ean and I didn’t fall in love. We flew in love. Swift and soaring, warmed by the sun glowing in a sky the color of bluebells.
For a couple who took the first months of their relationship so slowly, it was both a shock and a relief when we gave ourselves to each other so unreservedly after that Thanksgiving visit with his family. It was as if we both knew we were done with the past. And that our future was with each other.
As he’d asked, I waited until winter break to move into his apartment, and we enclosed ourselves in a private bubble of intense attraction, confessions, and sexy explorations. It was so easy for us to shut the rest of the world out. So easy to be alone together.
Before Christmas of that year, before winter’s first snowfall, we took a trip to Door County on a romantic getaway. We stayed in a cozy hotel, bundled up to go hiking, went to craft fairs, wine-tasting events, concerts, and a Christmas-tree-lighting ceremony.
We were driving back from an early dinner one night when Dean parked on the crest of a ridge surrounded by trees. The sun had just sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky mostly dark but painted with streaks of red.
“Are we parking?” I asked. “You know, parking?”
“You ever parked before?”
“Are you kidding?” I shook my head. “I was too busy being a straight-A student and editor of the Opinion page of the school newspaper.”
Dean grinned at me. “I wish I’d known you back then. I would’ve shown you some stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you would have. But good girls don’t park.”
“What do they do, then?”
“Study and bake pies.”
“Will you bake me a pie?”
“Someday, maybe. If you’re good too.”
“Oh, I will be.”
I couldn’t help smiling back, my heart fluttering. I had it bad for him, even as I was beginning to realize that my heart was breakable.
I’d never had my heart broken. Not by a man, at least. I’d protected it too well. My mother had broken my heart in ways only she could, but over the years I’d managed to patch it up again by avoiding contact with her. And by not letting anyone else get close enough to hurt me.
But sitting there in the dimly lit car with Dean, I realized he was the only man on earth who had the power not only to break my heart but shatter it into bits.
I also knew he wouldn’t. Not if he could help it. I would never have allowed him to get so close if I thought he might one day deliberately hurt me.
I could feel his gaze. “What?”
“You thought about it, didn’t you?” he asked. “Parking?”
“Most girls probably did.”
“But you weren’t most girls.”
“No.” I glanced at him. “But yeah, I thought about it. Thought about a lot more than just parking.”
“Like what?”
“You know.” My flush deepened. The interior of the car was getting warm from more than just the heater. I pressed back against the seat, running my hand over the butter-soft leather.
“Tell me,” he said.
“No.”
“I might do it.”
My breath caught. “You would?”
“Maybe.” He drawled the word as if he weren’t certain, but the gleam in his eyes told quite a different story.
“Okay.” My heart pounded faster with a combination of nervousness and anticipation. “I’ve thought about… uh, doing it in the backseat of a car. Like they did in the fifties.”
Dean laughed. “You think they only did that in the fifties?”
“Well, I mean, I saw it a lot in movies set in the fifties.” I frowned. “Stop laughing.”
“Sorry.” He tempered it down to a grin. “Just so you know, people have been doing it in the backseat way beyond the fifties.”
“Have you?”
“Sure.”
“Recently?”
“Not recently, no.” He tilted his head toward the backseat of his car. “So do you want to?”
“Here?” My heart was beating hard now. I swallowed and glanced out the windows. It was past sunset, and we were surrounded by trees with no one else around, but still…
“Well.” I pressed a hand to my chest. I was starting to throb between my legs. “Um… I’ve always thought it was one of the things I wanted to do before I die.” I winced. “Wait, that didn’t come out right. I mean in an adventurous way. Like I want to visit Machu Picchu, go up in a hot-air balloon, see the Northern Lights, have sex in the backseat of a car…”
My voice trailed off. Silence filled the car. Dean just sat there with his hands on the steering wheel. Waiting.
Finally I pulled off my shoes, unbuckled my seatbelt, and crawled ungracefully over the console between the seats to get into the back. Dean opened the glove compartment and took out a package of condoms.
“You keep condoms in there?” I asked.
“It is called the glove compartment,” he replied with a wink.
He got out of the car and opened the back door to get inside.
It was a close fit. His car was a sedan, but with the two of us in the backseat, the confines felt tight. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I was already warm just from thinking about the idea, and now sitting so close to him I began to get downright hot. And even more nervous.
I scooted away until I reached the opposite door. “This is a little silly.”
“Is it?”