c7

"You always surprise me," she said, turning her head to look up at him.
"Boys on bikes don't have dogs," he said. "Well, I can't have a dog right now. I'm always on a bike or at work. But kids need dogs—it's fundamental. It shows them how to take care of something, forces them to learn patience. Sometimes at the poor animal's expense."
"I've been thinking about something very crazy," she said. "I've been thinking of having a baby without a husband."
He pulled away and looked down into her eyes. "What are you going to do? Take applications?"
"No," she laughed. "Donor. Anonymous."
"You're to that point, Cassie? So sure you're not going to get married someday?"
"There's plenty of time left, but I doubt it," she said. "At least a few more years before the ticking clock gets real, real loud. But if I want a family, I don't have to take chances on scary men to have one. There are ways. And why not? I'm sure if I married, I'd continue to work, anyway—that hospital makes me feel like I'm doing something vital, and that's about the only thing my self-esteem has going for it. I sure don't get a pick-me-up from my figure…."
"You know, you say that a lot…. You act like you don't have a nice body. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes for half a second. You're very beautiful, Cassie. I wonder why you don't know it."
"I've gained twenty-five pounds since high school! And I considered myself chubby then. Of course, next to Jules and Beth and Marty—the skinny-assed girls—it was a terrible contrast!"
He kissed her temple. "You gained it in all the right places. I think you're perfect."
"I think you're hard up or blind," she said with a smile.
"I'm not either one," he said. "Wanna roll out the sleeping bags? We can talk all night or sleep, but you've shivered four times in the past few minutes."
"Yeah," she said. "Let's get cozy. You sure you can manage that fire? I'm a little scared about being at the mercy of armed felons and dune buggies."
"I got it," he said, getting their sleeping bags. "You don't have to worry. I've done this a hundred times and never had a bit of trouble." He threw another log on for good measure, sending the flames up.
So they rolled out the bags, shed their boots and jackets and crawled in. Once they were settled side by side, he grabbed her bag and pulled her up against him. Then he put a big, meaty arm under her head and snuggled her close. "Stay warm," he said.
This was more than body heat. His face was awful close to hers. He cradled her head atop his arm and his other arm was draped over her waist on top of the sleeping bag. He gave her just a moment and then slowly pressed his lips toward hers, gently giving her one of his tender, lovely kisses. Then another one. And then, for the first time since they'd met, he kissed more firmly, parting her lips with his and she couldn't help herself—she let her tongue think for itself and do a little exploring, bringing a deep moan of pleasure out of him. His tongue joined the party, and it was strong, hot and fabulous. Her arms escaped the sleeping bag and held him closer against her, kissing him deeply and wonderfully for a long, long moment. Many long moments, in fact.
When she finally escaped his lips, she said, "I don't think we should be doing this. We're supposed to be friends."
He laughed at her, a soft and gentle laugh. "Take it easy. You've kissed guys before without being engaged first," he said.
"I have," she admitted. "I've done more than this without being engaged."
"Then relax," he said. "I'm not going to take advantage of you, you know that. You're completely safe with me."
"You just don't know how nice that feels," she whispered. "I think it might be the first time since I was fourteen I haven't been all worried about everything. All the complications, the expectations, where it was going, all of it."
"You shouldn't have to worry. But I like kissing you."
"You know, my other best friend Marty—she's just about insane that her husband won't shave before getting in bed. You have a lot of hair and whiskers and it doesn't feel so bad."
He grinned against her lips. "I do own a razor," he said. "I'm rationing blades."
She giggled. "You like that three-day growth," she accused.
"That's partly true. It's kind of antisocial, don't you think?"
"It is." Then she kissed him a while longer. And kissed him and kissed him. Mouths open, tongues wild, penetrating, positively erotic kisses that went hard and soft, deep and shallow. "Phew. I haven't made out like this since high school. I had forgotten how great it feels. Tell me if I'm leading you on, Walt," she whispered against his lips. "Because this isn't going one inch further. And if we should stop…"
"Not an inch, huh?"
"For sure not on a beach in the possible presence of dune buggies," she said. "And I'm pretty sure nowhere else. I'm not looking for anything serious, you know that. But I'm also not a mannequin. I like to feel sweet and cozy like anyone else…and I have to admit, you've got kissing down."
"Even with the whiskers?"
"Maybe especially with the whiskers…."
"It's okay, Cassie. If you want to, we can make out all night long. I like it, too."
"You think this is a terrible mistake? I mean, we're just pals. Buddies. We have so much to talk about, to do together. We're not, you know…"
"It's not a mistake," he said, going after her lips some more. "In fact, I think it's a great idea."
  Oh, God, Cassie thought. I like him! Really, really like him. It wasn't just his kissing, which was incredible. It was all of him—his take on life, his tenderness, his simple wisdom, even his stupid, nutty hobby of riding all over the place on a motorcycle. And, of course, making out most of the night didn't exactly help diminish the strength of her emotions. They had kissed a long while, dozed, awakened to kiss more, slept, awakened to fix up the fire, and before going back to sleep, of course there was more cuddling and kissing. Deep and powerful, soft and sweet.
When she awoke in the early morning, dawn just breaking, with a huge urge to pee, he escorted her to an isolated place behind a big rock, turned his back and kept her safe from Peeping Toms and whatever. He cleaned up their campsite, got them ready to roll, but before they got situated back on the bike he lifted her chin, put a very chaste kiss on her lips and said, "Last night was one of the best nights of my life. Thank you."
"Walt," she laughed self-consciously. "If last night was one of your best ever, you're deprived. Seriously deprived."
"No," he said with a smile. "I'm a guy with a glass half-full. I'm optimistic."
"You shouldn't get ideas…."
"Come on, Cassie, even you had ideas." He ran a big hand down her black hair. "We just stuck to kissing. And it was damn good kissing. At least from my perspective."
Oh, God, she was going nuts. Nuts about him. He was sweet and good and gentle and so frickin' polite! She hadn't been out with a man in twelve years who would hold off like that, let her decide, be that much of a gentleman. Never! He was the absolute best!
And it was totally impossible. She'd had many a vision about her life as it would be when it finally shaped up. Her man would be about five-ten to six feet, he'd be well-groomed and polished, he'd make a decent living and have the potential to go as far as possible in his field. A firefighter or paramedic would be just great—solid, clean-cut, doing admirable work…. She'd dated a few of them with no results.
Walt was not like any of her friends. He looked like a social outcast, like he said. She couldn't imagine how Beth, Julie and Marty would find him. For that matter, she predicted that Billy would think she was out of her mind. And as far as the good living, he was a wrench. He had no potential at all.
Yet, every minute with him was so good….
Is this what Marty went through with Joe? she asked herself. A lovely, seductive man during the courting period, then the second you gave in, he became an unbearable slob who couldn't care less about your feelings? Walt looked like the kind of guy with so many rough edges that counting on him could be disastrous, totally disappointing.
But her lips were ruby red, her cheeks and chin a little chafed and all that romantic contact put her in a very pleasant frame of mind. She loved riding with him, stopping now and then for views, for food, for conversation. When he finally dropped her off at home and gave her that terrific kiss goodbye, she smiled into his eyes and said she'd had such fun.
She drove over to Julie's to pick up Steve and when Julie asked her how it was, she said, "It was terrific. We had great seafood, he packed Duraflames so we'd have a fire all night, it was peaceful and…and I think maybe I'm a camper, after all."
"Is he nice?" Julie asked.