Chapter 4
4
STEPHANIE
Stephanie was thoroughly enjoying her conversation with Lance, completely enraptured with the fascinating man who seemingly came out of nowhere, appearing in her life. His voice was warm and inviting, running over her like the finest warm silk. Those eyes were intense and welcoming and looked at her with a fondness and longing that was everything.
They were on their fourth expresso martini; she was feeling extremely languid when everything took a turn suddenly.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, leaning forward and whispering in her ear. The feeling of his breath against her skin made her shiver in delight and awareness – even if his words made her heart sink .
“I’d love to… but no,” she replied and saw him hesitate with a strange look of comprehension on his face.
“You’re waiting.”
It wasn’t an accusation.
Lance wasn’t upset. There was a look of understanding, respect, and admiration in his gaze that didn’t make her feel embarrassed about being innocent and believing in the sanctity of marriage.
“I am,” she said firmly in a gentle voice. “I know my value, and I don’t intend to throw it away. Life is precious – and love even more so. Someday, I will get married to someone special who recognizes that I’m his person, his partner, his someone that he’s been waiting for, and he deserves to know that I respect him enough to wait.”
“You know, making love and actually being in love don’t have to go hand-in-hand.”
“Then you aren’t making love,” she said sadly, surprised that he uttered those words.
“And you didn’t let me finish again, my lovely librarian,” he chided tenderly, touching her cheek. “They don’t go hand-in-hand because people like you are rare indeed. You make me feel ashamed that I’ve ignored my deepest wants because…”
“Because why?” she interrupted again and saw his smirk. “Sorry.”
“Because I’m lonely,” he admitted quietly. “I throw myself into the mix, looking for friendship and companionship, but always come up short. I’ve found out over the years you can be in a room full of people surrounded by conversation, but some people don’t understand you - or don’t try to get to know you. They take one look at you, how you act, and have already made up their mind long before you’ve said a word. ”
Her lips parted in surprise at his uncanny understanding. She had been in groups, at parties, at events and was always the wallflower or the ‘purse holder’ because others would take off and melt into the crowds, yet the only people who ever talked to her were the ones who deemed her as unworthy and she knew it. No one who was actually interested in getting to know her actually took the time to chat with her – except Lance.
And he was lonely?
He was feeling the same way she did?
“How are you lonely?” she whispered, disbelief clouding her judgment. “I mean, you are… gorgeous. People surround you, cheer at you when you do keg stands, and you’ve got friends with you. They are here, all around you.”
“You too,” he reminded her, his thumb caressing her jaw. “You are here with friends, and while they talk to you and hang out around you, there is still something off-putting there no matter how hard they try to include you. It feels like pity to me – and that is hard to explain without it sounding weird.” There was a humble, pained look on his face as he met her eyes warily. “Please don’t repeat this or say something. I don’t want to hurt them because they are good guys deep down inside. I mean, when I’m on the ship, I talk to my buddies, but there’s a difference, too. Orion has his secrets. Tic-Tak is like a brother to Memphis and Shellac? Well, he’s Shellac… and goofy as heck. That man has a screw loose somewhere upstairs, and we all know it.”
Stephanie didn’t say anything. She was too busy processing his words, thinking of her own situations, her own sense of self. He was right. You could be close to someone yet alone – and she’d experienced that several times over the last few years. When they tried to go out of their way to include you – and you felt like you didn’t fit – it did come across as almost pitying, and she had thought that before.
“What are you thinking?”
“I think I would like to get to know the real you better.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he smiled tenderly at her, before leaning forward to kiss her cheek. The feeling of his warm lips along with the combination of alcohol in her system made her extremely forward. Stephanie turned toward him as he pulled back slightly… and both hesitated with awareness.
Lance was right there, his lips perched over hers with his head angled slightly, no longer backing away. Stephanie was there, waiting, wishing he would close the gap between them. She desperately wanted him to kiss her, to magically be the ‘one’ for her, even though warning bells were going off in her mind.
“Are you sure… about this?”
“It’s just a kiss.”
“Not to me, it’s not,” he said hoarsely. “I really like you. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen? I want us to talk after we say our goodbyes at the end of the night. Maybe we could stay in contact, and I could take you out for dinner or something?”
“I would really like that,” she whispered, waiting.
“Then how come neither of us is moving?” he chuckled softly, still remaining where he was, so close to her lips.
“I don’t want to break the spell…” she whispered thickly, as a trembling hand reached out to touch his hairline at his temple and then caressed his ear, before tracing the nape of his neck. It was like touching a warm, beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful statue like you’d see in a museum – yet he was warm, breathing, alive. His eyes were churning wi th intensity as he stared at her, his breath broken as he waited, immovable.
“What if this spell, this moment, lasted for hours or days,” he invited huskily. “This feeling inside of both of us… what if I promised I could make sure it was something neither of us forgot.”
“I would be interested.”
“Then let’s grab at the first real companionship I’ve felt in a long while and go to your hotel room.”
“Let’s get married,” she countered almost in a dare, her voice tinged with sadness because she knew there was no way someone like him would ever do it.
This man wasn’t the marrying type, and she knew it now. He might have said all the things she needed to hear, but she was also deeply pragmatic despite the dreamer within her heart and soul. No, he would always be sleeping around, finding a woman in every port, or…
“Fine,” he replied huskily, leaning closer to her as his breath mingled with hers. She could smell the coffee and alcohol on him, combined with a faint aroma of something else that made her want to curl her fingers into his shoulders, holding on tightly. “I can deal with you bringing me up to your level and straight out of the sewers. Let’s get married.”
Huh?
“Wait… what?” she exclaimed. Maybe she misunderstood him – or he misunderstood her?
Instead of commenting or speaking over him, she got very quiet. Almost like she was hiding from one of the dinosaurs from the movie Jurassic Park . Her breathing was labored; she held herself tightly, her face and neck froze in position, almost waiting for the predator to sniff her out and take a bite.
“Are you serious? Is this a joke?”
“I’ll marry you, and then we’re leaving here – together. Got it?”
The dinosaur was rounding the corner and sniffing the air, and she was mentally flailing like a muppet.
“Do I look like I’m joking?” he said huskily. “Trust me, my innocent little librarian – it’s going to be very obvious to anyone with eyes when I stand up to walk out of here what I intend to do behind closed doors with my new bride. Are you sure you want to marry me? I’m kind of a jerk and a real loser, but I promise that I’m a heckuva lover. I just don’t want you to think that I didn’t warn you.”
Stephanie looked at him, searching his eyes, and realized he wasn’t kidding. He would really marry her in order to get to sleep with her – and she was really tempted to do that very thing either way.
“Where are we going to find someone to marry us at this hour?” she asked hoarsely and saw his knowing smile as he looked over his shoulder.
“Hey, Pasteur!” Lance hollered bluntly, and a sailor who was holding two glass beer steins, one in each hand, looked over to them in surprise. The man blinked several times – and then waved a stein, wobbling slightly, before taking a big sip to keep it from sloshing. “Hey – are you still licensed, and it’s current?”
“As a pastor? Yeah. Why?”
“I’m getting married – right now.”
And you could have heard a pin drop in the bar. Every head swiveled to the two of them in shock, and Stephanie almost wished she could crawl under the table at their confused, surprised, and stunned faces – only to hear all the sailors explode in excitement as a rousing cheer went up.
“Heck yeah! ”
“That’s my boy!”
“Trophy is getting hitched?!”
“Drink up, boy-o! We’re celebrating!”
“Wait,” Stephanie blurted out in confusion. “He’s a pastor? He’s completely trashed and drunker than a skunk. Is this even legal?”
“Pasteur, are you drunk?”
“I’m drinking – yes. Are you asking if I am inebriated?”
“Yeah, I am,” Lance replied, chuckling as he winked at Stephanie. “The man is a stickler for details. So, Pasteur, we need to know if you are inebriated?”
“Not in the slightest. I’m of French-Canadian descent. We do nothing but drink and smoke in the wintertime because there’s nothing else to do during the heavy snows.”
“How’s he Canadian and a U.S. sailor?”
“I asked the same thing a few years ago. The dude holds dual citizenship. His parents have green cards and live in Louisiana not too far from where I grew up. They relocated when he was fifteen or sixteen, I think. The man abhors snow with a passion.”
“Let me get this straight,” she whispered, her mind spinning. “Your friend is conveniently a sailor, who is French, who is named Pasteur… but is a pastor?”
“Yes,” he chuckled, grinning. “The man is a rock – and a twerp.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it,” Lance smiled, winking at her from nearby. “You threw down the gauntlet, and I’ve scooped it up.”
He finished speaking just as the bartender set down two more drinks before them. She didn’t know what they were this time – and didn’t care. This dreamy, gorgeous guy wanted her and was willing to do things on her terms ?
Stephanie picked up the glass and looked at Lance, who did the same.
“To marriage?”
“To marriage.”
Both downed their glass a moment later.
Lance stood up, wobbling slightly, and held out his hand to her. She took it, completely unsure that her knees would hold her, and the room was spinning. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk that last whatever-it-was or any of the espresso martinis; but as she looked up at Lance, he was there, holding her gaze, pulling her forward out of the corner, and she felt safe in his eyes.
She felt hands patting her on the back, heard all the congratulations surrounding them, and heard Pasteur’s words as he spoke, binding them.
“Do you, Trophy, take the new Mrs. Trophy for your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, for so long as you both shall live?” Pasteur was saying and nodded at her. “What’s your name and address, dumplin’?”
“Stephanie Michelle Wood,” she whispered. “What’s that for?”
“I take my blessings seriously – and being able to unite two people is a big deal to me. When I get back to my bunk, I’ll fill out the license and mail it to you.”
“Oh.”
“Yup. I don’t fool around,” he beamed. “I think the Lord would be really upset if I didn’t take this seriously.”
“I imagine,” she whispered numbly, looking at the blur of people surrounding her and worrying if this was what destiny or fate looked like. Just a weird pairing of two people who were promising to be faithful to each other.
“Trophy, you got anything you want to say in your vows?” Pasteur asked bluntly, drawing her out of her reverie.
“Nope. I do this freely, without hesitation, and I’m gonna make sure my wife enjoys this and doesn’t regret it in the morning.” A roar of laughter and ribald comments went up around them, making Stephanie a little nervous. Why was she moving forward with this?
“Do you, Stephanie Michelle Wood, A.K.A Mrs. Trophy, do you take ma’ boy to be your husband? He’s a great guy that can run his mouth with the best of them, but deep down, he’s a winner – even if he’s a loser on the outside.”
“Thanks, Pasteur,” Lance grimaced. “’Preciate the vote of confidence.”
“Hey, I think you should do this. This leaves all the ladies for the rest of us single guys,” the aviator joked openly, and she saw Lance hesitate right before he nodded, looking at her.
“Changing your mind, my little Librarian?” Lance said gently, holding her hands in his. “If you are going to back out, now is the time to do it.”
“I’m not – I mean, I do.”
“You sure?”
“I am, I do ,” she stressed, embarrassed that he might have misunderstood her or ruined things. “I really do do and want to do…” and felt her face heat up as several around them laughed at her words – except Lance. His eyes were warm and tender, his gaze steady, as he smiled softly at her.
“I want to do , too,” he whispered and she felt tears sting her eyes, unable to look away.
“I want to do , too.”
“We are – and we’ll do .”
“Are you sure? ”
“Are you?”
“I think I am,” she admitted, gulping nervously as Pasteur spoke over them.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife – can someone get me an ink pen? I think this one dried up,” the sailor exclaimed over his shoulder. “And another beer to celebrate my bro!”
As a wild cheer of elation went up, Lance stepped toward her. Before she could say anything or knew what was going on, he was leaning into her face, and she almost darted back to cup her hand over her mouth to check her breath.
Nope , she mused as warm lips came in contact with her own, and she melted. The taste of alcohol mixed with the coffee flavor was heady – especially when combined with him. No, you didn’t have to be experienced in kissing to be able to tell something more was there as he opened his mouth, tasting hers. Her arm went around his shoulders as the other clutched his bicep, only to feel him dip her.
The unexpected movement was startling, and in her tipsy state, it felt like the planet was one big bowling ball rolling down the gutter of some mysterious lane in the sky. She broke the kiss, throwing back her head in delight, laughing happily and felt him kiss her throat just before he stood her back up, bringing her closer to him.
“What hotel?” he breathed.
“Across the street,” she volunteered, not holding back as her pulse raced with excitement, disbelief, and wonder. Lance didn’t say another word; he simply turned, clasping her hand in his, and dragged her out of the bar into the night air.
The city was taking on a life of its own, glowing with fervor as the hours passed. She had never seen anything quite so beautiful and while she had admired it before, being happy seemed to bring something more to the stage. The lights were brighter, the smells sharper, and the sounds more intense than ever before.
Lance looked over his shoulder at her, pulling her forward as they jaywalked across the street through traffic. The cars were there, hovering and waiting for the light to change in the distance, as they were snaking through the series of bumpers, getting to the other side of the street.
“This one?” he asked bluntly.
Stephanie nodded, moving forward to take the lead now as she dug in her purse to get out her keycard. He was pushing the elevator button several times as if that would get the car to hurry on its slow descent. She almost said something but then chuckled. Why bother? She wanted him to be as happy and excited as she was, and he was, wasn’t he?
As the elevator doors opened, she stepped inside and heard Lance right behind her. A part of her expected him to suddenly be all over her, yet she met his eyes in the mirrored wall before her and didn’t bother to turn around.
“What floor?” he whispered, holding her gaze.
“Sixteen.”
“Nice,” he began huskily and took a step toward her in the reflection. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she felt his breath on the back of her neck as his arm slipped around her in a possessive manner. “You smell so good.”
“Pert Plus,” she volunteered and winced. That wasn’t sexy at all to admit you weren’t wearing any perfume. Instead, she had done the exact opposite and told him the scent of her shampoo. Loooooser , she thought for a brief second only to hear his chuckle.
“Love that stuff,” he whispered, kissing the shell of her ear tenderly. “I use it too, but it never smelled like this to me before now.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some killer coconut conditioner that really… oh,” she blabbed and then paused as his hand untucked her blouse slowly in the reflection. “Oh, um, well, hello.”
“Hello,” he smiled softly at her, waiting. “Just a little prep work.”
“Untucking my blouse?”
“Maybe.”
“And should I do a little prep work on you?” she asked huskily, unsure if she was doing something wrong, only to see him close his eyes for a brief moment as the elevator dinged. A moment later, the doors parted as he met her eyes again. “Did I say something wrong?”
“We should probably be behind closed doors for any other prep work,” he whispered, his voice choked and husky.
Lance put a hand on her hip, walking out of the elevator with her and guiding her forward. If this was the lamb being led to the slaughter, she was one of those baby lambs prancing right along with a bunch of happy little hops beside her favorite big bad wolf.
Boing!
Boing!
Boing!
Not one date she had ever been on had been this intense, nor breathtakingly wonderful, in so many strange ways. She had never felt anyone’s hand on her hip, had never seen anyone’s eyes fill with desire for her, nor had she felt so beautiful in someone’s gaze… but she did in his eyes.
She felt special, beautiful, and treasured in Lance’s eyes – and for that alone, she would have crossed so many lines in her mind, body, and soul. He was temptation, and she was weak.
“Here we are,” she whispered nervously, coming to a stop before the door and then hesitated. “I’m sharing a room with two other women.”
“Those two from the bar?”
“Yes.”
“They’re not coming back here this evening,” he chuckled knowingly. “We’ll set the deadbolt, and they can find somewhere else to go.”
“They won’t be mad?”
“Trust me,” he smiled softly. “Neither of us will care shortly.”
“Oh.”
Lance took her hand holding the hotel room key – and moved it before the lock, causing it to blink green. He opened the door and waited like some dark angel tempting her.
Is this what Eve felt like in the Garden?
“Lance…” she said suddenly, turning to look at him. “This is not some joke, right? This is real. The marriage was real. You aren’t about to turn into some psycho killer or hurt me, right?”
He closed the door slowly behind them, his eyes holding hers.
“I’m no angel,” he admitted quietly. “I’m not the best guy, but I can tell you right now that this is not a joke. I’m not going to hurt you, and Pasteur is really a pastor. I’m no killer, but I’m no saint either. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and some things I would rather not revisit because I’m not proud of them, but you are safe.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I just wanted to make sure. ”
“Would you rather not move forward,” he asked gently. “I mean, if you’ve changed your mind – I really need to know now. If we make love, I don’t want you freaking out on me or crying foul later.”
“I… ah, haven’t changed my mind,” she whispered. “We’re married now, for better or for worse, remember? Your ‘worse’ is now in your past. This is day one of a new life, a new world together.”
“Sure,” he chuckled softly, smiling knowingly… and began unbuttoning his shirt as he walked across the room toward her. “Shall I show you my very best?”
Stephanie wasn’t sure she was breathing anymore. The look in his eyes, the tenderness of his smile, and that swagger, as he moved closer, was devastating.
He’d unbuttoned his shirt; maybe she was supposed to do the same? As her hands nervously moved to unfasten the first little pearl at the bottom of her blouse, he stopped her. Her eyes shot to his as he lowered his dark head toward her.
“Don’t do that,” he breathed against her lips.
“I thought that you…” and her voice failed her as her hands immediately dropped, trembling.
“I do,” he began, filling the space between them as he slowly dropped a kiss at the corner of her lips, along the bridge of her nose, and then caressed her cheek with his nose, breathing deeply and sighing. “I love that smell… but you aren’t supposed to unbutton your shirt yet.”
“Why?”
“You are my ‘gift’ to unwrap…” he whispered against her lips before kissing her deeply.
Stephanie melted.