CHANCE MARVELED at Andi’s generosity of spirit as she threw herself into their last full day as if there were no tomorrow. He’d never encountered that kind of resilience and he was both awestruck and fascinated.
In the morning she made love to him with gusto, and in the afternoon she taught him water ballet until she nearly drowned herself laughing as he gracefully pointed his toes in the air. Most women he’d known would have spent hours in hurt silence after a conversation like the one he’d had with Andi on the rear deck of the boat. But as the sun set behind the cliffs, ushering in their last night together, Andi was standing on the beach, instructing him on the finer points of the macarena.
The only problem was, he couldn’t imagine who he’d be dancing with once Andi was no longer a part of his life. But they’d come to an impasse. She apparently expected him to become some sort of beach bum, which was out of the question. As for transplanting her to Chicago, he’d pretty much given up that idea. She was probably right—their carefree relationship wouldn’t survive once he returned to the world of big-city business.
“You have a decent sense of rhythm, Jefferson,” she said, bobbing in time with him as they undulated through the moves of the dance, she in her black swimsuit and he in his bathing trunks.
“You should have seen my rendition of the hokeypokey in kindergarten. I put them all in the shade.”
“I’ll bet. You know what this dance would be good for?”
He kept up the rhythm. “Yeah. Slapping mosquitoes. Just got one.”
“I was thinking of people who work at computers all day. See how I’m moving my arms around?”
“I love watching you move your arms around. I love watching you move your everything around.”
“But think of it. If you called a macarena break every hour or so, they might not get that thing they get, you know—carpal tunnel syndrome.”
“Or how about a yoga break?” He stopped dancing and gazed at her.
“Well, I suppose.” Her glance was wary.
Despite what he’d vowed to himself, the idea was too good to ignore. “Come to Chicago, Andi. There are carpal tunnel sufferers in every office on Michigan Avenue. With your talent and charisma, you could build up a business in no time.”
She closed the distance between them and took his face in her hands. “And you? What would you be doing while I ran up and down Michigan Avenue in my tights and leotard?”
“Carrying your yoga mat.”
“Never kid a kidder, Chance.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. “You’d be working those fourteenhour days Nicole’s told me about. I’d be lucky to catch a glimpse of the tailored sleeve of your Armani suit jacket as you whipped by.”
He wound his arms around her and almost groaned aloud at the pleasure of pulling her close. “Wrong. I’d go without sleep before I gave up making love to you.”
“Did you hear what you just said?” she admonished, and kissed him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth before drawing away again.
“Yeah, I asked you to keep French-kissing me for about a hundred years, give or take a decade.”
“You offered to give up sleep. Not work. Sleep. No, my workaholic lover. I’m not adding myself to your packed schedule.”
“Then I’ll just have to kidnap you.” He delved into her lush mouth and tried to forget that tomorrow at this time he wouldn’t be able to kiss her. He wouldn’t be able to run his hand over her smooth back and cup her firm behind. He wouldn’t be able to pull down the straps of her swimsuit and kiss her warm breasts.
And he wouldn’t have to try to remember where he’d thrown the box of condoms when he’d brought them down to the beach. During these last few hours, he’d considered stringing the box around his neck so he’d never be without, just in case she started doing what she was doing right this minute. She’d reached inside his swimsuit to caress him in ways that meant he’d better find that box, and fast.
“Wait,” he said, gasping as she fondled him with the exquisite talent he’d learned to associate with Andi. “Let me get the—” He glanced toward the towel where he remembered leaving the box of condoms. A raven was pecking at the box. “Hey! Scram!”
He ran, or more accurately, considering his aroused state, he lurched toward the towel. The raven took the box in its beak and flapped skyward. “Oh, no, you don’t, birdbrain!” He leaped like a star pass receiver and grabbed the box, wrenching it from the bird’s claws. Then he did a belly flop into the sand. It knocked the wind from him, but it wasn’t hitting his belly that caused him to grimace in pain.
“Chance?” She hurried over to him and crouched beside him. “Are you okay?”
“I think…I broke…my…pride and joy.”
“Turn over and let me look.”
He spit out some sand and struggled to draw a breath. “You’re laughing, aren’t you?”
There was a muffled sound, and then she cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t laugh about a thing like this. Come on, roll over.”
He did, drawing another tortured breath in the process.
“Poor baby.” She brushed the sand from his heaving chest. “Knocked the breath right out of you.”
“Damn wildlife.”
“Let’s see if I can inflate you again.” She eased his swimsuit down. “Why lookee here! It’s a valve!”
Laughing made his chest hurt, but he couldn’t help it. “I think I squashed it.”
“Oh, I’ll bet it still works.”
Darned if she wasn’t right. Not long after she put her mouth there, he felt ready to explode. “Easy, Andi. Easy, sweetheart.”
She kissed her way up his chest and smiled down at him. “Time to put the cap on,” she said, taking the condom box from his unresisting fingers. She pulled out a cellophane-wrapped package. “Uh-oh. Beak holes.”
Chance groaned. “I don’t want to hear this. If that featherbrain ruined all of them…”
“Uh-oh. More beak holes.”
Chance struggled to a sitting position. “Let’s see.”
“I have a better idea.” She grabbed the box and raced down to the water. “We’ll test them and find out if they leak.”
He eased his trunks over his erection and slowly got up to follow her. As he started toward the lake, he cursed the bird kingdom in general and ravens in particular. “Andi, I don’t know if—” Whap! A water-filled condom hit him in the face. “Hey!”
“It had a leak, but I hated to waste such a perfect water balloon,” she said, laughing.
“Water balloons,” he mumbled, heading toward her again. Bam! Another bulging condom hit him on the chin.
“Another leaker,” she called out gaily.
He was dripping. “I’m trying to make love to one of the Marx Brothers,” he muttered to himself. Another water-swollen condom sailed toward him, but he ducked and caught it It didn’t break. Good. He needed some ammunition.
“Leak city,” she sang out, busy with her experiment at the edge of the water.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t want that valve job, after all,” he said, approaching her. He held the filled condom behind his back.
“I do.” She glanced up at him, her expression impish. “I just don’t want any surprises, if you know what I mean.”
He dropped to his knees in the shallow water and grabbed her. “Too bad.” He broke the water-filled condom over her head, soaking her hair.
She shrieked and struggled in his grip as water dripped down her face. “No fair!”
“You’re a fine one to talk. Now kiss me, and make it quick.”
She stopped struggling and turned her face up to his, her expression seductive.
“That’s better.” He started to kiss her just as a condom of water broke over his head. “Ah!” He lifted his head and shook the water from his eyes as she giggled. “Okay, that does it.” He scooped her up.
“Wait!” She struggled and kicked. “Put me down! No fair using superior strength.”
“If you can be sneaky, I can be macho.” He waded out until the water licked his thighs. Then he dropped her with a splash. “Whoops.”
She floundered around and finally staggered upright, sputtering, her hair streaming in her eyes. Then she pushed him. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t keep his balance, and he went under.
As he came up, he grabbed her and tugged her in with him as she squirmed and flailed in his arms. “Were any of those damn things any good?”
“One!” she said, gasping and trying to get away from him.
“Where is it?”
“In my—oh, no, there it goes!”
“Where?”
“I tucked it in the front of my suit. It’s floating away!”
“Where?” Chance lunged through the dancing, starflecked water. Several times he imagined he saw the floating condom, but nothing was there.
“It’s over there!” Andi pointed to her left.
“I don’t see it. Oh, God, where did it go?”
“Here. I found it.”
“Where is it?”
She stuck out her tongue. The condom was on it. And he was pretty sure it had never floated away in the first place.
“Oh, you’re asking for it.” He advanced on her.
She pulled the condom off her tongue and backed up, grinning all the while. “Just a little joke.”
“Uh-huh. And now it’s my turn.”
She chuckled as she continued to back toward shore. “You should have seen yourself looking for it.”
“I’m sure I was a riot.” He stalked her patiently as his blood heated.
“Actually, there’s more than one.”
“Now that’s hilarious. I was killing myself and it wasn’t even the last one.”
“I left a couple in the box.”
“I’m only interested in the one in your hand.”
“This one?” Smiling, she held it up.
“That one.” He launched himself at her and grabbed the condom as they both tumbled down in the shallow water. He was on her in a second, peeling her suit off as she squirmed in the wet sand. She was no match for him, and he soon tossed the suit up on the beach.
“Chance!” she said, panting, “I’ll get sand in my hair!”
Holding her with his upper body, he wrenched away his suit and snapped the condom on. “When this is over, I’ll wash it for you, strand by strand. But by God, we’re doing this right here, right now.” And as the water lapped at their bodies, he buried himself in her.
This could be the last time. The sudden thought pierced the red haze of his passion. Everything in him rebelled at the idea of never loving her again.
“I need you, Andi,” he murmured into her ear.
“You have me.”
“When you come to visit Nicole—”
“No. I won’t spoil this with scattered, stolen moments.”
“Andi.” Her name had become a plea.
“Make love with me, Chance.” She began to rock gently against him. “Because I need you, too.”