Not a Chance (Sweet Nothings)

chapter TWENTY-FIVE



Arden had avoided seeing Travis for the rest of the week. She called him a couple of times to see how the baby was doing and to reassure him that they were still on for Saturday. But she was hoping the bruise from Nick's ring would disappear enough that she could at least hide it with makeup. But Saturday night came and it was still fairly visible. It had faded some and the swelling was down, but there was no covering it up. So she put it out of her mind.

She climbed out of the shower and dried off. Then she put on pink lace bra and panties she'd just bought the day before. After admiring herself in the mirror for a few moments, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a white, button-up blouse. She kept the top three buttons undone. She tried the fourth, but then decided that would be too slutty. She brushed her hair. Tried it up. Then back down again. Then up. And finally left it down, hanging loose over her shoulders.

The doorbell rang. She ran to her bedroom window. She couldn't see the front door, but she could see Travis's car in the driveway. Forcing herself to swallow down her excitement, she calmly walked downstairs and opened the door.

Travis's smile vanished. He shoved a bouquet of roses at her and then reached for her face, leaning in close to examine it. "What happened?" he asked, his voice full of sympathy.

Arden pulled her face back and shoved her nose in the roses. "This was nice of you."

"Yeah. I haven't dated in forever, minus one-night-stands and short flings; so I didn't know whether people still brought flowers or not. What happened to your face?"

"Come on, I'll put them in water." She led him to the kitchen where she got a vase from the china cabinet and put the roses in it. She turned to face him and saw he was still staring at the bruise. "Hey! I got new underwear," she said. And then she hooked her thumb in her waistband at the hip and pulled it down far enough to show the lace at the top of her panties.

This worked for a moment. He grinned and turned a light shade of red in the face. "Nice," he said. Then his eyes drifted back up. "So...did you get in another fight or something? You're becoming quite the scrapper, aren't you?"

She turned to a cookbook she had laid out on the counter. "You ready to figure out how to make spaghetti and meatballs."

She felt Travis's hand on her lower back. "If it was Nick," he said softly, "I promise I won't let it ruin our evening. But I am going to have to kill him."

She turned and looked up at him. "It wasn't Nick. It was an accident. And I don't want to talk about it."

His expression was sober. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You're a pretty good liar. But okay. We won't talk about it. Tonight." Then he grinned. "Hey, I'm supposed to get a kiss, right?"

Arden suppressed a grin of her own. "Wouldn't you rather end the evening with that?"

He shrugged. "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I was kind of hoping we could end the evening with breakfast."

An unwelcome surge of heat turned her cheeks bright red. She could barely suppress a giggle. "Actually, I've got a recipe for that, too." And she turned back to her cookbook and flipped over to a page she had marked for a bacon quiche. Travis leaned on the counter, watching her every move, a cocky half-grin on his face.

He glanced down at the recipe. "I do not eat quiche, Arden. That's something you should already know."

Arden affected a sigh of frustration. "Yes, but I figured since there was bacon in it..."

"Fry the bacon. Scramble the eggs. Toast the bread. It's easy and satisfying. What more could you want?"

She looked up at him, allowing herself a moment to admire his solid chest and shoulders before meeting his eyes. "Yes, but this cookbook doesn't tell me how to fry bacon. Or scramble eggs. The toast I can maybe do."

He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. She waited, expecting him to do something dramatic. But he simply threaded his fingers into her hair and adored her in silence. His eyes roamed her face. It felt like he was touching her all over. But he wasn't.

And then suddenly he stepped back and started looking around him. "Nice place. You gonna give me a tour?"

Arden, bereft at losing his attention so suddenly, gaped at him. "A tour? Aren't you hungry?"

"Sure. But I'd still like to see the place. Never been in a house this big."

Arden shrugged. "Okay." She grabbed his hand, offering him her best, flirty smile, and led him out of the kitchen into the dining room. "This table is an antique. It's got black, iron legs and the top is mahogany..."

"It's lovely. What's upstairs?"

She turned, momentarily irritated. Then her mood softened. "Nothing interesting. All the good stuff is down here."

"Really?" he said, acting as though he were really interested. "Seems like I remember you saying your room was on the second floor. That might be interesting."

"Why would that be interesting?"

Travis shrugged. "You can tell a lot about a person by the decor of their bedroom."

She grabbed his hand and walked backwards, pulling him toward the stairs and grinning up at him. "Why do I get the feeling I'm being conned?" she asked.

He laughed. "You know exactly what's going on. You don't get to show me your pink underwear and then act all innocent all of a sudden."

She laughed and then turned and ran up the stairs. He pursued, taking the steps two-at-a-time. She took a left at the top of the stairs and ran into her room. She stopped, halfway in and turned. He had stepped in the door and stopped, looking around in awe.

"Holy shit," he said. "I had to share a ten-by-ten room with two brothers."

Arden shrugged. "Yeah, well, after they had me, there were complications and Mom couldn't have anymore children. So they knocked out a wall between two rooms and gave me all of this space. They put in the bathroom over here." She walked through the entryway to her bathroom and waited for him to catch up.

She had a huge, whirlpool tub. On the opposite wall was her sink and vanity which stretched along the whole wall. The mirror above was also full length. The surfaces were immaculate and organized. The floor was marble tiled. The shower itself was probably as big as Travis's whole bathroom.

"Fancy," he said, clearly trying to sound unimpressed.

She shrugged and smiled up at him. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and seemed slightly uncomfortable. These were not surroundings he often found himself in and she knew it had to feel weird for him. "You want me to fill up the tub?" she asked.

This worked like a charm. "Yes, please," he said, grinning brightly.

She skipped to the edge of the tub and turned on the water. When she turned around, Travis was gone. She stepped out of the bathroom and found him laying on her bed on his back, hands folded behind his head, boots kicking back and forth. "This is the biggest bed I've ever seen," he said. "I stayed at a Holiday Inn, once. But it wasn't this nice."

"You're making too big a deal out of this," she said. She walked over and climbed onto the edge of the bed. She pressed her hands to his chest and swung one leg over, sitting on his hips. She couldn't help admiring his strong body and thinking to herself, all of this is mine. She leaned over him, moving her hands to the bed on either side of his head. She hovered over him for a few seconds, her hair hanging on either side of his face, hiding them both from the rest of the world. She could practically hear the energy humming through his body, and yet he waited patiently for her to make the first move.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. He slid his hands up the outsides of her thighs and rested them on her hips. She kissed him on the cheek and then at the place between his eye and the curve of his nose. His hands tightened. She kissed beneath his jaw and then nipped at his earlobe.

He groaned. "This is heavenly torture," he said, his voice already husky with desire.

She giggled as she kissed his throat and slid her hands beneath his shirt, enjoying the soft hair of his chest and the firm muscles beneath.

She backed up and he sat up. She pulled at his shirt, tugging it over his head and messing up his hair. She examined the tattoos on his shoulders while he unbuttoned her shirt. Then she closed her eyes in pleasure when she felt his lips on her breasts. She held his face against her chest and ran her fingers through his hair. He pushed her shirt off her shoulders and licked his tongue beneath the lace edge of her bra.

She didn't allow herself to get too lost in him, remembering that the bath was running. She hopped off of him and slapped him on the arm. "Get your boots off my bed," she said, and then strolled toward the bathroom, unbuttoning her jeans. She turned to see him hopping on one foot taking off his boots. Then he grinned and followed her into the bathroom.

They finished undressing in front of each other and took their time drinking in the sights. Arden turned off the water and stepped into the hot whirlpool, sinking slowly up to her chest in the water, the bubble jets massaging her lower back. He lowered himself in at the opposite end, leaning back and propping his elbows on the sides behind him.

She sank beneath the water and came back up, slicking her wet hair back out of her face. He was smiling at her, watching her every move.

"Give me a cigarette and a beer and I'm in heaven," Travis said.

"You're not in heaven with me?" she asked, pooching out her bottom lip.

He shrugged. "You're all the way over there."

"Well I can fix that." She leaned forward and pushed off toward him. He grabbed her waist and pulled her down against him. He slid his hands up her sides and to her breasts. She gasped when he took one breast in his mouth. He slipped a hand between her legs and his fingers worked their way inside of her. She felt herself open up to him and the waves of pleasure slowly heightened until they burst inside of her and she gasped and panted and dug her nails into his shoulders as the spasming subsided and she was left trembling and breathing hard in his arms.

She felt his chest shaking and realized he was chuckling. She kept her cheek pressed to his chest. His arms were wrapped firmly around her. She slapped him on the arm. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he said. "I just thought it would be so difficult to get you here. I thought you'd make me wait days or weeks even. And here you just drag me up to your room as soon as I walk in the door. You couldn't wait to get my clothes off."

She retreated to her side of the tub. "You were the one who asked to come up here."

"Yeah, but you didn't argue. Admit it. You've wanted me all along."

She stood slowly and stepped out of the tub, appreciating how his arrogant grin disappeared as he watched her, his eyes widening in appreciation. She grabbed a towel and started drying her hair. "Fine," she said. "I wanted you all along."

He practically leapt out of the tub and took her in his arms. "God! We could have had such a good time during that snowstorm if you hadn't been so f*cking stubborn."

He lifted her off her feet and carried her toward her bed. She giggled and laughed. He tossed her on the bed and climbed on top of her, this time taking complete control of the situation, touching her and kissing her so passionately that she lost her breath. He went down on her bringing her back to the verge of orgasm. Then he came inside of her and it was all friction and sweat and blinding, glittering pleasure. Arden cried out more than once before he came with one final, powerful thrust, crying out through gritted teeth and bearing down on her so hard she felt she'd sunk halfway through her mattress.

Slowly his muscles relaxed. Arden stared at the ceiling, hugging him with her arms and legs, listening to his breathing slowly even out. Finally he groaned in pleasure, his voice muffled by the pillows. "There is a God. And he loves me," he said.

Arden laughed. Travis rolled off of her, onto his side. He propped his head on his hand and gazed adoringly at her, reaching out to touch her face. She felt both powerful and cherished. She reached out and touched his face and smiled as he closed his eyes in pleasure. She thought to herself that this must be what forever feels like.

"I love you, Arden," he said softly, looking seriously into her eyes.

For the first time she really heard the words and felt them deep inside of her. Tears sprung to her eyes and she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. "Oh, Travis," she murmured, nuzzling against him.

He rolled onto his back and she lay curled up against him. They dozed in and out for a half an hour.

"I need to tell you something," he said.

She had been half asleep. "Hmm?"

"I'm not doing this anymore." His voice was firm.

Arden sat up on her elbow. "What?"

"This," he said. "With you. In your parents' house. It just doesn't feel right. Tonight's fine. But not anymore."

She crinkled her brow. "Why? They're not home."

"I know. But it just feels wrong. It's their home. And...I don't know...I'm just not comfortable with it."

"Maybe when you get to know them."

"I don't think so."

"I don't understand," Arden said. "Nick used to stay over all the time and my parents didn't care."

Travis squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears with his hands. "I don't want to know shit like that."

"Sorry. Sorry," she said, reaching for his face and stroking his cheek. "I'm sorry," she said again, trying not to laugh.

He smiled gently up at her. "Just...no more. Okay?"

"Okay," she said. She folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin on them. "Are you hungry yet?"

"Starving. You should feed a guy before you take him to bed."

They got up and dressed, partially. Arden in a long t-shirt and panties. Travis in his t-shirt and boxers. Then they went to the kitchen and cooked together, taking plenty of breaks to touch and kiss. They took their plates to the den and put on a movie and ate while they watched TV. After they ate they cuddled awhile and wound up making love on the couch. After which Travis fell asleep, having his belly full of food and being sexually satisfied.

Arden dozed herself. They were asleep on the couch. Travis was behind her with his hand draped over her waist. She was laying on his other arm. When she woke up, the end credits to the movie were finishing. She patted Travis's hand, but he was sound asleep. She didn't want to leave him, but unfortunately she was desperately craving some chocolate fudge ice cream. She slowly pushed herself up. The room was lit only by the glow of the TV. When she went in the kitchen, she flipped on the hood light over the stove and, by its orange glow, located the ice cream in the freezer.

She sat on the floor with the tub of ice cream and a spoon, next to the island. She enjoyed about four bites before she looked up and saw Travis leaning over the counter, grinning down at her. He circled the bar, retrieved a spoon, and then sat across from her and helped himself.

"You even have the fancy ice cream," he said, shaking his head.

"Get over it. I'm not going to feel bad for having fancy ice cream."

He shrugged. "It's fine. But when you come over to my house you're getting generic and you'll be grateful for it."

She laughed. "You know, I was thinking. It's pretty crowded at your house."

He nodded, scooping out another bite of ice cream. "Yeah. That's why you need to get your own place."

"What? Why?"

Travis shrugged. "I don't know. Because you're twenty-three years old. You have a job of your own and can afford it. You have a boyfriend who doesn't want to have sex in your parents' house. Pick your reason."

She shoved him on the knee. "Okay, smartass. So where would you suggest I live?"

"I don't know. But rent. Don't buy. Because someday I'm going to get rid of Tonya and this baby, get Dustin happily married off, and move you on in with me."

"Oh, you've got it all figured out?"

"Yep." He took the ice cream from her hands and set it to the side. Then he leaned in and kissed her, pushing her further and further back until she was laying down on the floor. She wrapped her legs around him. Her body seemed to crave him even more, now, than when their evening had started. He kissed her neck and slipped his hand under her shirt, kneading her right breast.

And this was the position her parents found them in when they burst into the kitchen. The lights came on and Arden and Travis immediately closed their unadjusted eyes.

"Arden Butler!" Laura, her mother, shouted in shock and disapproval.

"You get off of my daughter this instant!" Mark shouted to Travis who was already scrambling to his feet. He grabbed the ice cream on the way up.

Arden stood and tugged at her shirt, trying to get it to cover more of her legs. She squinted at her parents. "I thought you guys were staying in St. Louis until tomorrow," she said.

"Yes, well," Mark said, "Marge Stanton called us and told us there was a strange car parked in front of our house. We tried to call, but you didn't answer."

Arden shrugged. She had turned off the ringer in her room and figured the answering machine could take care of any calls they might be getting. "I'm sorry you came all the way back for nothing."

"For nothing?" Laura shrieked. "We just saved you from making the biggest mistake of your life!"

Arden suppressed a grin and glanced back at Travis. He was leaning back against the counter, eating ice cream and enjoying the show. "It's not a mistake, Mom," she said. "I broke up with Nick three days ago."

"You what?" her parents shouted in unison.

"I can't be with him," she said. "I don't love him. And he's not a good person. Look what he did to my face when I told him I wanted to break up." She pointed to her cheek.

Travis slammed down the ice cream container. "I knew you were lying."

Arden turned to him, pleading with her eyes. "Not now," she growled.

"Travis," Mark said. Then he stopped and looked to Arden. "I assume this is Travis?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, daddy."

Mark looked back to Travis. "Mr. Lanier, I hope you don't think I'm being rude, but I'm going to have to ask you to get yourself dressed and leave my house. We have some things to discuss with our daughter."

Travis bobbed his head once. "Of course." He grabbed Arden's shoulder from behind, leaned down to her ear and said, "I told you." Then he disappeared out of the kitchen and upstairs.

Arden faced her parents. "You're totally out of line, here," she said. "Nick stayed over plenty of times."

"You and Nick were in a serious relationship," Laura said.

"Yes, and now I'm in a serious relationship with Travis."

"Three days after you break up with your fiancé you're sleeping with another man?" Laura said. "I don't call that serious. I call it reckless."

"Regardless...this is my life and you've no right to barge in and send him away." Arden stood taller, keeping her dignity as best she could in a t-shirt that barely covered her ass.

Mark held up his hands. "Go on and get yourself dressed, Arden. We'll talk about this once we've all settled down."

Arden huffed, stamped her foot, and then stormed out. An echo of her childhood self whenever she was told she couldn't have something she wanted.





Travis already had his clothes on and was shoving into his boots when Arden came in. "Look at you," he said. "Holding that head up, trying to act like your hair isn't a mess and you're not half-naked."

She just lifted her chin and raised one brow. "I don't want you to leave. You just stay right here and I'll work things out with my parents." She reached in her dresser drawer for a pair of pajama pants and slipped them on. Then she came over to Travis, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, and sat on his knee.

He just wanted to hug her and thank her for acknowledging his existence, let alone having him in her bed. He couldn't recall a time in his life when he'd felt this ridiculously happy. He delighted in the fact that he could touch her anytime he wanted. Talk to her about anything. Rest his head between her breasts and fall asleep. It all seemed too good to be true.

She kissed him and he swung her back down to the bed, feeling her up one more time and tickling her so he could hear her laugh again. He'd heard her laugh while they were snowed in together, but not the way she had tonight. Tonight she'd been relaxed. She'd let go of her need to control her emotions and just let things happen the way they needed to. Now, lying beneath him, she was warm and pliant. He dipped his tongue into her mouth and felt her respond to him. He touched her breast and then felt his way down her side and the curve of her waist and hip.

He couldn't have her right now, though. It would be wrong. But she was touching him, now. Her hands slid down his abdomen. She reached into his jeans and took hold of him.

"Christ, Arden," he murmured. "I have to go."

"No," she pleaded. And he knew she was doing it on purpose, putting that pleading into her tone. "Don't go, Travis. I want you so much!"

He moved further onto the bed. His mind screamed for him to stop but his body just wouldn't listen. Their mouths were occupied with kissing, but he tried to protest. "I can't...your folks...We have to stop."

"No, Travis! Don't stop. Please!" This time the pleading was genuine. She wanted him. The thought kicked his hormones the rest of the way into gear and he forgot all about her parents.

She wanted him. She was begging for him. This beautiful creature he'd pined for now couldn't keep her hands off of him. He sat back and yanked her pajama pants and panties off. Then he unzipped his jeans and shoved them down, just enough. Then he plunged inside her and smiled as she gasped. "Hurry!" she cried.

"No problem," he said.

He shoved his hand beneath her hips and tilted her up to meet him. She arched her back and cried out his name. She grabbed his free hand and held it to her breast. Her throat was long and bare and he kissed it and felt her pulse throbbing faster and harder and faster and harder until her legs suddenly tightened around him and she gasped sharply. Her body went rigid a few seconds and the excitement overwhelmed him so that he pulsed inside of her one final time, giving himself up to insanity and groaning with relief afterwards.

They lay there a few seconds, breathing and coming back to themselves. He pushed off her, pulled his pants back up and fastened them. He looked toward the open door of her bedroom and then back to where she lay. She had curled up and pulled a blanket over her.

"I feel terrible," he said.

She was smiling contentedly. "Why? I feel pretty damn good."

"Your old man asked me to leave. Not to f*ck his daughter one more time."

"Hey," she sat up. "I don't appreciate the language. I asked you to stay. That's all that matters. Now come lay down. I'll go talk to my parents and you'll spend the night and..."

"No." He grabbed his coat off the footboard of the bed. "I'm going. But when can I see you again?"

It looked, for a moment, like she might decide to be angry with him. But at last her expression softened into resignation. She smiled. "Tomorrow would be fine with me. If you aren't too busy or anything."

"Too busy? You've got to be kidding. Tomorrow it is."

They kissed one last time and then Travis bounded down the stairs. He made it to the front door when Mark showed up.

"Travis, would you join me in the den for a few minutes," he said. And then he turned and walked to the den without looking back.

Travis followed, hoping he wasn't about to have to apologize for what he'd just done with Arden. It had only taken a few minutes, surely Mark wouldn't have known about it.

Mark gestured toward the couch and Travis sat in the place he'd been, not an hour ago, sleeping soundly. Mark went to the bar on the far wall and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"Hope you like scotch," he said.

"Thank you, sir. I don't drink."

Mark turned, his brows raised. He replaced one of the glasses, filled the other one and then opened a drawer and pulled out cigars. "Tell me you at least smoke," he said.

"Occasionally."

Mark snipped the ends off the cigars. He sat in a chair opposite Travis and handed him a cigar. Travis had his own lighter so he lit his up while Mark sat his whiskey down and lit his. Travis puffed a few times to get the smoke going and then inhaled deeply. He leaned back and exhaled slowly. This was the best cigar he'd ever tasted.

"May I ask why you don't drink?" Mark asked.

"I'm a recovering alcoholic, sir. I'll be five years sober the end of January."

Mark nodded. "That's a good long time. I guess Arden knows about all of that."

Travis nodded.

"May I ask what's going on between you two? Is it serious? Or just getting started?"

"For me, it's serious. I want to marry her. But I've got some things in my life I need to take care of first and besides, I don't think she feels the same about me yet."

Mark frowned. "She's pretty young. What're you going to do if she changes her mind and doesn't want to date you any more."

Travis went cold inside. "I try not to think about that. This was our first date. I'm just happy she wants me at all."

Mark smiled sadly. "My concern, Travis, is that Arden isn't usually impulsive. I've never seen her make a decision that wasn't well thought out. So I advise caution on your part." He took a sip of his whiskey. "I'll be honest, Travis. I don't know you, but I can tell you for a fact I wouldn't have ever picked you for my daughter. Both because you don't seem her type and because I'm not certain of your background. But I do trust Arden's judgment and if she says you're a good man, well then, that's that."

"Thank you, sir," Travis said, not entirely sure whether a thank you was appropriate or not since he may have just been insulted.

"You wouldn't mind telling me a bit about your father, would you?"

Travis laughed, leaning forward and tapping his cigar on the edge of an ashtray. He sat back and took another puff of the cigar. "I reckon you already know all there is to know. It was all the papers wrote about for weeks."

"So it's true, then? He murdered those two people?"

Travis shrugged. "He says he didn't. But I'm inclined to believe he did."

Mark frowned. "Do you keep in contact with him?"

Travis nodded. "I send him a note once a month. I visit him every year around Christmas. I guess that's about all you can do. I'd go see him more often, but, I don't know, time just gets away from you."

"I wonder that you see him at all? No one would blame you for cutting him off."

Travis shrugged. "He's my old man. The only one I've got, for better or worse. What can be the harm in keeping in touch?"

"I suppose. And you're close with your brothers?"

"Yes, sir. There's only one troublemaker in the bunch. And I'll figure out how to handle him before I bring Arden into my life. She's made very clear she doesn't want anything to do with my family problems."

"Mm-hmm," Mark said, nodding. "And it doesn't bother you? That the woman you profess to want to spend your life with won't be involved in that aspect of your life?"

Travis stared at him in shock. It would have been a lot easier if he'd held a gun to his head and told him never to see his daughter again. "What are you saying?"

"Travis, I'm saying that when I look at you, I see the real world. And when I look at my Arden, I see a young woman who isn't ready for the real world." He set his cigar in the ashtray and leaned back with his whiskey. "Contrary to what you might think, my concern, here, is actually for you."

Travis sat up straighter. "I think I can look after myself, sir," he said, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

"You can? How well do you know Arden?"

Travis cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. "She talked to me about breaking up with Nick. I know what it's gonna look like if she ever decides to break up with me." He looked up at him. "But I can make her happy. She won't have to break up with me. I'll give her everything I can."

Mark smiled sadly. "I'm sure you will. My concern is that she won't do the same for you."

"Again. Thank you. But I'm willing to risk it."

"Well," Mark polished off the last of his whiskey and then stood. Travis followed suit. "Since I can't talk you out of dating her," Mark said. "Why don't you come for dinner Sunday after church. So the wife can meet you. My sister-in-law and her family will be down, as well."

Travis tried with all of his might not to grin like an idiot. He shook Mark's hand. "Thank you, sir. I'll be looking forward to it."

Mark walked him out and Travis drove home feeling good about his life.





Dustin sat behind the wheel of his car in the driveway of the parsonage where Emma lived with her parents. This was their sixth date. Way too soon to be having dinner with her parents. He'd tried to tell her so, but she just brushed off his concerns.

"It will be very informal," she had said. "You don't even have to think of them as my parents. Just treat them like two regular people. You can even call them by their first names."

But Dustin would be calling Roy and Susan by the more formal, Pastor and Mrs. Harris. He just couldn't do it the other way.

He took a deep breath. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. He should have had a drink to calm his nerves, but he was afraid of everyone smelling liquor on his breath. One more deep breath. He stepped out of the car. He was wearing jeans and a button-up shirt which was about as fancy as he got, except on Sundays when he put on a tie. Sometimes.

He raised his fist to knock on the door, but Emma was there before he had the chance. She beamed up at him and he would have loved to have a moment to bask in the glow of her sweet smile, but she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him inside. He caught glimpses of the foyer and the living room off to the left before he was swept into a quaint dining room off the kitchen and plopped into a chair at one end of the table.

Emma stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders. Pastor Harris sat at the other end, a healthy looking man in his fifties, hair mostly gray. Susan Harris stood next to him and Dustin wondered whether it was standard for the women to stand while the men sat.

"Mom, Dad, you know Dustin Lanier," Emma said, her voice chipper and not the least bit distressed.

"Of course," Pastor Harris said. He stood and extended his hand. Dustin leaned over the table and shook it. "We're glad you could come, Dustin."

"Thank you sir."

Emma patted him on the shoulder. "We'll just leave you two to visit while we get dinner finished."

Dustin turned to try to catch her, but she was gone. A split second later, her mother had disappeared into the kitchen behind her. Dustin turned back to face the pastor. Somehow, there was a cup of coffee in front of him and he picked it up and took a sip.

"So I hear your date the other night got interrupted in a rather bizarre turn of events," Pastor Harris said.

"Yes," Dustin said, letting out a short laugh. "That crazy ex-wife of Travis's..."

Pastor Harris chuckled and shook his head. "Poor Travis. Tonya and the baby are well, though?"

"The baby is. Tonya looks about as unhealthy as you can get and still be breathing."

"Poor girl. Perhaps the church can help her out...get her into a rehab clinic of some sort."

"I'm sure Travis would appreciate that."

"He's a good man, your brother. A cheerful sort of fellow."

Dustin nodded even though he wondered what had prompted Pastor Harris to make such an observation.

"He's made a lot of friends. Come a long way from where he was ten years ago. Even five years ago."

Dustin nodded again and took another sip of coffee, wishing he could stay hiding behind that cup until Emma got back.

"I believe Emma had lunch with him one day a couple of weeks ago, didn't she?"

"Yes, sir." She’d been asking for his help getting a recently homeless family moved into some subsidized housing.

"He'd been paying her so much attention lately that Susan and I had sort of thought it would be him dating her by now." Pastor Harris chuckled again, as though he had made a witty observation.

Dustin's eyes narrowed. "Travis inherited all the charm in the family, sir, but I'm the one that loves Emma. He's been trying to help us get together for some time now."

The pastor looked confused. "Helping you? Why would he do that?"

"Because I get nervous around girls and she's too ladylike to ask a guy out." Dustin shifted around to glance in the kitchen. The door was open only a crack and he got to see a swish of skirts before he had to turn back to face the pastor again.

"So you don't think Travis is interested in our Emma for himself."

Dustin finally saw it and it made him laugh out loud. "You actually want Travis to date your daughter? Fathers hide their daughters in closets and basements and guard the doors with shotguns when they see Travis coming. And you want him to date Emma? Trust me, sir, that would only end in heartbreak for her and for you."

Pastor Harris sat up straighter and raised one brow. "You don't think very highly of your brother it seems."

"That's not true. I think the world and all of Travis. He's the strongest, most courageous man I know. But he's no good for a girl like Emma."

"And you are?"

Dustin suddenly felt defensive. He hated feeling defensive. He set his jaw and looked hard into Pastor Harris's eyes. "I'm just the right man for her."

The pastor glared right back at him. But then his expression softened and ended in a smile. "Perhaps you are at that. At least I suppose Emma thinks so, don't you dearest?" He looked past Dustin.

"I sure do," Emma said. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

Again, Dustin would have loved for her to linger near so that he could smell the way her natural scent mingled with the rose soap she used; and feel her soft, tender lips, hot on his skin. But she was gone before he could so much as smile back at her.

Emma and Susan darted in and out of the kitchen setting the table and bringing out a large roast with potatoes and carrots and what looked to be homemade dinner rolls and fresh whipped butter. Amidst the burning in his stomach from the nerves, he felt a rumbling of hunger. He wondered whether Emma had cooked this and if he had this kind of good eating to look forward to in the very distant future. Sure would be nice to have food that took longer than three minutes in the microwave to cook.

Everyone bowed their heads and the pastor said a prayer. And before Dustin knew it or had lifted a finger, his plate was filled with gravy covered meat and vegetables, a hot, buttered roll on the side.

He took a bite and was grateful it didn't get snatched off of his tongue the way Emma's smiles and kisses seemed to be disappearing. The meat was so tender it practically dissolved on his tongue like cotton candy. "Who do I compliment for this meal?" he asked, looking to Susan.

"Oh, Emma," she said, with a cheerful smile. "She insisted on doing it all."

He smiled at Emma. His girl. "It's delicious. You're amazing," he said. Then he realized he might ought to clarify. "At cooking, I mean. Not that you're not generally amazing overall...because you are...but I just mean..."

She mercifully laid her hand on Dustin's. "Thank you, Dustin. I know what you meant."

He grinned in relief and continued eating.

"She made dessert, too," Susan said. "I suggested she make you a pecan pie. I've made those for Travis because I know they're his favorite. But Emma insisted you were a chocolate chip cookie man."

Dustin laughed. "I am a man of simple tastes," he said. He refrained from telling her that Travis's favorite pie was whichever pie was in front of him at the moment. He was too happy that Emma knew this little detail about him.

"Well we'll have to have you over a few more times," Susan said, "so that Emma can show you the versatility of her cooking skills. That way you'll know exactly what you're getting when you get married."

Dustin choked. Dear God, not the "m" word.

"Mom, I'm not auditioning," Emma said.

"Oh, but you are, dear." Susan turned to Dustin. "You do want a wife who can cook, don't you?" she asked.

"A wife?" Dustin's voice squeaked.

Susan stared at him as though she didn't understand his response.

"We assumed that your intentions were ultimately to marry our daughter," Pastor Harris said.

Dustin's hear was banging around in his chest. "I...I...,"

"Daddy, it's our sixth date," Emma said. "Dustin doesn't want to talk about that stuff now. He'll propose whenever he's ready."

Dustin stared in horror at Emma who was calmly taking prim little bites of her food and smiling like nothing out of the ordinary was taking place.

"Well the way I understand it," Pastor Harris said, "you two have been interested in each other for a while. I can't imagine a courtship lasting too long."

"Of course not," Susan said. She smiled at Dustin. "Why, we've already got a wedding cake picked out. And you should see the dresses she's going to try on."

Dustin couldn't hear anything over the pounding in his ears. The food lost all taste. His tie was choking him. He reached to his neck. No, he wasn't wearing a tie. It was the invisible yoke of marriage wrapping its cold fingers around his neck like the hand of death.

"Dustin, are you alright?" Emma said.

He looked at her and nodded, trying not to show the terror that he was feeling. "Fine. Great."

She smiled and patted him on the hand again. After dinner there was dessert and still more talk of a future he was in no way being asked to participate in, but that involved him nonetheless.

"I know it's cold outside," Emma said, "but would you like to bundle up and sit on the porch swing with me?"

Dustin sighed in relief. "That sound's great," he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. At last an end to the horror and a few moments alone with the girl he loved.

She brought out a huge blanket for them to share. Dustin slid his arm around Emma's waist and pulled her up against him. All he would get to do until they were married was hold her. And since the thought of marriage terrified him beyond description, he would just have to train himself to be satisfied with it.

Emma slid her arm behind his back and lay her head on his chest. He rested his cheek in her hair and inhaled the scent of her. Their breath turned to fog in front of them, but they felt warm being near each other.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him. He smiled down at her, but she wasn't smiling. She was breathing faster than normal and her lips were slightly parted and he knew she wanted him to kiss her. Which made him smile more. And then he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. The winter felt like Spring, then, and he felt her smile against his lips. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles, then he reached his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back, cradling it in his big, strong hand.

This time when he kissed her he didn't stop. He pulled her hard against him and drank her in, lapping at her tongue with his own like a desert traveler, parched and desperate for water. He pulled away for a quick second for a gulp of air and then plunged back in for more. Her breath was sweet and her skin was soft and the little moans of pleasure she emitted inflamed his passion to almost more than he could bear. Yet the more he tasted her the more he needed more of her. His fingers dug into her back and he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest.

And then she pushed herself away.

"God," he gasped, groping at her trying to pull her back against him. She angled herself away from him and looked into the night. He was still panting like a dog. He held onto her shoulders and kissed her neck. "Oh, Emma," he whispered. "You're so sweet." He nipped at her earlobe.

She inched away, out from under his grasp and then turned to face him. "I'm really sorry about my parents tonight," she said. Her voice was strong and her breathing normal.

"What?" Dustin said. The blood flow hadn't returned to his brain and all he could focus on was her red, swollen lips. He licked his own lips in remembrance of the taste.

"All the marriage talk? I can tell it really bothered you," she said. She leaned back against the swing and pulled the blanket back over her shoulders.

Was this not the same woman he'd been making out with only a moment earlier? Had she not been in the exact same moment with him? And yet here she sat, perfectly undisturbed. Poise in tact. Only a few loose strands of hair and those lips as evidence that they'd been doing anything more than cuddling. "It's okay," he said, still trying to get his breath back. "I don't care. Come back over here with me."

"It's just, they know how much I want to get married. And they're also very old-fashioned. They don't believe in dating just to date. It has to be going somewhere. And I've assured them that what you and I have is definitely going somewhere. But I think they just want to hear it from you."

He reached out and touched a lock of her hair where it was hanging against one cheek and touching the corner of her mouth. "That was some pretty good kissing, huh?" he said.

She sighed. "I just wish they'd been more tactful. I hope they didn't freak you out too badly?" She looked up at him, then and met his eyes.

She'd been so close to him and now she was so far away. "I'm fine with it," he said, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "Maybe we just don't have dinner with your parents again for a while."

She looked away, her brows furrowed. "I'm really close with my family, Dustin."

"Of course you are, Emma. But this is our sixth date. It's way, way too soon for all of this...marriage talk."

She looked hard at him then. "But not too soon for making out?"

Ah, so she had been there with him after all. He grinned. "Definitely not too soon for that. In fact, the night is young if you want to do a little more of it."

She huffed and her eyes welled up. "I might've known that you'd be just like every other guy."

This worked like a bucket of ice water and suddenly winter was back in full force. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked quietly.

"You'll try everything you can to get me into bed, but when I ask for commitment, you want nothing to do with me. Well I won't let you use me, Dustin. If you love me then you'll wait."

Dustin's jaw muscles flexed. The insult was fairly heavy, but Emma was young and inexperienced. So he offered her his patience. "Look me in the eye, Emma," he said. And she did. "This is our sixth date. It is too soon to talk about marriage." She started to look away, but he gently touched a finger to her cheek and kept her attention. "You explained to me your rules for dating when we first went out. And I promised you I would support you. You create the boundaries and I won't push them. Kissing you just now was probably the single greatest moment of my life, but if that's something you don't want me to do anymore, then just say the word. Don't go accusing me of trying to get away with something. Because sweetheart, you kissed me right back."

She stared up at him, angry at first. But slowly the anger faded and she offered him an apologetic smile. "Okay," she whispered. "I just...I need to know that marriage is the end goal. Making out with you was amazing, but if I can't eventually have sex with you, then I don't really want to tempt myself with more of your kisses."

Dustin choked at her blunt mention of sex. She wanted to have sex with him. He wished she'd never said it because now the idea was sewn into his mind forever. He laughed a little and then pulled himself together. There were larger issues at hand. "Emma, you want me to promise you that I'll marry you eventually and I...I just can't make that promise."

"No, I just need to know that's what you want. What we're working toward. Maybe it will work out and maybe it won't, but I need to know that I have a possible future with you."

He drew in another deep breath. He'd try to explain one more time. "I don't know how else to say it, Emma. It took me two years to get up the courage to ask you out. And the stress of doing that probably knocked ten years off my lifespan. I can not talk about marriage. I can't."

"Then why are we dating?"

He leaned forward and dug his palms into his eyes. Then he stood. "I think I'd better just call it a night."

Emma jumped up and grabbed his arm. "No! I want to know why you want to go out with me? Why ask me in the first place? You know you've no chance of going to bed with me. You don't want to talk about marriage. So why?"

Dustin couldn't comprehend her mentality in the least. Why ask why at all? Why not just live moment-to-moment and see where things go? "I don't know, Emma. I'm in love with you. I'm happy when I'm near you. I just want to spend time with you and see what happens. Can't that be enough for you? On this, our sixth date?"

He watched as emotions he didn't understand played out over her face. Finally a resigned smile settled in. "Okay. You're right. It's enough. I'll back off."

He smiled at her, relieved. He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her goodbye. As he turned to leave she stopped him one more time. "Just...," she hesitated. "Just don't break my heart. Okay?"

He had no answer for that. So he turned and walked away.