Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
The summer passed far too quickly for Tess.
For every creative lovemaking scheme she dreamed up, Mac came up with one to match it.
She suggested a day trip to Phoenix. They checked into the honeymoon suite of a hotel where no one would know them and spent the day in bed.
He flew them up to Flagstaff where they hiked to a mountain meadow and made love in a field of daisies under a bright summer sky.
They experimented with velvet ropes, furry mittens and feather dusters. While they were in Phoenix they stopped into an X-rated boutique and dared each other to buy something. They came out of the shop with body paint and flavored massage oils.
The charged hours Tess spent with Mac seemed painted in brilliant color, while the rest of her life seemed to be cast in shades of gray.
She went through the motions of a normal summer, playing cards with her sisters-in-law every Wednesday night, baby-sitting for her nieces and nephews, having lunch with her mother, planning the surprise anniversary party for her parents.
But none of it seemed quite real, because she couldn’t tell those she cared about that a most significant and wonderful thing had happened to her — she was completely in love with Mac MacDougal.
And she wanted to tell the world. She especially longed to confide in her mother, who would be a great source of advice.
When her sisters-in-law discussed their husbands, whether in frustration or delight, Tess wanted to be a part of that conversation, to join the ranks of women openly, proudly in love.
Mac seemed just as involved with her as she was with him, although not a word of commitment ever came from his mouth.
During the hot weeks of summer, they shared everything, it seemed, except a future.
It was as if she were about to be shipped off to war and might never come back, so the subject of a happy-ever-after could never be broached.
Aside from that, she thought they were no different from any other couple just discovering passion and love, except that their relationship was known only to themselves.
At first she’d thought secrecy was essential to her summer project.
Sharing the secret with Mac had felt delicious and naughty.
Now she was sick of it. But she couldn’t tell.
Not ever, unless Mac agreed, and she couldn’t imagine him agreeing. And that made her soul ache.