands and lightly

 

ground the raised centers with his palms. He gave a steady,

 

smooth thrust of his hips that should have planted him firmly

 

inside her.

 

It didn't.

 

He readjusted his hips slightly and tried again, encountering

 

the same resistance. Levering himself up, he stared at her

 

with disbelief. "You mean . . . ?"

 

Her breath was choppy, and her eyes fluttered in an effort

 

to stay focused on him. She was making small yearning noises

 

in her throat. Her hands moved restlessly, searchingly, over

 

his chest and neck and cheeks. Her fingertips glanced his

 

lips.

 

The utter sexiness of all that and the satiny heat that was

 

 

 

gloving him so tightly were his undoing. He applied more

 

pressure and sank into her completely. Her ragged sigh of

 

surprise and discovery was the most erotic sound he'd ever

 

heard. It inflamed him.

 

"Christ," he groaned. "Oh, Christ."

 

Mating instincts took over and he moved his hips against

 

hers with the ancient compulsion to possess and fill. Sandwiching

 

her head between his hands, he kissed her mouth

 

with rampant carnality. His climax was an avalanche of sensation.

 

It was soul-shuddering. It seemed to go on forever

 

. . . and it still wasn't long enough.

 

Several minutes elapsed before he roused himself enough

 

to disengage. He didn't want to, but when he gazed down at

 

her, any thoughts of prolonging their coupling fled.

 

She was lying with her head turned away, one cheek on

 

the pillow. She looked fragile and haunted. Looking down

 

at the faint pulse in her throat, seeing the bruise his kiss had

 

branded there, Reede felt like a rapist. Filled with regret and

 

self-loathing, he worked his fingers free of the snare of her

 

hair.

 

They both reacted violently to the knock on the door. Alex

 

quickly reached for the rumpled bedspread and pulled it over

 

herself. Reede's feet landed hard on the floor. He hiked his

 

jeans up over his hips.

 

"Reede, you in there?"

 

"Yeah," he called through the door.

 

"I, uh, I got Ms. Gaither's keys here. Remember, you

 

told me to--"

 

The deputy broke off when Reede opened the door. "I

 

remember." He extended his hand through the crack and the

 

deputy dropped the keys into them. "Thanks," he said

 

tersely, and closed the door.

 

He tossed the keys on the round table in front of the window.

 

The clatter they made when they landed on the wood

 

veneer was as loud as a cymbal's crash. Reede bent down to

 

retrieve his shirt and jacket, which he'd slung over the side

 

of the bed at some point that escaped his memory now. As

 

he pulled them on, he spoke to Alex over his shoulder.

 

 

 

"I know you're hating yourself right now, but it might

 

make you feel better to know that I wish it hadn't happened

 

either."

 

She turned her head and gave him a long, searching look.

 

She looked for compassion, tenderness, love. His features

 

remained impassive, his eyes those of a stranger. There was

 

no softness or feeling in his remote gaze. He seemed untouched

 

and untouchable.

 

Alex swallowed hard, burying her hurt. In retaliation for

 

his aloofness, she said, "Well, we're even now, Sheriff. You

 

saved my life before I was born." She paused, then added

 

huskily, "And I just gave you what you always wanted, but

 

never got, from my mother."

 

Reede curled his hands into fists, as though he wanted to

 

strike her. Then, with jerky, disjointed motions, he finished

 

dressing. At the open door, he turned back. "Whatever your

 

reason for doing it, thanks. For a virgin, you were a fairly

 

good fuck."

 

 

 

Thirty-six

 

 

 

Junior slid into the orange vinyl booth of the Westerner Motel's

 

coffee shop. His engaging smile collapsed the instant

 

he saw Alex's face. "Darling, are you sick?"

 

She smiled wanly. "No. Coffee?" she asked, signaling

 

the waitress.

 

' 'Please,'' he told her distractedly. When the waitress tried

 

to hand him a large, plastic menu, he waved it off. "Just

 

coffee."

 

After she had poured him a cup, he leaned across the table

 

and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I was real tickled to

 

 

 

hear from you this morning, but something is obviously very

 

wrong. You're as pale as a sheet."

 

"You ought to see me without the sunglasses.'' She bobbed

 

them up and down in an attempt at humor that fell flat.

 

"What's the matter?"

 

She leaned back against the bright vinyl and turned her

 

head to gaze through the tinted window. It was bright outside;

 

her sunglasses wouldn't appear out of place. That about exhausted

 

the merits of this day. "Reede told me about Celina's

 

attempted abortion."

 

At first, Junior said nothing. Then, he cursed expansively

 

beneath his breath. He sipped his coffee, started to say something

 

he thought better of, and finally, shook his head in

 

apparent disgust. "What the hell's wrong with him? Why'd

 

he tell you about that?"

 

"So, it's true?"

 

He lowered his head and stared into his coffee. "She was

 

only seventeen, Alex, and pregnant by a guy she didn't even

 

love, a guy on his way to Saigon. She was scared. She--"

 

"I know the pertinent facts, Junior," she interrupted impatiently.

 

"Why do you always defend her?"

 

"Habit, I guess."

 

Alex, ashamed of her outburst, took a moment to compose

 

herself. "I know why she did it. It's just incomprehensible

 

to me that she could."

 

"To us, too," he admitted reluctantly.

 

"Us?"

 

"To Reede and me. He gave her only two days to recover

 

before he and I flew her back to El Paso to take care of it."

 

He sipped his coffee. "We met out at the airstrip, right after

 

sunset."

 

Alex had asked Reede if he'd ever taken Celina flying at

 

night. "Once," he had told her. Celina had been scared, he'd

 

said. "He stole a plane?"

 

"Borrowed is what he called it. I think Moe knew what

 

Reede was up to, but he looked the other way. We landed

 

in El Paso, rented a car, and drove to the army base. Reede

 

 

 

bribed the guards into telling Al Gaither that he had relatives

 

waiting to see him. He was off duty, I guess. Anyway, he

 

came to the gate and we, uh, talked him into getting in the

 

car with us."

 

"What happened?"

 

He looked at her, shamefaced. ' 'We took him to a deserted

 

spot and beat the shit out of him. I was afraid Reede was

 

going to kill him. He probably would have, if Celina hadn't

 

been there. She was practically hysterical."

 

"You coerced him into marrying her?"

 

"That same night. We drove across the border into

 

Mexico." He shook his head wryly at the memory of it.

 

"Gaither was barely conscious enough to recite his vows.

 

Reede and I supported him between us through the ceremony,

 

then dumped him back at the gate of Fort Bliss."

 

"One thing puzzles me. Why did Reede insist on Celina

 

getting married?"

 

"He kept saying he wouldn't let her baby be born a bastard."

 

Alex looked at him intently from behind her shaded glasses.

 

"Then, why didn't he marry her himself?"

 

"He asked her."

 

"So, what was the problem?"

 

"Me. I asked her, too." Seeing her confusion, he blew

 

out his breath. "This all happened the morning following

 

the, uh--"

 

"I understand. Go on."

 

"Celina was still real shaken up and said she couldn't think

 

clearly. She begged us to stop badgering her. But Reede said

 

she had to get married in a hurry, or everybody would find

 

out what had happened."

 

"Everybody found out anyway," she said.

 

"He wanted to protect her from the gossip as long as

 

possible."

 

"I must be dense, but I still can't figure it. Celina has two

 

men who love her begging her to get married. Why didn't

 

she?"

 

 

 

"She refused to choose between us." A furrow of concentration

 

formed between his brows. "You know, Alex,

 

that's the first smart, adult decision Celina ever made. We

 

were seniors in high school. God knows Reede didn't have

 

any money. I did, but my folks would have gone ape shit if

 

I'd've gotten married before I even graduated, especially with

 

Celina carrying another man's baby.

 

"She had another reason, though, more important than

 

finances or parental approval. She knew that if she chose one

 

of us over the other, it would alter the friendship forever.

 

There would be an odd man out. When it came right down

 

to it, she wouldn't break up the triangle. Funny, isn't it? That

 

happened anyway."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"It was never quite the same between the three of us after

 

we got back from El Paso. We were on guard all the time,

 

where before, we were always nakedly honest with each

 

other."

 

His voice turned sad. "Reede didn't see as much of her

 

as I did while she was pregnant, and that wasn't very often.

 

We were busy with school and she stayed close to home.

 

Oh, we went through the motions of still being best buddies,

 

but when we were together, we tried too hard to pretend that

 

everything was normal.

 

"That night she tried to abort you stood between us like

 

a solid wall. None of us could ever go up, over, around, or

 

through it. It was there. Conversations became an effort.

 

Laughter was forced."

 

"But, you didn't desert her."

 

"No. The day you were born, Reede and I rushed to the hospital. Besides your grandmother, we were the first people

 

you were introduced to."

 

"I'm glad of that," she said thickly.

 

"So am I."

 

"If I'd been Celina, I would have snagged one of you

 

when I had the chance."

 

His grin slowly faded. "Reede stopped asking."