After the Loving. Gwynne Forster

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      She sat on a stair step, waiting for him and ruminating about his protectiveness. He was responsible for the house and the family in Telford’s absence. Maybe that accounted for it.

      “It’s okay. Be sure and take my cell phone number in case you need me for something.”

      “Thanks.”

      He stood at the bottom of the stairs, and she sat on the third step, but he still towered over her. She looked up at him, seeing his long-lashed and slumberous dark eyes, full bottom lip and square but dimpled chin; the muscled chest that emphasized his six-foot-three-and-a half-inch height, his long legs, flat belly and the aura of power that he exuded. She sucked in her breath and knew he saw and heard her.

      His breathing accelerated, and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously. Her tongue rimmed her bottom lip, and he seemed to gulp air. He wanted her, and she wanted him inside of her. Disgusted with herself for having started it and for her inability to control her passion for him, she jumped up and raced up the stairs. But he reached the landing when she did, pulled her into his arms and lifted her hungry body to his, chest to chest and loins to loins.

      “Russ. Oh, my Lord.”

      He stared down at her, his nostrils flaring, his eyes telling her what she knew his mouth wouldn’t say. His lips were so close that she breathed his breath, and her senses swirled dizzily as her nostrils caught the odor of his heat. Spirals of unbearable tension snaked through her and, frustrated beyond reason, she put her hands behind his head and brought his lips to meet hers, open and waiting.

      He plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she took all that he would give her, as he tested and tasted every centimeter, swirling and tantalizing until she moaned the agony of her desire.

      Recovering as best she could, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Stop playing with me, Russ. You give in to your feelings when they overwhelm you, but you don’t want this to go anywhere.”

      “I am not playing with you. Whether you were aware of it or not, you gave me one of the most seductive invitations a man could get. You know how things are with us. What was I supposed to do? Pretend you weren’t there?”

      His arms tightened around her and she kissed the side of his neck. “You’re famous for your self-control, so—”

      “So I decide when to use it. Is that what you’re accusing me of?”

      She leaned back and gazed into his face. So close and so precious. “Don’t you?”

      His rough half laugh almost startled her. “I would have gotten to you if I’d had to jump over a mile-deep ravine. Decision had nothing to do with it.” A grin spread over his face. “I suppose I ought to put you down.”

      “Yes, considering how much I weigh.”

      “It probably gets less every day, considering how little you’re eating.”

      “That’s the problem. I haven’t lost an ounce, and I’m hungry all the time.”

      “Then stop being vain and eat. Losing weight won’t change your personality and probably not your face. They’re what I find most attractive in you or any other woman. I’d better get dressed if I’m going to Tara’s school.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Be careful driving.”

      She had told him she hadn’t lost weight, but she had actually gained a pound. “If this continues, I’m going to see a nutritionist,” she vowed to herself. “Henry, I’ll be in Baltimore most of the day,” she called to him from the kitchen door.

      “Ain’t no need for that. Russ is working at the warehouse today.”

      “Henry, I am not going to Baltimore to avoid Russ.”

      “You are so. He’s running from you, and you’re running from him, though I can’t for the life of me see what the two of you are running for. Any adult who’s around you for ten minutes can slice the heat with a knife, it’s so thick.”

      “That’s not very consoling, Henry.”

      “I ain’t supposed to console you. That’s Russ’s job. I’m just watching the two of you postpone the inevitable. Soon as Tel and Alexis get back here and start showing you how nice it can be… You just watch. I ain’t saying no more.”

      After determining that Henry didn’t need anything from Baltimore, she started on her journey, shocked to have discovered that Russ had driven the car out of the garage and positioned it so that she wouldn’t have to back out.

      “I could love that guy,” she said to herself, and not for the first time. “He’s everything I need, but I don’t believe he’s even thinking about developing a relationship with me, to say nothing of marrying me.”

      In Baltimore, she made her first stop at a real estate company that specialized in small business needs. After settling with the agent as to what she wanted, she headed for Layne Bryant’s, intent on seeing how she would look in jeans.

      She didn’t like the jeans, stretch or otherwise, and settled on two pairs of pants, one oxford gray and the other dark tan. She looked around until she found a sweater, below-hip length and very loose with one side tucked and held up with a self bow. She liked the design and bought lavender and burnt-orange versions of it. Then, she gathered her courage and went into the dress department, trying not to notice the beautiful caftans as she passed them. She saw a navy blue silk-crepe dress that had three-quarter-length sleeves, a fitted silhouette and flared ruffles at the hem. She tried it on and, encouraged, found a burnt-orange replica and bought both of them.

      Maybe I’ll never wear them, she thought, unless Alexis says they look all right. But what did her svelte sister know about what did or didn’t look right on a short, overweight woman? She put her parcels in the trunk of the car, bought a bag of miniature Snickers to make herself feel better and headed back to Eagle Park, munching as she drove, diet forgotten.

      She arrived at Harrington House half an hour before seven, heard Tara practicing the piano and rushed to her room to shower and change. She expected comments from Henry and Tara, but she prayed that Russ at least would keep his opinions to himself.

      When she got downstairs, feeling self-conscious in her brown pants and burnt-orange sweater, Tara greeted her, “Aunt Velma, Mr. Russ came to my school today and talked to my teachers and he brought me home from school, so I didn’t have to ride the bus. Mr. Russ loves me.”

      She knelt before the little girl and wrapped her arms around her. “Of course he loves you, all of us love you.”

      “You look pretty, Aunt Velma. Is Mr. Drake coming home tonight?”

      “No, dear. He’s gone to Barbados for a few weeks.”

      “Oh. He likes to go there a lot.”

      Tara took her hand and walked with her to the breakfast room where Russ and Henry waited for them. As soon as they sat down, Russ said grace.

      “Mr. Russ says my grace takes too long,” Tara said, blessing them all with her smiles and giggles.

      “Henry, this food is first class,” Russ said of the medallions of pork, saffron rice, artichoke hearts in cream sauce and asparagus.

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