Her eyes stray to my mouth. I kiss her, consuming her kiss, reveling in the taste of her. Her breathing is harsh, like mine.

She pulls back, breathless. “What’s your better idea? This one isn’t enough for me.”

My hands flatten on her back, guiding her into my kiss. My lips move softly at first, claiming her, possessing her, and building…building…then I’m consumed by her as I try to pour everything I feel for her into this kiss.

“I love you,” I murmur, my voice hoarse, my blood raging, my thoughts careening. “We still have time, Chrissie, to have a wonderful life together. I don’t want to waste even a minute of it. Let me be here with you. However it works out. Let me love you, however you want it. Whatever you need from me, let me give it. However you want me, I’m yours. But let’s not waste any more time, baby. Marry me.”

 

 

Chapter 15

Two months later

 

Oh fuck. I’ve overslept. That’s Bach’s Air on a G String pouring from the ceiling speakers. Chrissie is already in motion for the day. I probably won’t catch her again until midnight.

How the hell does she manage this pace?

I stretch out in bed. Fuck, I’m fully erect. Hard. Ready to go. And she’s not here. She knows the agreement. 4 a.m. to 7 a.m. is our time. I grab my cell phone from the night table.

Shit, it’s after eight.

Why the fuck did she let me sleep through the morning?

Early morning has become Pavlovian to me.

Oh, my favorite part of the day with her.

Doesn’t she get that yet?

I sit up and scan the room. Carafe of coffee on the nightstand. Thank you, Chrissie. No wife in room. Still too much sunlight in here even with the shades pulled down over every window.

I definitely need to reopen the discussion about moving. This house is too small. Anything short of fifteen thousand square feet with separate wings for everyone is too small. And I’m certainly not hot on the notion of living permanently in Pacific Palisades without a wall for privacy and security.

No, not doing that one, Chrissie. Time for another round of intense—probably futile—negotiations. Well, she might surprise me. She’s not always a pain in the ass, rigid and inflexible. She wasn’t that morning on the patio when she agreed to marry me. I can still feel it in my body exactly how it felt when she finally said yes…

*  *  *

I am sprawled on a backyard sofa with Chrissie draped over my body. It’s nearly sunrise. I don’t want to let go of her. I don’t want to leave. I feel completely sated. Lying here with her, doing nothing but quietly touching.

Fully aroused and sated at once.

“Say it again. I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” I whisper into her ear.

Chrissie laughs. She lifts her face and stares at me. “Yes, I will marry you, Alan. It was yes when you asked me. It was yes an hour ago. It’s still yes.”

We both laugh.

I hug her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “We can go to Nevada today. Get married there. No wait.”

“No, I’m not doing that.”

The tone of her voice—oh shit, she married Neil there.

“Fine. Then when?”

I stroke her hair and wait. I’m happy. Don’t ruin it, Chrissie. Not now. Tell me something I want to hear, baby.

“We need blood tests in California. It’s a three-day wait.”

Oh fuck. She’s organizing it in her head.

I take her face in my hands and move her head so I can stare into her eyes. “What is that? Four days’ time, tops? Fine. We’ll get married Thursday. Pick a place.”

Chrissie frowns. “You’re ridiculous. Four days, Alan? Not going to happen. I need more time. I want to get married somewhere quiet and beautiful. A place special to both of us. Where we can have the kids and some of our friends. Nothing elaborate. But I want it special.”

Damn. Special. That’s going to take a minimum of a year for her to pull together.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” she says and I tense. I lift my head from the pillow so I can study her face and see where this is going. “No in regards to Thursday. Not happening. Not workable. But if we invite only the people we really like—”

“—I don’t like anyone but you. Does that make it easier? Will it make it sooner?”

She laughs and makes a face. “No. Best I can do—and it’s a limited time offer, not subject to negotiation—Sunday in Santa Barbara at Jack’s. Then we can leave Jack the kids and slip away. How about Sunday? You in?”

*  *  *

You in? Her voice floats through my memory and I laugh. Yep, I’m all in, Chrissie. I wasn’t sure I would be, but I am. And the last two months have been the best months of my life, baby.

Now where the hell are you?

I hear talking from the closet. She’s on the phone. Damn, she’s dressing.

I turn onto my side, reclined on a hip with my cheek in my palm, facing the doorway. I hear the sound of hangers against the bar. She’s shoving outfits aside. She hasn’t dressed yet. I’m not out of the game yet. I can get her back into bed.

She rushes into the bedroom. Ah, my wife—my sexy, beautiful wife, wearing only panties and bra, her outfit for the day still on hangers in her hands.

I’m definitely still in the game.

She drops her clothes onto the chair in front of the full wall mirror, tosses her cell onto a table and then hurries across the room to me.

“How long have you been awake?” she asks, placing a fast kiss on my lips and then moving out of reach back in front of the dressing mirror.

I lock eyes with her in the glass. “Not long. Why didn’t you wake me earlier? We had a deal. You’re mine first thing every morning before you start your day. It doesn’t even look like you’re going to have coffee with me today.”

She laughs and reaches for a blouse. “Wasn’t going to happen so I let you sleep. You got in late from New York last night. I started my period last night. Wasn’t going to happen this morning.”

“I don’t care if you’re on your period. You know that. Baby, it’s been four days since we’ve been together.”

She makes a face. “You should care if I get my period, Alan. Because of my age, my best health option is getting my tubes tied. Why don’t you just get snipped? It’s easier for you to get cut. Until you do that, you better care a lot every time I get my period.”

I rake a hand through my hair as I shake my head. “Very funny. Don’t even joke about that.”

She laughs.

I stare at her. “Come to bed, Chrissie. I feel cheated. I’m on the road in ten days. I don’t want to waste a single morning I have with you before I leave.”

She stops what she’s doing. She runs her teeth over her lower lip several times as she studies me. Hmm, she’s thinking about it. It’s going to be a miserable four months without her now that I know again the pleasure of always being with her.

“Come back to bed, baby,” I whisper, my voice raspy and low in that way that usually gets me my way with her.

She exhales loudly. “I can’t. My moderately overloaded day just turned into major overload and shitstorm.”

She sounds upset. No point in pushing. It’s not going to happen. I pour a cup of coffee and wait for her to explain what the hell has happened now.

I sip my coffee and watch her dress. I wish I could have a smoke without going out onto the patio. That’s not going to happen either. Other than learning to fuck on a schedule and smoking outside it’s been a hassle-free transition: my living here, the kids, and us being married.

Chrissie wanted to move slowly for the kids, but somehow we ended up marrying three weeks after I landed in California. And her worry over this change proved unnecessary. The kids didn’t think anything about it. They were all pretty cool with it when we told them we were getting married, and it’s working out well, surprisingly well.