Sweet Annie Part 25

"What?"

"Did I please you?"

He sighed against her hair. "Any more pleasure and I'd have died of it."

"So I please you as much as those others did?"

He looked at her and frowned. "I wish they had never happened so you didn't have to think about it. There's nothing to compare. Those women were years ago and it wasn't anything like this."

She brushed her fingers over his nipple once. Twice, hoping to distract him from his annoyance.

"I didn't love them, Annie. They didn't love me. Because you love me, what we share is beyond simple physical pleasure. I have never wanted anyone like I want you."

How she needed those words. "Still?"

"Always."

"Did anyone ever watch you shave?"

"Gil. Didn't have the same effect, believe me."

She laughed and snuggled her face against his chest where she'd wanted to place her cheek ever since she'd first seen him without his s.h.i.+rt.

"Do I know any of them?"

"Who?"

"Those women you made love with years ago."

"It wasn't love and Lord, no!"

"Well, I wanted to be sure, just in case I was sitting beside someone in church or shopping at the mercantile or perhaps borrowing a book from the library, that I didn't have to wonder if this woman or that woman had seen your chest-and all the other parts of you."

He was silent a long moment.

"Like that woman who works at the cafe or one of the girls who takes in laundry. Perhaps Mrs. Krenshaw."

He pulled her head away from his chest and looked her in the eyes, his raised eyebrows creasing his forehead. "You're teasing me!"

She chuckled at his astonishment and loved that she could make him laugh...and groan...and lose control. Her insides turned to liquid again.

He rolled her to her back and leaned over her to kiss her soundly. "If you have any more questions, ask them now, 'cause I don't intend for this to be a nightly subject. I barely remember anyway."

"I think I know enough," she said, brus.h.i.+ng her finger across his lip.

He loved her with his eyes, surveyed her face, her hair, then reached to pull a pin from the tangled ma.s.s.

"I must look a fright." Suddenly self-conscious, she reached up to her mangled coiffure and removed the remaining hairpins.

"Oh, yes, a fright. I don't know how I'll stand lookin' at you every morning for the rest of my life."

She placed her hands on his forearm, found the soft hairs there and rubbed. She'd always admired his face, but he was equally incredible all over. So different from her. And so perfect. "Looking at you is such a joy. Can you possibly feel that way about me?"

"Looking at you is like feeling the sun on your face on a mild afternoon. It's like sittin' by a fire and enjoying the heat until your skin feels tight, but you don't want to move away because it feels so good."

She contemplated him in amazement. "Me? Really, you think those things about me? You speak like a poet, do you know that? If you had never touched me, I would have been seduced by your pretty words."

"Someday I'll put that to the test." He ran a finger down her shoulder to the edge of the sheet that covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and lazily skimmed it back and forth. "Right now touching you is much more fun than talkin'."

"What about the food?"

"Man cannot live by ham and bread alone."

His words were teasing, but the pa.s.sion in his eyes was real. Annie brushed her fingers along his smoothly shaven jaw, understanding that he'd shaved for her-for this. She caressed his silky thick hair and drew her finger across his brow, down his nose, across his lower lip. "Loving you this much almost hurts," she told him, serious now. "Loving you is fierce and greedy and-and confusing. Sometimes tender, sometimes so desperate I ache inside. I hoped this ache would go away after we were married, but I feel it still."

Luke kissed her tenderly. "Just so you feel me lovin' you back. Feel it?"

She closed her eyes, concentrated on her senses and heard his breath, felt the thud of his heart beneath her palm, smelled his salty skin and the musk of their lovemaking. "I feel it," she whispered.

Chapter Fourteen.

They awoke early Sunday morning, and Luke boiled coffee. "I forgot about a teapot and tea," he apologized.

They sat at the table with the sun streaming through the new panes of window gla.s.s. The smell of the biscuits he'd showed her how to make lingered in the air. Annie wore her wrapper and a pair of Luke's wool socks. "That's okay," she a.s.sured him. "I'll try a cup of your coffee."

He leaned across the table to set down a cup and fill it, and she admired the hair and muscle visible in the open V of his s.h.i.+rt. Her belly quivered at the memories of their afternoon and night together. Embarra.s.sed, she changed the direction of her thoughts. "Are we going to church?"

"Do you want to?" He sat across from her. "Burt is handling the livery today, so I can do anything you'd like." He sipped his coffee.

Anything she'd like was quite tempting. She smiled to herself. Annie couldn't help imagining facing her parents, friends and townspeople, and having them thinking about Luke and Annie's private moments on their wedding night. "Let's not go."

"All right. Guy and Lizzy are bringing our gifts this afternoon. You'll have a lot to do once those things get here. Until then we could make plans. Go over the things we're going to need to make this place a home."

She glanced over his shoulder at the bare window. "Fabric for curtains should be on the list."

Luke got up and found a wrinkled piece of brown paper and a pencil. "Right. A list." He touched the tip of the pencil to his tongue and scratched out a word.

Annie thought of the notes he'd sent her and tenderness washed over her. Astonished that he was truly her husband now, she swallowed welling tears. His strength and agility were tempered by tenderness and compa.s.sion. She remembered him walloping Burdy after being provoked, thought of the tasks he performed every day which required power and muscle, and compared that to the poetic words he spoke and the gentle way he touched her.

How had she ever deserved him? What divine quirk of fate had brought this man into her life at an early age and made him fall in love with her?

"Tea. And a kettle," he added, still absorbed in his list. "Sorry about the bucket, you'll need a pitcher and bowl for was.h.i.+ng."

"The bucket gets the job done. Can we afford to pay for these things?"

"We have a bank note for the house, but we're not dest.i.tute," he a.s.sured her. "It'll be tight for a while."

"Maybe I can contribute?" she suggested timidly, accustomed to any mention of performing tasks being sternly ruled out by her mother.

"How?" he asked without hesitation.

His interest startled her. Now she had to think the idea over. The freedom to actually think about it without fear of censure was exhilarating. Annie straightened in her chair. "The girls and their mothers were largely impressed by my sewing skills. Lizzy's mother said I have a real sense for style and fabrics. I promised to make Charmaine's wedding dress...perhaps I could find ladies to sew for."

He didn't say anything, so she hurried to make the idea as plausible as she could. "You'll be gone every day at the livery, and I doubt that the house will take that much time to keep clean. Not that it's too small, I didn't mean that, I only meant that with just the two of us..."

Luke tapped the pencil against his cup. "Could you do that here? Or would you need a place to work?"

Annie's jaw dropped. The suggestion hadn't disturbed him in the least! She started to get excited about the idea. "I could do it here. There's plenty of light and I could use the kitchen table for cutting!"

"What would you need?" he asked, the pencil once again hovering over the paper.

"I have scissors and thimbles and just about everything I can think of."

"A comfortable chair," he said. "You'd need a nice place to sit."

Tears smarted behind her eyes. She scooted from her chair and wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing his ear and his brow. "Oh, Luke! You are the most incredible man!"

He dropped his writing tools and slid his chair back so he could pull her onto his lap.

She framed his face and kissed him. "Thank you, Luke."

"For what?"

"You truly don't know, do you?"

"No."

"For letting me be a real person," she said, her voice hoa.r.s.e with emotion. "For loving me."

"It's an easy thing loving you." His hands moved up her sides to the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "You don't have anything on under here, do you?"

"Uh-a nightgown."

He made a face. "One of those flannel contraptions that b.u.t.tons up to your throat?"

"Not exactly."

He parted her wrapper at the neck. "What, then?"

She flattened her palm over her chest to hold the robe shut. "Something Charmaine and Lizzy gave me. It was the first thing I found when I opened my trunk this morning."

"Well, let's see."

He'd already seen her in the bright light of day and her abnormality hadn't put a damper on his ardor or his desire for her. Feeling scandalous, but also eager to see his reaction, she got to her feet and slowly, watching his face the whole time, opened her wrapper.

His gaze touched every curve of her body through the sheer fabric and he swallowed. "Oh, my."

The list didn't get finished until after lunch.

"Did he like the nightgown?" Lizzy asked in a hushed voice as they washed the few dishes they'd used to eat the ca.s.serole and pie she'd brought.

Drying a plate, Annie felt herself blush. "Well, actually, he didn't get to see it until this morning."

"And?"

"And I thought he was going to melt on that chair."

They shared a laugh.

"I told you he'd like it," Lizzy said.

Later, after Guy and Lizzy had gone home, as Annie put away blankets and covered the bed with a brightly colored star quilt, she ruminated over the changes that had evolved in her life over the past months. Besides the miracle of Luke, the newly formed friends.h.i.+ps and the acceptance she felt among the townspeople were like a dream come true. Her stifling existence had turned into the full life of a normal woman.

The sadness that her parents couldn't enjoy her newfound abilities and confidence was the only dim spot in a bright future. She could only hope and pray that her mother would come around. Her father had seemed more willing to accept the changes and share in her happiness, but he wouldn't be free to show his approval while his wife still bore such hostility.

The day pa.s.sed too soon, and the night even more quickly.

On Monday Luke took her to town to order a chair, and while they were there, she posted notices on the walls at the telegraph office and mercantile. That first week she had orders for three dresses.

The work came as a blessing, filling her hands and her mind during the long hours that Luke spent at the livery.

Sunday arrived as a brisk morning with the scent of wood smoke in the air. Since Luke had early-morning work getting rigs ready for the churchgoers, he escorted her to the Renlows' on his way into town.

Aunt Vera hugged her and served a cup of tea and a b.u.t.tery cinnamon roll. Squealing when she saw Annie in their kitchen, Charmaine pulled a chair beside her to share her latest news about school and the other girls.

"I was beginning to feel as though I'd lost my best friend," she told Annie with a pout.

"She's a bride, Charmaine," her mother scolded. "Newlyweds spend time getting to know each other."

"What more is there to know? Luke's perfect. Right?"

Annie nodded with a grin. That he was. "He said for me to ride along with you and he'll find me in church."

Later, during the hymns, he found her standing beside the Renlows and placed his hand at the small of her back. Annie smiled up, pleased as always to see him, smugly possessive and proud.

This was family-dinner Sunday, and Charmaine had told her that the Renlows would be joining the gathering. Annie hadn't spoken to her parents since the wedding, and the prospect of their unpredictable welcome troubled her.

Her father greeted them after church, but her mother marched toward the Renlows' buggy as though she hadn't seen Annie.

"You're coming for dinner," her father stated.

"We'll be there as soon as I have the livery under control," Luke said with a nod. "After church a few rigs are returned and more are rented."