“We have what we have, Nicky. Let’s not ruin it by looking ahead. The future isn’t something I like to think about.”
His hand slid down her bare arm and settled possessively on her left hand. She knew that he was thinking about the ring she no longer wore—and about the tiny white tan line that remained to mark its place. When he finally looked at her, he was smiling again. “I’ll take whatever you have to give, and . . .”
“And what?”
It took him a long time to answer, so long that she thought he’d changed his mind. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, “And hope it’s enough.”
Every day brought them closer together. In the last week of May, summer threw its multicolored net across the rain forest. Entire days passed without a drop of rain. Temperatures hovered around the low seventies. It was an unseasonal heat wave, and everyone in Mystic treasured the newfound warmth. Kids dug out last year’s cutoffs and pulled their bicycles out of storage. Birds clustered on telephone wires and swooped down, chattering and cawing, in search of plump, juicy worms.
Annie spent less and less time at her father’s house, and more and more in Nick’s bed. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t help herself. She was like a teenager again, consumed by her first lover. Every time she looked at Nick—which was about every fifteen seconds— she remembered their lovemaking. She couldn’t believe how uninhibited she’d become.
During the day, they were careful not to touch each other, but the forced abstinence only increased their desire. All day, Annie waited for the night to begin, so that she could creep into his bed again.
Today they’d had a wonderful time at Lake Crescent. They’d played volleyball on the beach, and rented paddle-boats, and on the long ride home, they had sung along with the radio. At home, Annie made a big pot of spaghetti, and after dinner, they sat around the big kitchen table and worked on Izzy’s reading skills.
Later, when they went upstairs, they all climbed into Izzy’s bed for story time.
Annie refused to think about how right all of this felt, how much she was beginning to belong here. She reached behind Izzy’s head and touched Nick’s shoulder, squeezing so hard for a moment that he looked up at her. At first he smiled, then slowly, that smile fell, and she knew he was seeing it in her eyes, the sudden fear, the desire that was going to hurt them all.
She turned away, focused instead on the open book.
Nick had read only the first page when the sound of a ringing telephone interrupted them. “I’d better go answer that,” he said.
“We’ll wait for you, Daddy,” Izzy said, snuggling up to Annie.
Nick pressed the book into Izzy’s hands and hurried out of the room. He came back a few minutes later, looking solemn.
Annie felt a prickling of fear. She sat up straighter, leaning forward. “Nick?”
He eased back into the bed, on the other side of Izzy. “That was your teacher, Izzy-bear. She said they’re having a class party on Friday—and all the kids want you to come.”
Izzy looked scared. “Oh.”
Nick smiled at her, a soft, gentle smile that seemed to reach right into Annie’s heart. “She said something about cupcakes.”
Izzy frowned. “I do like cupcakes.”
“I know you do, Sunshine.” He pulled her against him with one strong arm. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared, Izzy. It happens to all of us. What’s wrong is if we don’t try things because we’re afraid. We can’t hide away from the things that scare us.”
Annie heard so much in his voice, all the remnants of the lessons he’d learned the hard way. She felt a warm rush of pride for him, and she wondered again how she was going to leave this man, how she was going to return to her cold, sterile life, where she would end up searching in mirrors once again for evidence of her own existence.
Izzy sighed. “I guess a party would be okay. Will you’n Annie take me?”
“Of course we will.”
“Okay.” She looked up, gave Nick a tentative smile. “Daddy, will you read me another story, Daddy?”
He grinned. Reaching down to the floor beside the bed, he produced another book. “I thought you might ask that.”
He read like an actor, using deep, bass monster voices and high-pitched little-boy roars. Izzy sat perfectly still, her adoring eyes focused on her daddy’s face. When he smiled, she smiled; when he frowned, she frowned.
As he turned a page, he glanced at Annie. Over the child’s dark head, their gazes locked. There was nothing sexual in his eyes at all; there was just the simple pleasure of a man reading his daughter a bedtime story. The way he looked, as if this moment were the culmination of his every hope and dream, tore a ragged bite from Annie’s heart and left her with the strangest urge to cry.
After story time was over, Nick went back to his room and waited. Twice, he poked his head out and looked down the hallway. Twice it was empty, save for the feeble glow of a few poorly placed wall lights.
He paced the tiny room, bumping his head on the slanted roof almost every time he turned to the right.
Then he heard a knock.
He surged to the door and yanked it open. Annie stood in the doorway, wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of navy-blue kneesocks.
They barely made it to the bed. Kissing, groping, laughing, they fell onto the pile of wrinkled sheets. The tired old mattress creaked and groaned beneath them.
Nick had never wanted a woman so badly in his life, and Annie seemed to share his urgency. He held her, stroked and fondled and caressed her. She rolled with him, kissing him with a greediness that left him breathless, pulling his tongue deep into her mouth. They did anything and everything, made love and slept and made love again.