ASSUMPTIONS

By DixieHellcat

(Part 3)

+++

Lyneve was taken aback when Kenny closed his phone up and said, “They’re on their way. Bel an’ Clay, they’re comin’.” She sat beside him on the slick faux-leather sofa in the office of Lucas Todd, the hospital administrator, and just stared for a moment. As much as she would love to believe Clay Aiken himself was riding in on a big black stallion to rescue her from the clutches of these morons, cold reality and reason dictated that that was not likely to happen. Even if he sent, say, someone from a lawyer’s office to help her, though, that was more than she would imagine.

She had never sat around and waited to be rescued, and did not intend to start now. She pulled the letter from Dr. Lopez out of her purse, elbowed her way past two huge security guards, and slapped it down on the big desk. The man seated behind it looked as slick as his sofa, and listened about as well. He folded his hands and gazed down his nose at her while once more she explained the results of the tests. “I’m not interested in whatever you paid someone to write down for you, madam,” he sighed. “I’m not about to get this hospital in Dutch with the police. I’m also not a medical man, so what you’re saying might as well be Mandarin Chinese to me, and probably is about as reliable. You can plead your case to Detective Archer when he gets here. Till then, just sit down and shut up. I need to put in a call to the media, to be sure Sacred Heart’s commitment to ensuring the safety of our patients is duly noted.”

“You’re gonna be in a heap o’trouble, mister.” She had not heard Kenny get up and walk behind her. “I’m thinkin' it’d be a damn sight wiser of you not to be callin’ no newspapers an’ braggin’ on yourself just yet, ‘cause you’re liable to end up with fresh egg all over your face.”

Todd did not look up. “Can it, Hee Haw.”

Kenny shrugged. “At least it’s that Detective Archer, Lyneve. He’s got some sense, I believe he’ll listen to you.”

As he spoke she heard a brief exchange of voices outside the closed door, which then opened, and a tall, thin black man entered. His suit was rumpled, but his bearing was as professional as Lucas Todd’s was smarmy, for all of Todd’s expensive and neatly pressed haberdashery. The most remarkable thing about him was his look of surprise when he saw Kenny standing beside her. “Hello, Kenny. What are you doing here? I thought we had a talk about this very thing.”

“Yessir, we did.” Lyneve felt Kenny tense, but his voice was calm, almost frighteningly so. “An’ I agreed with you, whole hog. I couldn’t figure how Lyneve here could of got in here without folks seein’ her, but I studied on it an’ then I remembered. I, uh, heard tell ‘round here that she an’ Sunny left out through a fire door, that’s left open all the time so’s second and third shift can go get their tobacco fix an’ get back in—“

“That’s a lie,” Todd interjected. “We follow all fire codes to the letter. That door had to have been left open deliberately, possibly by this troublemaker.”

Kenny’s fair face went another shade lighter, but he didn’t even turn around. “It’s not a lie, sir. You ask any janitor, housekeeper or tech.”

“Janitors,” Todd sneered under his breath.

Lyneve was heartened to see the detective’s eyes flick toward the desk and his mouth quirk as if in distaste, before he returned his attention to Kenny. “So, since she left through that door, you thought it stood to reason she might come back in through it.”

“Yessir, an’ I wanted to catch her ‘fore she did somethin' dumb, ‘specially since I heard she had got back some medical tests that showed what Sunny’s got.”

“Really?” Archer’s focus shifted to Lyneve.

“Really,” she nodded, ignoring the administrator’s mumbles. “And if you can persuade this idiot to get Sunny’s doctor down here, I think he or she will understand these lab results even better than I. The disorder is rare, but—“

Archer looked interested. She handed him the lab report and opened her mouth to explain further, but was interrupted by a renewed bustle in the hallway. The door burst open, and six feet one inch of tightly coiled redheaded fury descended like a divine messenger of wrath in baggy sweats and green tennis shoes. ”Lucas Todd, I presume?” Clay snapped as he strode up to the administrator’s desk, then turned away toward the threesome standing before it. “And you are?” he inquired of the only stranger there.

“Lou Archer, LAPD.” The detective’s face was straight, but was that a hint of a smile Lyneve saw quirk his cheek? “You must be Clay Aiken. Glad to meet you, although not under the circumstances. We knew you had an interest in this case, but given your, ah, position, the chief decided you shouldn’t be bothered.”

“Too bad. Maybe then things wouldn’t have spiraled completely out of control, the way they seem to have. I understand Miss Holt has a diagnosis for her daughter, so why isn’t she workin’ with the medical staff to aggressively pursue it, instead of standin’ here lookin’ as if she’s about to be handcuffed like a common criminal?” The thought unnerved Lyneve, but it blew by her, Clay talked so fast. “And while we’re on the subject, it looks like you’re considerin’ doin’ the same to my personal assistant, who’s here on my directions to—“

“Huh?” Kenny burst out. Lyneve was surprised to see the therapist she had met in Sunny’s room with her arms around his waist; evidently she had come in with Clay. In spite of the gravity of her situation just now, she could not help but note that this whole grouping was getting more interesting by the minute! “Clay—what’re you doin’, you didn’t do no such a thing—“

“Of course I did, and I’ll take responsibility for it. Kenny figured out how Lyneve had gotten into Sunny’s room, so I sent him to head her off, keep her out of trouble, and bring her back to my home so I could hear her side of the story.” Kenny’s face went slack with shock. So he’s Clay’s personal assistant now? Lyneve marveled. Curiouser and curiouser, but in a fun way!

“Well, she was just about to share that with us, so your timing is excellent,” Detective Archer smoothly put in.

Clay inclined his head slightly, with a regal air that made every hot fantasy Lyneve had ever had about him rush back, at this most inopportune time. It didn’t help when she felt his big hand slip across her back and come to rest on her hip. Despite herself, she shivered, not so much from fear as from inappropriate, damnable excitement, and Clay pulled her even closer to his side. She pulled herself together and took the lab report back from Archer. “I wanted to translate it before I brought it over, so that’s been part of the delay. Dr. Lopez lived here in LA for ten years, but he worked primarily in the Hispanic community, so his English is not so great.”

“And we’re supposed to believe some goat-gland guy in a dusty lab coat on a back street in Tijuana,” Todd sneered.

Clay turned, slowly. “Isn’t a large part of the community Sacred Heart serves Hispanic?” he asked coolly. “I don’t think you want to tick them off, and that’s exactly what will happen if they find out you have an attitude like that toward doctors who don’t conform to your rules of location. See this?” He reached in his hoodie pocket. “This is a cel phone. My cel phone. It has speed dial. My speed dial has a lot of very interesting people on it. National news reporters, talk show hosts… all manner of folks who would just love a nice tip from me on the racist attitudes of a major hospital, to spice up their May sweeps ratings.”

“Are you threatening me?” Todd tried to bluster. “What are you, some ambulance chaser? You want money, is that it?”

Clay actually giggled. “Not meanin’ to brag, but I’d say I’ve got more money than I personally can ever spend. Although what Miz Holt does is her business. Now, you were sayin’, Lyneve?”

She acknowledged him with a small smile and a nod, and continued. “What he found, though—“

“Wait a minute, wait just a Goddamned minute!” Todd stood up behind his desk, sputtering.

“Please!” Clay groaned. “Do you have to take the Lord’s name in vain?” Maribel nearly choked on a snicker.

“And who the fuck are you anyhow, mister?” Todd demanded.

This time Maribel could not contain her laughter. “Clay, aren’t you always wishing you could go somewhere that people wouldn’t recognize you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t anticipatin’ it’d happen now!” he growled. Lyneve was interested in seeing how he would continue, but he didn’t get the opportunity. The door flew open again, and Dr. Kelso, the chief of medicine, rushed in, accompanied by a woman.

“Mr. Aiken, Mr. Aiken!” he gasped, pumping Clay’s hand. “I had no idea—what in God’s name is going on here?”

Clay all but threw up his hands, as if the battle against profanity were becoming useless. “That’s what I’m tryin’ to find out. Miss Holt here is tryin’ to present some medical results that might get her little girl well, but we keep bein’ interrupted by Mr. Todd over there.”

Todd started to sputter again. “Shut up, Lucas,” the old doctor snapped. “You’re in way over your head here. We should never have let the archbishop talk us into putting you in here just because you were his nephew. Oh, and Mr. Aiken, please meet my, uh, daught—I mean niece—“

“Friend,” the very young woman in a very short skirt simpered and clung to Clay’s hand. “I’m such a huge fan, Clay, you’re just wonderful, and your voice, it’s so—so pure—“

He smiled charmingly, then disentangled his fingers from hers. Lyneve, on the other hand, tried not to groan. You’d think she could’ve been original instead of quoting Gladys Knight, wouldn’t you? “Why don’t you tell Dr. Kelso what you’ve got, Lyneve?”

No time for thudding now—this was real life, her baby’s real life. “I worked with Dr. Lopez through the state system, until he moved back to Mexico to care for his sick mother, and opened a clinic there. Rare childhood diseases are a special interest of his. He ran many tests with Sunny, one of which was collagen typing. It came back abnormal. That, in combination with the signs she shows, led him to make a diagnosis of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. It’s a hereditary defect in the connective tissue of the body. It can cause all of Sunny’s symptoms. In fact, if I could get out from under the thumb of the law and get back into Children’s Services files, I suspect I might be able to prove her mother had it also. She was never autopsied—it was assumed she was beaten to death—but if she also had EDS a fall that would only bang up you or me could have killed her.”

Dr. Kelso nodded slowly as he listened; then his sharp eyes pinned Clay. “What is your stake in this, young man? I would think you’d be more interested in selling millions more records.”

“I’m interested in much more than that.” Clay seemed almost amused. “I won’t stand by and see a child not get the medical care she needs because someone in a suit is more involved in grandstanding for the media. And I won’t stand by and see an innocent woman demonized for the same reason.”

Lucas Todd was red-faced and speechless with anger. Dr. Kelso ignored his fumes. “Well, we’ll certainly test immediately to confirm this, uh, Dr. Lopez’ diagnosis. I’ll take this to the lab myself, and stand over them with a whip until they get it done. Collagen testing usually takes longer, but I think we can have something in a few hours. Shall we adjourn upstairs? I’m sure you want to see your daughter, Miss Holt, and perhaps Mr. Aiken would like to accompany you? Your friends too, naturally, though they should probably wait out on the floor. We don’t want to stress the poor child with a crowd, now do we? Detective Archer, you’re welcome too, of course.” The burly and now confused security guards moved to follow the group. “You gentlemen won’t be needed. With a police detective and an international pop star in our midst, I doubt anyone is a flight risk. Dismissed.” Without a word to the administrator, Kelso led the way into the hallway.

En route to the elevators, Clay asked, “Dr. Kelso, you seem to have taken a sudden personal interest in this case. You asked what my stake in this was; what’s yours?”

“Mine? Why, of course, I am responsible for this hospital’s clinical function. Our standard of care must be upheld. And like you, I share a deep and abiding passion for justice—“

“And you’re suckin’ up to me,” Clay finished.

The chief of medicine stopped mid-syllable, then grinned a sudden conniving grin. “Is there a law against that?”

“Not at all,” Clay replied, shepherding Lyneve, Kenny, Maribel and the policeman into the elevator and punching the button for pediatrics. “But after the way you reamed out that little old lady volunteer in the gift shop awhile back, till you found out her son was a city commissioner, I kind of figured you weren’t just doin’ this out of the goodness of your heart.”

“What? How’d—you—“

The look on Kelso’s face as the elevator doors closed in his face was unbearably funny. Maribel began to giggle, and even Detective Archer deigned to snort. “I reckon you told him whatfor,” Kenny approved.

“Who, me?” Clay widened his eyes in mock innocence.

On the pediatric floor, a quiet word from Archer moved the police officer at Sunny’s door aside. “I’ll be down here in the waiting area if anything comes up,” Archer told Clay.

“We’ll walk around,” Maribel said. “Maybe sit down in my office, or go outside.”

“Don’t go too far,” Archer cautioned them. He really was a kind and fair man, Lyneve thought, and wondered why Kenny looked absolutely stricken at his words.

Quietly, she and Clay stepped into the room. Sunny was sleeping, and they stood in silence at the bedside for some time. Lyneve could not look at her enough. “It was hard, wasn’t it?” Clay’s voice was soft. “Bein’ separated from her.”

“Harder than you could probably conceive of.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” What’s that supposed to mean? she thought. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What?”

“Kenny was here for weeks after you took off. You knew he could get in touch with me. Why didn’t you call? You didn’t have to tell me you were runnin’ for the border, but you could’ve at least said you were both okay.”

His quiet vehemence took her aback. “Clay…why would I have thought to do that?”

“Why—would—“ He actually took hold of her shoulders as if for an instant he wanted to shake her; then he froze. His big clear eyes met hers, and pinched at the corners as if in pain. “You’re right. You had no cause to. Forgive me for making an assumption based on my own feelings. I’m just a guy you met a couple of times, not anybody special in your life.”

The harsh words were spoken without a trace of sarcasm. “What? Clay, that isn’t what I meant, not at all! I never thought to call you, because of—of what you do, what you are.”

“What I am.” Now he sounded almost bitter. “Sometimes I hate what I am, ‘cause that’s all people see anymore. Not who I am.”

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Lyneve reached for his hand. “I see,” she whispered. “I see who you are. That’s why I wished you were there with me, so I wouldn’t be alone…”

Tears rose unbidden to her eyes, and Clay drew her into his arms. “You’re not alone, darlin'. I’m here. I want to be here.”

“You said you made an assumption based on your feelings.”

“It was dumb of me. I assumed because I was, uh, missin’ you so much, you might be missin’ me.”

“I did! The whole time we were gone, I thought about you—but it seemed as foolish as wishing for the moon.”

“No,” he said simply, and squeezed her tight. She smiled, and rested against him, still half disbelieving. Evidently he sensed her fatigue; within moments he was sitting in the room’s one recliner and she across his lap.

“This is more than you ought to have to carry,” he murmured. “Let me help.”

Lyneve sighed, and nestled into his arms, and was asleep almost instantly.

+++

Hand in hand, Bel and Kenny walked away from the 24-hour bustle of Sacred Heart’s acute care floors and downstairs to the quiet, dimly lit corridors of the therapy rooms and therapists’ offices, shut till morning. Bel unlocked her tiny office door and flopped down behind her desk. Her chair was incredibly ugly, but she happily disguised it with a flowered scarf and a crocheted shawl she’d found at a yard sale, and lugged it with her every time she moved offices, because it was so darn comfortable. It was, she thought, an object lesson in seeing beyond surface appearances, a lesson she was still learning.

“Clay’s quite impressive when he’s angry,” she said. “Breathtaking, in fact. I can’t imagine anyone characterizing him as ‘pissy’ if they’d ever witnessed such a display of righteous indignation. Didn’t you love him raking that incompetent rat bastard Todd over the coals? The racist threat was a nice touch. I don’t think I ever told him I’m half Chicano—I’ve seen what he was alluding to, unfortunately, believe me! And as an added bonus, old Kelso’ll be up all night wondering how Clay knows his nastier side. He had to have seen the jerkwad give little old Mrs. Deering a hard time one day when he was pretending to be you, didn’t he?”

She giggled, but Kenny only managed a wan smile. He slumped in the other chair, knees wide apart and big hands dangling loosely between them. While it was nowhere near a proper time to think it, Bel found herself pondering how fun it would be if she locked the door and Kenny took her, right here on her messy desk…or maybe over there on the counter above her equipment cabinet… It sure would make sitting at this old computer more entertaining from now on, she thought, before she regretfully laid the tempting image aside.

“You certainly were right about him and Lyneve too,” she continued, increasingly aware she was trying to fill a strange and awkward silence. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not to mention his hands. Not that he did anything inappropriate—but wouldn’t some former ‘friends’ of mine choke on their overpriced lattes if they’d seen it? Wouldn’t leave their malicious little suppositions a leg to stand on…” Finally, she ran out of prattle. “You’re being very quiet.”

Kenny pushed himself to his feet. “Can we go outside?”

They retraced their steps past the cafeteria, serving a late supper crowd (Kenny’s former coworkers on the day shift were long gone for the night) and out the main doors. Kenny led the way around the hospital’s well-lit grounds to a bench tucked away in a niche, hidden behind a statue of a saint. “I used to like to come out here an’ eat my lunch. It felt, I dunno, safe, I reckon.” They sat, and Kenny stared out into the dark. “I didn’t expect this would happen so fast,” he said softly. “I thought we might have us a lil’ time, anyhow. I just now found you, an’ I don’t wanna be took from you this soon…”

“Stop it, Kenny. You’re a hero! Kelso may be a grade A suckup, but that’s to our good, and Lyneve’s, this time. And he is a doctor, and a fairly responsible one. He’ll make sure those tests are done right. And when they clear her, you’ll get a hefty portion of the credit. You were right about Detective Archer; I think he’s a good man and a good cop. He listened to her, and he gave her a chance to prove herself. He’ll do the same for you, if, and I emphasize if, it came to that.”

“He’s a cop, sweetie. He’ll do what he’s gotta do. He knows already, I believe. Didn’t you hear him tell me I better not go noplace? He’s waitin’ till all this fuss with Lyneve is done, I reckon. Then he’ll handcuff me up an’—“

“And nothing!” Bel was fleetingly angry with Kenny’s obstinacy, until he tipped his head back to look up at the sky, and the sparkle of stars was answered by the glint of tears on his flawless cheeks. She searched for words, and could find none, because what made this hell was that he could be right. Men had been sent to prison on no more than a scorned woman’s word. Bel refused to acknowledge that possibility, though, until all else was lost. There had to be another way.

Her silence was long, too long. Kenny turned to her, with that look in his pure eyes again, at once fearful and resolute, and when she tried to speak he shushed her with his fingertips on her lips. “Don’t, honey. Don’t make up somethin’ to say, to try an’ make me feel better. I’ve prayed over this for years, an’ I can accept whatever happens. The Lord’ll take care of me. All’s I need to hear from you is that you still believe me.”

“I do. I believe you. I love you.”

They sat and held each other without speaking. After what felt like a few minutes, Bel stirred and glanced at her watch, shocked to see it was past midnight. “We’d best get on back up there, then,” Kenny said when she told him. “They’ll have those test thingies back, an’ I don’t wanna miss seein’ Lyneve’s face!”

As they reentered the hospital, Kenny was spotted by Turk, an intern who remembered him from the cafeteria. When he asked what brought Kenny back here so late, he got more of a reply than he expected. By the time they (briefly) explained, the young black doctor’s eyes were as big as therapy balls. “Damn, man. You have been doin’ your thing, haven’t you? JD!” he hollered when the other intern passed. “C’mere, you gotta hear this!”

“Sorry, can’t. Just got paged to the lab. Catch ya later. Hi, Maribel. Hey, Kenny!” He threw up a hand and was gone in a swirl of wrinkled scrubs.

Bel and Kenny left the still amazed Turk, and headed back upstairs to the pediatric floor. As they rode up, Bel marveled at Kenny, afraid of what the future held for him, but excited at the hope it held for Lyneve and her little girl. She swallowed back tears, determined to be as brave and selfless as he.

That bravery was tested the instant the elevator doors opened, to reveal a very annoyed Detective Archer pacing in front of the nurses station. “Didn’t I tell you two not to go far?” he demanded. “The lab just called. The results are on their way up.”

+++

Clay couldn’t remember the last time he had had the leisure to just sit quietly for this long. (The interminable plane ride back from Indonesia most emphatically did not count.) Lyneve snoozed in his arms, and Sunny in her hospital bed, and despite the jury still being out on the lab results sent by Dr. Lopez, Clay felt at peace, as though all were right with the world. He shifted a little so his legs wouldn’t go to sleep, and Lyneve stirred. “Clay…”

Her husky voice murmuring his name was the sweetest music he had ever heard, and abruptly he saw himself lying in bed, with that voice coming out of the darkness at him…He wrested his thoughts from that perilous path. “Hm?” he managed, striving for a casual tone.

She chuckled sleepily. “Nothing…just wanted to be sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

“Nope.” Now she moved, her round soft womanly bottom pressing and rubbing against him, and suddenly a part of his anatomy his fans had ‘lovingly’ nicknamed was off the bench and ready to get into the game! Clay gulped as Lyneve innocently wriggled. He tried to think of cold showers, Simon’s insults, anything to defuse the riot brewing in his sweat pants…and worse yet, he had raced out of the house without pausing to put on underwear…

When she settled down, he breathed a silent prayer of thanks; until she shifted again, and said, “Clay?” She sounded more awake now, and he got out a grunt, hoping that would pass as an acceptable response. “Clay, there seems to be something…growing, between us.”

You’re darn tootin’, he thought. “Uh, yes, yes, I think so too.” He scrambled desperately for a handhold to haul himself out of the quicksand of lust he had stumbled into. “I, uh, I have some pretty—pretty strong feelings for you, and I hope maybe you, um, might feel somethin' similar for me…um, you know?”

His attempt to take the philosophical high road was derailed when Lyneve looked up at him from her resting place against his chest. Her whiskey eyes captured him, and he went willingly, surrendering to their spell. “Well, that too,” she agreed, “but that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking of…or noticing.”

This time her rump’s grind was all too deliberate, and Clay truly understood the concept of the lap dance. “Lyneve—oh my goodness—I’m sorry. Lord, I’m not like that, truly I’m not—“

His cheeks burned, and he could have wept from humiliation, until she sat up and took his flaming face gently in her hands. “I know that, silly! I’m, well, sort of hoping this—growth—does have something to do with those lofty ideals you were just talking about. That it’s about me.”

The hope in her face emboldened him. “When I said I missed you,” he confessed, “I meant I missed you on a number of levels.”

Her eyes widened, and stirred. She leaned toward him, and his mouth met hers halfway. The kiss was long and slow and quiet. Her tongue traced his lips, but did not press its case, like the mischievous girl next door tiptoeing around the house, peering in the windows to see if her playmate could sneak outside. He did, and she gasped a little, her mouth crushed against his. She stroked the back of his neck, and sucked at his tongue hard enough to send a jolt to his already overly excited crotch. He moved away, his breaths fast and hard, and watched her full beckoning bosom quicken with ferment. He took one more deep lungful, and took the dive. “It is about you, all about you. I…think I’m fallin’ in love with you.”

Her flush-lipped smile lit his world. “What a coincidence. I’ve been thinking that very thing about you.” They giggled lightly together, and Lyneve resettled herself in Clay’s arms with a little noise of satisfaction—for a moment. “Uh oh. I can’t, uh, do anything to help you out with this little growth issue right now. I doubt the hospital would smile on such behavior.”

“I’ll live,” he snickered and wrapped her in his embrace again. He would, too; seeing Sunny sleeping only feet away was a great governor on his body’s single-mindedness.

“Good. I promise I’ll make it up to you later…if you like.”

“I like,” he growled in her ear, and felt her start and then sigh. Good heavens, he was bold! This wasn’t a dream, but a real woman, and the old geekish uncertainty rose to throw a further damper on his ardor. How funny was this—she was a fan, after all, and fans threw themselves inexplicably at him much of the time. Perhaps it was because she had first met him as a nobody that that hadn’t really impacted his thinking about her. He had never felt a hint of reservation about relating to her; helping her; loving her.

Clay laid his cheek against the top of her head. He nestled his nose in her hair and sniffed, catching a whiff of floral shampoo on the honey-gold strands. He nearly dozed off himself until he heard a rustle among the bed covers and glanced over to see Sunny peering over the rail. “Clay!” she whispered, her little round face alight.

“Shh,” he replied with a grin. “Your mom’s sleepin’ and she needs her rest. She’s pretty tired.”

Sunny clapped one plump hand over her mouth to suppress a squeal at the sight of the figure in housekeeper’s dress. Then she cocked her head and gave Clay a quizzical look. She was absolutely the most adorable child he had ever known. “Why is Mama Eve sleeping in your lap?”

Lyneve snorted, and looking down at her Clay saw her smile. “Because I want to.”

“And because I want her to,” Clay added.

Sunny regarded them both with a serious air. “So you really like him, huh, Mama Eve?” Lyneve all but smirked. “And Clay, he like you too?” Clay grinned and nodded. “So when am I gonna get little white brothers and sisters?”

Lyneve’s voice went up a good octave, and she sat straight up. “Sunny!” she squeaked, in a tone that made Clay glad there wasn’t a bar of soap handy for washing out somebody’s mouth! Further remonstrances were stymied, however, when the door swung open and a young man in scrubs poked his head inside.

“Miss Holt? I’m Dr. Dorian. I’ve been following Sunny since her readmit. Dr. Kelso thought you’d rather hear the lab results in person than on the phone.” I bet he did, Clay snarked to himself. “The lab confirmed Dr. Lopez’ diagnosis. They’re still working on the exact type, but Sunny definitely has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.” With a little cry, Lyneve scrambled to her feet. Detective Archer was on the young doctor’s heels, and Bel and Kenny crowded in behind him. “It’s genetically based, so there is no cure for it, but there are treatment options. Exercises, and modifications to her environment, can help—Maribel, that’s where OT will come in—as well as diet and supplements. With those and a healthy appreciation for risks, there’s no reason I know of why Sunny can’t lead a long and normal life.”

“I’ve already informed the hospital administration that the charges they pressed against you have been dropped, since the evidence indicates no crime was ever committed,” Detective Archer said with a small and genuine smile. “We’ll let Children’s Services know first thing in the morning—wait, it is morning—well, as soon as they open for business. I imagine your job will be waiting for you, and the process of adopting Sunny shouldn’t be impeded at all.”

At the mention of her name, Sunny sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes, and Lyneve turned to explain. Clay stood, shook the detective’s hand, and thanked him for his fairness.

“My job,” Archer shrugged. “And since my job involves chasing real criminals, I think the city will appreciate it if I make my exit now. There is one thing I’d like to know, though…Kenny?”

Kenny was watching with a pleased grin as Lyneve excitedly explained the night’s events to Sunny; but when Archer spoke his name he jerked as if he had been hit in the back with a two by four. Maribel stood beside him, one arm around his waist, and she put her other hand on his side as though to steady him. Slowly he turned to Archer, with a look Clay imagined one might see on the face of a convicted killer awaiting the death sentence. A long few seconds passed before he said, “Yessir?”

His voice was low, and tightly controlled, and suddenly and unaccountably, Clay was angry. He liked puzzles, as long as they had a solution, a key, a way to be solved. For the life of him, he had not been able to find the missing piece, the tool to unlock the purpose behind his friend’s bouts of bizarre behavior, and the lack maddened him. I want to know what’s wrong, and this time he’s not gonna blow me off.

He was not, however, destined to get that chance. “What is it about me that creeps you out?” the detective inquired, his tone curious and not confrontational. “The first time we talked here, I thought maybe you were new to the big city, not accustomed to being questioned by police, yadda yadda. But the second time, when I swung by your apartment to touch base, you were so visibly spooked I started to get a complex! It occurred to me, pardon my bluntness: well, he’s a white kid from the South, I’m a black man in a position of authority, you might say; maybe he’s got issues with that.”

“No sir!” Kenny looked appalled. “Not me.”

“So I hear. From talking with your coworkers, you’re about as bigoted as that chair Mr. Aiken was just sitting in with the lovely Miss Holt.” Clay would have sworn the cop’s mustache twitched. “So I’m stumped. I even ran you through our databases—laugh if you want, people, I’ve been doing this fifteen years and crooks come in some very unlikely packages.” Archer shook his head. “You’ve never even had a speeding ticket, son. What gives? I’d just like to know, if you can tell me.”

Kenny’s mouth slowly opened, then closed, then opened and closed again, without a sound emerging. It reminded Clay of a fish his dad had caught on a family vacation, and thrown back. Bel yelped and looked up at Kenny, surprise morphing into delight on her face. He stared, and then swayed a little, and Clay actually took a step forward, afraid his buddy might pass out. “Ah need to siddown,” he mumbled.

Quicker than Clay could react, Bel had backed Kenny up to the recliner. He sat frozen for a second, still looking dazed, then leaned forward, wrapped his arms around Bel’s hips and pressed his face to her side. She stood and stroked his hair the way moms comfort scared kids, and quietly outlined a story that explained every mystery and answered every question Clay had had; a story that chilled him; Kenny’s story.

Lyneve left Sunny’s bedside and knelt next to the recliner, putting her hands over Kenny’s. Clay wasn’t angry anymore; or rather he was, but not at the man sitting there. He was a bit irritated with him, though. “Kenny—man, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t tell a soul,” Kenny mumbled. “I only just tol’ Bel, here a few days ago.” He lifted his head, his face crimson. “You got problems enough, Clay, you didn’t need mine too.”

“You helped me with mine, you could’ve let me help you with yours!”

“This was the law, Clay! How was it gonna look if one o’ them nasty ol’ grocery store papers found out you had an accused rapist workin’ for you?”

Clay reined in his annoyance; true to form, Kenny had only been trying to help, even if it meant bearing the burden of this terrible fear alone. “They’ve said worse that wasn’t true,” he returned. “That’s not important, though. What matters is that you’re not in any trouble—am I right, Detective? This woman never followed through on her threat?”

Archer nodded. “His record’s clean as this hospital’s floor.”

Kenny sniffled. “Not in the cafeteria.”

Clay knew that from experience, too. “Especially not by the back loading door. Or under the fry pot.”

His eyes met Kenny’s, and he was silently thankful to see a small smile answer his. Maybe this conflict hadn’t damaged their friendship beyond repair.

Both women giggled. Nonplussed, Archer glanced around at them. “It bothers me that you went this long thinking you had to hide from nonexistent charges, though, Kenny. Here’s a proposal. How about if I follow up on this, discreetly, and find out what happened to your…to the principals involved? I’d like to know, but only if you give the word.” Clay liked how the man did not say your family. Kenny probably didn’t think of any of those people as his family…but then again, there was no accounting for emotions.

Kenny wiped his hands down his face. “That’d be right nice of you. I’d appreciate that. You’re a good man.”

“Justice,” Archer said thoughtfully. “It’s supposed to be my job too, but I don’t always get to see it happen. It would be good for me too.” He left, accompanied by Dr. Dorian, and the room was very quiet. Kenny tried his legs and apparently found them functional.

“I reckon I best get a move on,” he said. “You’ll be wantin’ to hire yourself a new assistant—“

‘Oh, shut up, Kenny!” Clay retorted.

“But—you hired me ‘cause you thought you could trust me—“

“Yeah, and I do! Yeah, it hurt my feelin’s a little that you didn’t tell me, but it obviously wasn’t because you didn’t trust me. I don’t know what in the world I would’ve done in the same spot. Probably the same darn thing.” Clay had been a little hesitant in the past about expressing his feelings for his male friends, but this was no time to be hesitant. He hugged Kenny fiercely. “You are one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and I’m not lettin’ you run away. I need you to help me stay sane.”

At first Kenny did not respond at all, as if frozen in incredulity; and then Clay felt him hug him back. “Thank you,” he said simply.

A round of hugs (tearful ones on the part of the ladies) followed all around. “Kenny?” Sunny said timidly, and in answer to her outstretched hand he went to her bedside. “I’m sorry that woman was bad to you. Is it all better now?”

“Sure nuff,” Kenny grinned, with Bel wrapped around him again. Sunny nodded toward her.

“You like her a lot, huh?” she asked him.

“Like bears like honey.”

“And you like him too?” The child turned her focus to Bel, who smiled broadly and affirmed. Sunny nodded wisely. “More little white babies. I like babies. Can I be your babysitter when I get well?”

Amid the general laughter, Lyneve groaned in embarrassment. “That’s a little ahead of the game, young lady!” she scolded. “Right now, you are a little girl who is up way past her bedtime!”

Meekly, Sunny let her mom tuck her in. “Will you sing to me?” she appealed to Clay.

He agreed, and paused in thought. “Hey Kenny, you know any old country songs?”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Like you hear much else in the sticks of Kentucky.”

“There’s an old Oak Ridge Boys song I remember from when I was a kid—maybe you heard it. They played it like it was a love song, but it always sounded to me like it could’ve been a lullaby too. The guy with the bass voice sang lead…” He began to softly sing:

“Lay your head down on my shoulder, I won’t let the night get colder”

Kenny’s eyes brightened, and he joined in on the melody.

“I’ll protect you, I’ll be keepin’ trouble far from where you’re sleepin’”

Clay moved up into a harmony line.

“Until you wake in the morning, you’ve got the world to yourself

Dream on, dream about the world we’re gonna live in one fine day

Dream on, spend the night in heaven, I’ll be here to light your way

Someday tomorrow will smile, but little girl in the meanwhile, dream on…”

By the time they sang another verse and chorus, Sunny’s eyelids were heavy and she nodded off with a big smile. Maribel’s smile was equally bright, and a half dozen nurses were clogging the doorway with stars in their eyes. Lyneve brushed tears from her own eyes at the beauty. She would never have thought Kenny could sing like that—but then, many people had once thought the same of another long-legged redhead. “Thank you all, so much,” she told the others when she was sure her voice was under control again. “Shouldn’t you get out of here and try to get some sleep?”

“Excuse me?” Bel glared. “This from a woman half dead on her feet? You’re the one who needs rest, and what sleep you got curled up on that handsome man of yours is not quite gonna cut it.”

Lyneve rolled the words around in her head. That handsome man of yours. Five more beautiful words could not possibly exist. How they could apply to her, and this man beside her, of all the men in the world, was a miracle she could not fathom; and then, as if to make her joy heart-burstingly complete, Clay’s arms went around her middle and he said cheerfully, “Then I guess I better take this gorgeous woman of mine home.” She caught her breath, and let him hold her, staying very still so as to fully absorb the moment through her every pore.

Kenny’s eyes narrowed. “You think he’s handsome, huh?” he asked Bel.

“He looks a little like you,” she fired back. “I think that qualifies.” Lyneve laughed at his mock jealousy and her quick wit. “Go on, Lyneve. God knows you’ve been through enough, and you do need to rest. I have no doubt you’d like to stay with Sunny all night, or what’s left of it, but if you like I can stay.”

“We can stay,” Kenny corrected her.

Protests were futile, and in a few moments Clay was gently propelling Lyneve out the door and across the peds floor to the elevators. She laid her hand over his at her waist. “People are going to talk.”

“People probably already are,” he agreed. “So?”

In a haze of wonder to rival Kenny’s she let Clay bundle her into his big black SUV, and dozed off after she gave him directions to her house. She woke with a start when he pulled into her driveway, and with a horrible realization. “Wait, how am I going to get back to the hospital? My car is there!”

Clay put on the brake and peered out the windshield with a frown. “What? Oh—I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He stifled a huge yawn.

“How far do you have to drive?” she asked, and her eyes bugged at his reply; only partly because of the property values in that area. “Clay, that’s halfway to Arizona! And you haven’t gotten any sleep either. Do you know what your Nation would do to me if you nodded off and had a wreck, and anyone found out it was my fault?” Lyneve pulled his keys out of the ignition. “Get in this house, mister. I can’t wake you up with coffee, so you’ll just have to crash here.” He did not respond, but kept staring at her little blue-shingled house with a puzzled air. “Unless it doesn’t meet your lofty requirements? Or did you reconsider my ruining your reputation?”

“Huh? No! I just—this place looks awful familiar for some reason.” He yawned again, and shrugged and followed her inside, running his fingertips along the edges of her flower boxes beneath the front windows.

Lyneve offered him supper and a shower, both of which he politely declined. She poured two tall glasses of iced juice and carried them to the living room, where Clay stood looking at the photos of Sunny that ornamented the mantel. “I think you’re falling in love with another woman,” she teased.

He turned, with a wide smile she had seen in pictures, and a few times at a distance from a stage. Having that turned on her felt like being bathed in a spotlight. “Is it that obvious?”

“She’s pretty much irresistible.”

“Like her mom.” The heat swept downward now. For God’s sake, this was a man she had giggled over with her friends like a teenybopper, a man she had screamed and thrown unmentionables at, and here she stood while he flirted with her. “You’re blushin’. I’m sorry. Was that too—forward? I’m not very good at this, Lyneve. Nerds don’t get much practice at gettin’ girls, and then in my situation…”

“I can imagine. You went from getting nothing to speak of, to having pussy hurled at you on a regular basis.”

Now he was the one blushing. “Well, that wasn’t precisely how I would’ve put it.”

“Sorry. I can be too blunt for my own good sometimes.”

“I seem to remember that. You confronted me quite bluntly on one occasion. Somethin’ about a penny and a little case of mistaken identity.”

Lyneve set her glass aside and reached down the neck of her borrowed disguise. Clay’s eyes, she was quick to note, followed her hand closely as it disappeared into her cleavage, and their steady regard made her flush anew, in places more hidden. She pulled out the tiny woven bag she wore around her neck on its leather thong. “I got this bag in Mexico. The mother of one of Dr. Lopez’ nurses weaves them for the parents of the children he treats. You’re supposed to put some small items inside, personal things, comforting things—a shell, a feather, a prayer on a slip of paper, whatever.” She loosened the drawstrings and tipped the contents out into her palm. “I put an angel in mine.” The penny Clay had given her the day they met glinted up at them. “I don’t need a lot of romancing, Clay. A man who would reach out like this to a total stranger, a woman he’d never met, especially one who must be as cautious with his trust as you—a man who cares like that is what I need, what I want. You’re what I want. Nerd and all.”

With a giggle, he set his drink down too, and folded both his big hands around her one, closing it into a loose fist with the coin inside. He lifted it to touch her knuckles lightly with his lips, then released it to reopen slowly like a flower. “That’s a lot of weight for a little piece of metal.”

She looked down at it and then away, disconcerted for another reason now. “I kept it with me the whole time we were down there, especially at night. I’d hold it tight, and it…made me feel you were with me. I know it sounds foolish, but—“

“I was.” His voice was low and breathy. “I was there, every minute.” He took the penny from her hand, placed it in the little bag and drew the strings shut; then he replaced it whence it came. Ever the gentleman, he was careful not to touch her there, but the heat of his fingers radiated to her chest, and the flush rapidly headed south. He did, however, tug playfully at the polyester collar of her loaner uniform. “If I’d known this was a dress-up affair, I’d’ve borrowed Kenny’s old smock.”

Lyneve surprised herself with the laugh she let out, a deep belly laugh of relief. “He’s so great. And so is Maribel. They make a terrific couple.”

“Yeah, they do. Kenny’s the best…and I have been so jealous of him, for so long.” Lyneve blinked in surprise. “First because he had the freedom I didn’t, or at least I thought he did. I had no idea he was, in his mind, runnin’ for his life. And then, because he got the girl he wanted. Me, all I had was a vision, a memory, a dream of a woman who was everything I had ever conceived of wanting. Smart, beautiful, strong—Lord, you are strong! A woman who’s fully capable of takin’ care of herself, but might not mind lettin’ me take care of her some. A woman who haunted me, in a way no woman ever had in my life.” Clay’s hand rose to her face, and he caressed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. Their little hairs tickled her skin, and the heat sinking within her became a low ache of desire. “I always told interviewers I’d never been in love before, but I knew that was true the day I met you, because I had never, ever, felt what I felt that day, what I feel every time I look at you. The weeks you were gone drove me crazy, Lyneve. I never want you to run away like that again. I never want to be without you again.”

She reached up and laced her fingers through his, and brought his hand around to her mouth. “I never want to,” she breathed.

This time it was his mouth that claimed hers, and somewhere along the way the last vestiges of her hesitancy slipped away. She no longer even thought of kissing a pop icon. She was kissing a man she loved with all her heart. His hands slid down her sides and over her hips, and a twinge of apprehension recurred—she was highly aware of her big hips and ass—but his touch felt so good. “Mmmm…” she sighed, her lips captive to his and unable to articulate much more. Plainly he took that as encouragement; his hands curved around her butt and began to knead it. Her sigh became a moan, and he pulled her body to him. His hardness was already evident again, and its pressure against her fired her own depths to wet heat.

She started to slide her own hands inside the back of his pants to return his favor, when he jerked his head away. “Ohh…I shouldn’t be doin’ this, you need to rest, baby—“

“I can rest later. Right now I need you.” Lyneve grabbed the ties dangling from the neck of Clay’s hoodie and tugged, with a significant tip of her head toward her bedroom. Obediently and with a wide-eyed grin, he let her lead him there; but when they stepped through the door he halted with that same puzzled frown he had held in her driveway. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just that thing again. Like I’ve been here before…”

“In your dreams,” she chuckled, and after another moment he joined her. She peeled off his sweatshirt and ran her hands over his chest through his T-shirt, relishing his little gasp and sigh. Not all the hardening was taking place below his waist; she teased his nipples through the thin fabric and watched them perk up. When she looked up, he was watching her hands on him, his pupils enlarged and darkening his eyes to jungle green. She smiled slowly, and slipped her hands under the cotton at a leisurely pace, enjoying the crinkle of hairs on his belly and chest. He shivered, his eyes closed and his head drifting to one side. Still taking her time, Lyneve traveled around his waist and massaged the small of his back with firm strokes; and then and only then, she dared explore below the waistband of his sweatpants—the only waistband she found. “Clay!”

He roused and licked his lips, and glared at her. “What? When you’re racin’ out to rescue a fair maiden, you don’t always have time to stop for the niceties.”

Lyneve giggled, and then moved back to gaze into his face, praying she would have years to memorize every freckle. “Sorry, neither.”

“Huh?”

“And you call yourself a nerd? Star Trek. The episode where the crew got the alien virus that made them all act out their innermost fantasies. Some guys are hassling Uhura and Sulu does his swashbuckling thing. Jumps into the fray hollering ‘I’ll save you, fair maiden’. And of course she says—“

“’Sorry, neither’,” they both said in unison, and Clay grinned. “The second I don’t know or care about, but I’ll have to disagree on the first.” He tangled his fingers in her hair. “’You are fair, my beloved, you are exceedingly fair’. ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?’”

It surprised her not at all that he would quote the Bible and the Brothers Grimm in the same breath. “Listen to you, quoting fairy tales!”

“Fine, make fun! Can I help it if I never completely grew up?”

“Join the club. It seems somehow appropriate. I feel like I’m living in a fairy tale right now. Sunny diagnosed, and us living happily ever after…and you…”

“Why? Because of—what I am?”

A hint of distance slipped into his eyes. “No. Because of who you are. This brave, charming, fierce—have I mentioned how you turn me on when you’re pissed off?” Clay laughed out loud with a note of scorn. “Yes! You were so hot in that office, jerking that Todd man’s chain. Taking charge, crusading for justice…At the risk of sounding majorly un-PC, I…when my brothers and I read books or played games, I always dreamed of being the heroine in need of a little help. Not the helpless Sleeping-Beauty kind. More like Princess Leia, fighting an outnumbered battle against the forces of evil till Han Solo swept in to help save the day. Or the female lead in a hundred great old Westerns, with three kids and a rifle and no husband, holding off cattle rustlers or the bank foreclosing or some nasty old railroad baron, till the mysterious cowboy rode up on his big black horse and took them out.”

Clay’s eyebrows lifted. “I thought the hero got the white horse.”

“My fantasy, my rules. Besides, your SUV’s black.”

“Good point.” He drew her to him again. “I always wanted to be the strong protector, the man of the house, the go-to guy. But in my family, that role never seemed to be open.”

“I’m hiring. Are you interested?”

“Very.”

+++

Kenny sat down in the big recliner chair in Sunny’s room after everybody else left. His legs were still shaky as a newborn calf’s, and it was hard for him to believe what had just happened really had happened. Bel stood in front of him and held his hands. “How do you feel?” she asked him.

He didn’t really know, he was feeling so much all at the same time. “Mad,” he said finally. She made a face like she didn’t understand. “Eight years, I spent livin’ like a fox bein’ hunted by hound dogs, an’ it never had to be.”

She squeezed her lips together like she was about to cry. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Kenny thought about it for a minute more, and then let it go. “No sense in stayin’ mad, though. It happened, an’ that’s all there is to it. It kinda made me stronger. Like Clay sings about sometimes. I’m happy he didn’t stay mad at me long.”

Bel groaned. “He wasn’t mad! A little disappointed at first, I think, as if he felt you didn’t trust him, but that was gone in an instant. No sane person could fail to understand why you were so afraid. Look at Detective Archer—he was appalled!” She gave his hands a little shake, like she wanted to shake low feelings out of him.

“Yeah. It’ll be right interestin’ to hear what finally went with all of ‘em. Bryce, an’ Jake, Uncle Trent…Betty…” He shook his head, and pulled Bel down into his lap. “If it hadn’t of happened though, I’d of never come to LA, or to Sacred Heart, an’ I never would of met you. So I’ve got to give thanks for it.”

She kissed his cheek. “So how do you feel now?”

“Free as a bird.” She giggled and snuggled up in his arms like a little girl. “I love you so much, darlin’. I sure wish my folks could of met you. Daddy, he would of said ‘well son, that’s fine, but she’s no bigger’n a boo. Couldn’t you of found you a full-grown one?’ An’ Mama would of smacked him with the newspaper, like she did our ol’ dog Flash, an’ said ‘hush your smart mouth, Randall’ an’ he would of laughed. Lord, how he could laugh, fit to make the ceilin’ jousts rattle…They see us, though, I believe. They know I love you.”

“Then they know I love you too.” She put her head on his shoulder, and they talked for a while, quiet-like so as not to wake Sunny up. Bel told him about her relations, who weren’t Mexican as he had thought but came from Puerto Rico. He apologized and said he hoped he hadn’t offended her too much by being so ignorant, and she started looking around for a newspaper to smack him with. After that, they sat for a while and didn’t talk. Kenny thought Bel had fallen asleep, when she looked up at him and said, “Can you come to my office for a few minutes? We can leave Sunny a note, and tell the nurses. I need you to help me with something down…there.”

“I reckon so.” They wrote on the back of Sunny’s supper menu and left it on the bed where she would see it if she woke up, and not be scared of being alone again. Then Bel all but dragged him downstairs! He imagined she was rushing to get back to Sunny, but they got in her office and she locked the door behind them. “So what do you need? Want me to move some furniture or somethin’?”

“You could say that.” There was a low cabinet built into one wall with a counter on top, and she hopped up there and sat with her legs dangling over the edge—and her knees spread way apart. Kenny could almost imagine he smelled her, and that wasn’t good considering where they were, especially when she grabbed his hands and pulled him right in between those knees! Lord, she’s gonna notice I’m stirrin’ here, I can’t help it… “I’m in this cage half the day and it makes me crazy. I need some of you in here. To be specific, I need some of you in me, here, now!”

She kissed him hard, and rubbed herself against him. The countertop was just the right height. His head spun—this couldn’t be happening, it was starting to get light beyond the closed blinds. “Bel—people are gonna start comin’ in for work, we can’t—“

“Nobody here but housekeeping for another hour or more.” Her cheeks and lips were rosy and she grinned a bad grin. “Just a quickie, and we can go.” Just a quickie? Well, Kenny’s willie was already thinking along those lines…and nobody was going to see, unless housekeeping opened the door, or they yelled...and even then…he thought of something that made him laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve been tryin’ for years not to get caught for somethin’ I didn’t do, an’ all of a sudden the thought of gettin’ caught for really doin’ somethin’ is awful excitin’.” He slid his hands under her bottom and pulled her pants down around her ankles. “No quickie though. I’m gonna do you right.”

+++

Lyneve turned her back for Clay to unzip her dress; but when he reached to unhook her bra, she felt his fingers tremble slightly against her skin. “Don’t be nervous!” she smiled. “I’ve looked forward to this for so long.”

Silence answered her. Concerned, she peered over her shoulder to find Clay looking decidedly uncomfortable, staring at his big feet, though how he could see them past the tent being pitched in his pants was beyond her. “That’s, um, what I’m nervous about. I…haven’t gotten much practice at this either.”

How ironic; but holding her own with three brothers, a dad, and no mother to buffer had made her at ease with being assertive, even aggressive, in the company of men. She could lead the way until his uncertainty was overcome. “It’s okay, Clay. I told you, I love you! You don’t have to be a master cocksman. You love me. The rest will, well, come.” Her pun made him giggle, and his tense posture relaxed. She turned and let her dress fall, clad in nothing but her white boy-briefs with the lettuce-edge hem. Clay hugged her tight, then stepped back to inspect the package. She laid her hands on her hips, as though that would camouflage their size, and continued, “But if…”

She winced despite herself when he replaced her hands with his. His burgeoning smile faltered. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Uh, I’m just a little self-conscious…I’m not exactly model material, you may have noticed.”

“What?” She thought his tone of shock was sarcasm, but his horrified face said otherwise. “You’re beautiful, darlin’. You’re a woman. You’re supposed to have curves, and be all soft, and warm…”

He caressed her hips, and his smile reappeared and broadened when she shivered. “Um, as I was saying… I mean—I was about to say ‘ but if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine’. Lyneve reached between them and trailed her hand along his length through his pants. “However, it doesn’t look like you need coaxing. Maybe some coaching, but nothing more.”

“I want you,” he rasped. “I just don’t wanna disappoint you.”

“Not even an issue.” She slid her hands under his shirt again, and this time he let her pull it off over his head. His mussed hair and earnest expression made her feel for a moment as if she were seducing a young boy, as she backed up and they stretched out on the bed.

A plan was forming in her brain, while they lay and kissed deeply: get him off first, with her hands and mouth; then with him relaxed and more at ease, he could watch her pleasure herself, the better to see how he could pleasure her. The mere thought of touching herself under the scrutiny of those jungle-cat eyes was nearly enough to send her over the edge. She liked it, and she was about to begin by pushing him gently onto his back when Clay pulled away again. “Crap—I don’t have condoms.”

“I do.” She rolled over onto her hands and knees and opened the bedside table drawer. “Left over form an old boyfriend. Which was quite a while ago, let me hasten to add, but they should be okay.”

Behind her, she heard him pull his pants off, and the sound excited her even more. She rose onto her knees, packet in hand, and started to turn, when a long ginger-furred arm went around her waist and held her in place. “Old boyfriend?” Clay’s breath was hot in her ear. “How many old boyfriends have you entertained in this lil’ house, Lyneve?”

“Not many, with a child in this little house. Not many, period. I’m very particular about men.”

He did not reply immediately, but pulled her back until her body was pressed hard against his naked one. Damn, for someone who claims not much experience, he can’t be thinking…Doing this doggy-style? Or what? Lyneve’s thinking began to deteriorate when his pelvis began to move in a languid rhythm against her ass. His cock slid along her crack, so maddeningly close to her need but so far. “You spoke about coachin’ me…with what you learned from bein’ with other men, I suppose?” His free hand traced lazy patterns on the skin of her belly and inner thighs. “We’re not gonna do that. You may have to forgive my fumbling, but I don’t want you thinkin’ of another man when you’re with me, not tonight, not ever.”

“Yes,” she gasped, feeling herself yield to him, amazed at how the balance of confidence had shifted in an instant. “Why would I, when the only man I want is right here?”

His chuckle was low and wicked, his mouth hot and wet against her neck. His fingertips found the crinkled hem of her panties. “These are cute. Somebody threw some on stage once at a concert last summer. Here in LA, in fact. They were purple. I’d never seen any like them, so I…”

“Remembered them?”

“Kept them.” He pulled them down. “Did you throw those at me?”

She was going limp with desire, sagging into his strong grasp. “Yes.” Clay eased her back onto the mattress, and she looked up at him and let her plan go. There was no need. All he needed was a little encouragement, and that she could give. She had had men in her bed, a few, who she had made work for her every sigh; but she had not loved them. For this one she loved, she would cast every shred of pride to the wind. “Damn, you are gorgeous. You do know that, right? Those thighs…dear God, how I’ve dreamed of your thighs between mine, Clay…”

“Cussin’ and throwin’ panties,” he chuckled again and pulled hers off, twirling them around his finger before he dropped them. “You’re a bad girl.”

“Your bad girl,” she retorted. “Yours, and only yours.”

+++

If the little yelp Bel let out when Kenny pulled her pants down was any indication, she sure hadn’t expected him to go for this crazy idea of having sex in her office, much less take it over. He didn’t give her a lot of choice though, when he unzipped his pants and pulled her right up against him. She loved it when he rubbed her through her clothes, so he kept his boxers up and rubbed his crotch on hers. While they kissed, he slid his hands up under her shirt. He’d gotten really good at taking her bra off; he could do it without even looking now. He got hold of her nipples, but instead of playing with them, he just held them between his fingers and squeezed a little. He swore he could feel them getting bigger just from his touch. Her body and the way it reacted to him was amazing.

Bel panted and hung onto him, squirming like a fish on a hook. “Hurry, Kenny…”

“You remember our first time? My pace?” As reckless as it might be, he was trying to make her holler, and enjoying watching her try not to. When she started to sweat (he already was) he slid her panties down, pulled himself out of his pants, and lifted and set her down on him. She was barely perched on the edge of the counter, which he realized meant she could barely move without risking falling on her butt on the floor. From the way she looked startled and grabbed hold of the edge, she had just realized it too. That was exciting too, in a strange way. It really was his pace. Slowly he moved in and out of her. She took a big breath like she was about to scream, but then she slapped her own hand over her mouth to stop it. Kenny laughed. “Aw, lookit you. What’d you think I was gonna do, wham bam thank ya ma’am? Didn’t think I was really gonna give it to ya? Didn’t think I’d make ya holler? Can’t holler, Mar’bel. You made up this game, you gotta play by the rules.” He watched her pretty eyes get as big as full moons and then roll back in her head as he pumped faster. He almost wanted to holler too, the closer he got to coming, but he gritted his teeth until it burst from him. Bel’s hand flew off her mouth. She grabbed him and pressed her face to his chest while she shook with her own coming, and made little puppy noises. He held onto her tight, till both their bodies calmed down. “Was I too mean, Bel? You said you wanted somethin’ to remember.”

When she got her breath back, she grumbled, “Yeah, and now I’ve got to put in for a transfer to another office…I’ll never get any work done in here anymore!”

+++

Clay hadn’t wanted Lyneve to know how nervous he was. He had never felt this way with a girl before. Maybe that was precisely it. The few he had been with had been girls. This was a woman, a woman he loved, a woman he did not want to fall short for. Her gentle reassurances had lifted him up, but her casual references to ‘old boyfriends’ had set him off. He didn’t want her leading him by the hand through sex, with tricks she had learned from Lord knew who. He didn’t want her thinking of whoever she had learned those tricks from, instead of him, when he was making love to her! He had always had trouble making the first move, but he would not tolerate that; it was the wrong foot to start love on, and he said so, and Lyneve didn’t argue.

“Your bad girl, Clay,” she whispered again while they kissed and held each other, nothing between them now but sweat. He hated to even have thin rubber between them, after experiencing how wonderful this full-body contact was, but he took the packet from her, hoping not to fumble with it too much. “Wanna see a bad girl trick I learned from a dirty movie?”

“You watch dirty movies?”

“Not often, with Sunny in the house! But occasionally, if it has a plot. I always imagine it’s you, though…and me.” She opened the packet and settled the condom over his head…followed by her mouth…and slowly moved down his length, unrolling as she went. He could feel her tongue sweeping and swirling around him as she went, and he shuddered and groaned with the heat and the gentle insistent pressure engulfing him. Another groan escaped him when she pulled away. “I can’t take you all. You’re so big…” She finished with her fingers, but still kissing and licking all the way up to the root. From there her mouth traveled up his belly and chest, pausing to nip at his nipples till they ached like tiny erect penises, and until he could no longer bear it. With a noise that almost startled him with its animalistic intensity, he pushed her back onto the bed and rolled onto her to launch his own attack.

The faint doubt still circulating in the back of his mind about his ability to satisfy her vanished in an instant. Most women had certain spots they liked to be touched, but Lyneve went wild no matter where his tongue or lips or fingertips went. She writhed beneath him, moaned how much his weight pinning her down turned her on, and clenched the bed covers in a death grip. Whenever he paused for breath, she begged, pleading without shame. “Clay—God, you’re killing me, don’t stop, don’t stop—“

He found that surprisingly arousing, and made it a point thereafter to stop now and then to watch her work herself up. Not that he wanted people to grovel to him, but sex, he concluded, was a little different. “Who were those other men you had here?” he asked one time, when he looked up from his exploration of the fragrant garden between her legs.

“What other men?” she all but screamed.

“Good answer.” He caressed the soft round of her hips and belly, wondering why she would think them unattractive. The crap the media force-fed women was disgusting, really. “Did any of them ever make you feel this good?” He moved his hands from her smooth skin, and she shook her head frantically. “Say it, darlin’. I need to hear you tell me I’m givin’ you what you want.”

“Oh…ahh…yes, yeees…damn, I hurt for you, Clay, I need you inside me…please—please—“

“I aim to please,” he purred, and slid into her as far as he could go. “I love you, baby…I want to be the only one you get this way for, always…”

“Don’t worry…” she panted, her clutch transferring from the sheets to him. “I’m—aahh—I’m your bad girl—remember? Only yours…”

The passion in her face gripped him like her hands. Sex was pleasure, yes, but he had never felt this joy with it. He began to move, wanting her to feel this too, but feeling suddenly shy again at her eyes on him. He faltered, dropping from the heights, until she sighed, “I love hearing you grunt like that—you’re putting so much into it—for me—God, that’s beautiful—I love you, Clay…oh—it’s close—“ With his next breath and thrust she screamed “CLAAAAYYY!!!” Her fingers dug into his flesh, and she bucked beneath him. The clamp of her legs around him squeezed him that last little bit, and he was sure he stopped breathing altogether, except for the lungful that escaped him in a loud cry as climax swept him from scalp to toes. It went on for seconds, like nothing he had ever experienced, alone or with another human being, until it slackened and he fell spent, like a bird from the sky.

When Clay started to breathe again, the world was still in existence, and he lay pillowed on Lyneve’s soft flesh. “Oh, dang, I’m sorry, baby, I’m squashin’ you.” She silenced him with a giggly kiss. “So, that was okay?”

“Okay?” She looked almost offended, and for a split second Clay’s heart was ready to break. “And you said, what was it, you ‘didn’t have much practice’? Clayton Holmes Aiken, you’re either a damned liar or the greatest natural lover ever created.”

Clay relaxed. “Well, I’m not a liar,” he snickered into her breasts. His nose almost touched the tiny bag that hung around her neck. “Just needed a little motivation, I guess. Love is a great motivator. Although I must admit, I kinda liked it when you screamed my name.”

“Mm. I’ll keep that in mind. Although I would think you’d be used to hearing that in concert.”

“Not quite the same,” he replied dryly, and made her giggle again.

They did sleep, eventually, and woke when dawn peeked in the bedroom windows for a hurried shower and a bite of breakfast. Ironically, where Lyneve had sleepwalked through half the previous evening in an incredulous haze, she felt quite firmly grounded in reality in morning light. The difference was in acceptance. Her world had expanded, to include a normal life for her beloved child. It also included the man yawning and scratching his damp scalp at her kitchen table. When he grinned boyishly at her from behind a mixing bowl full of corn flakes, she found it hard not to recall the feel of his stubble scraping against her most delicate spots and sending her places she had never been.

The first jolt to her euphoria occurred when Clay pulled the SUV into Sacred Heart’s parking lot, and groaned, “Ohh crap, look.” The hospital’s front entrance was jammed with people, and TV station vans lined the fire lane.

“We’ll never get in that way.” Lyneve had a brainstorm. “Turn left here and go around.” She directed him toward the fire door she had used to sneak in and out, only to find it had its own contingent of reporters on watch. “Damn! Somebody in housekeeping must’ve told them.” She tried not to wad the freshly laundered uniform folded in her lap in her irritation.

Clay gave an angry grunt and hit his brakes—and then grinned evilly. Without a word, he wheeled the vehicle around and skirted the hospital in the opposite direction, stopping at a nondescript door with trash bags piled up to prop it open. “Cafeteria loading dock,” he explained as he came around to open her door and help her out. “Thank you, Kenny!”

As they cut through the hospital kitchen, Lyneve struggled not to laugh out loud. Clay greeted employees by name and with an obvious familiarity, and they stared in confusion. She was mildly surprised no one called him Kenny, until they reached the dining area and she spotted Kenny and Bel’s backs headed toward the door. She called their names; both spun, and blushed furiously. Each held two huge cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven. “Sunny wanted one, and her mouth looks much more healed, so I thought we should let her try a few bites,” Bel apologized. “If that’s okay with you, that is. We haven’t left her alone for long, just now, and one time when Kenny helped me, uh, nail something in my office.”

“That’s fine!” Lyneve smiled, appreciative of their caring. “Looks like she’s not the only hungry one though.”

“Nope,” Kenny agreed. “We’re both starvin’—“ He broke off with a grunt when Bel elbowed him. Clay was preoccupied with thoughts of media management, leaving Lyneve to ponder what her new friends had been up to…or what they had been nailing in Bel’s office…and decide, privately amused, she was probably better off not knowing.

On the peds floor, she was cheered to find Sunny bright-eyed and ready for the promised sweet roll. Clay was less excited with what awaited him: a message to call hospital administration. “I have no desire to talk to Lucas Todd, now or ever again,” he grumbled. The message was actually from the acting administrator, however, a Mrs. Sutter, who appeared on the floor within minutes. She was the plump, pleasant widow of Todd’s predecessor, who had been appointed to the largely ceremonial position of deputy administrator, until last night. For a figurehead, she had an impressive grasp of the hospital’s workings, and a great deal else, and Lyneve suspected she might not be a figurehead for long. At the moment, Mrs. Sutter’s concern, like Clay’s, was on the jostling mass of reporters outside. Clay made a quick call to his publicist, and between the three they worked out a quick plan for a press conference in the hospital chapel.

“That’ll work,” Mrs. Sutter said with evident relief, after phoning security to escort the press to their destination. “You should get all the credit you deserve, Mr. Aiken, for helping resolve this situation.”

Clay shook his head. “I don’t deserve all the credit, or even much of it. There’re a number of other people who recognized Sunny’s situation needed a closer look—Maribel, Dr. Kelso, the doctor who’s been seein’ her—was his name Dorian, Bel?—and of course, my personal assistant over here.” With a grin, he turned to Kenny, halted in the act of licking icing off his hand. “Whaddya say, my friend? Want to go down and meet the press with me?”

Lyneve saw Kenny’s shoulders tense, and his eyes widened. Old habits are hard to break, she thought sadly, and hoped he could.

Bel put her hand on his arm and opened her mouth, probably to reassure him it wasn’t a demand; but before she could speak, he swiped his pinky with his tongue and swallowed, then matched Clay’s grin. “Okey dokey,” he said.

+++

Clay hummed to himself as he navigated the dusty road from the tiny airstrip back to the village of Reina del Cielo. The plane carrying his mom and Fran Skinner-Lewis, who ran the Bubel-Aiken Foundation for him, had taken off safely, with two happy women on board. Fran had been understandably skeptical about Clay’s suggestion that they assist some anonymous clinic in rural Mexico, until she saw it for herself as he had several times over the past months. No one could see how hard Dr. Lopez and his small staff worked, what an efficient and caring place they had built in this little town, or how they treated each young patient as part of an extended family, and not be moved.

Why his mother had accompanied Fran, Clay still wasn’t sure. She claimed she needed a vacation from work, but she had hardly seemed on holiday. Clay had a suspicion she had wanted to check on him, to be sure he wasn’t being taken advantage of on any of several fronts. Secretly, he had worried that spending several days in close proximity to her new mother-in-law, on top of the concerns inherent in Sunny’s last follow-up visit to the doctor, might overstress Lyneve; but she hadn’t blinked, and whatever Faye had come looking for, she appeared to have left satisfied. In the four days of her visit, she had put on her interior designer’s hat and advised the clinic staff how to spruce up their building on a tight budget, and hugged and kissed all over Lyneve before departing. As for Sunny, well, resistance was futile. Faye adored her new grandchild, and Sunny followed her Nana Faye’s every step. Now Faye and Fran were on their way back to the States, Fran to get the ball rolling for one of the foundation’s first international grants, and Faye to LA to tackle her latest project—organizing Kenny and Maribel’s wedding.

The thought of his mother’s formidable presence terrifying haughty caterers made Clay giggle. Kenny had lived in shadow, needlessly, for too darn long, and Clay was determined his buddy’s wedding should rival any pop star in Hollywood. It would definitely outdo Clay’s own, which Clay minded not at all. The bright summer sun shone through the SUV windshield and glinted off the simple gold band on his left hand, bringing a smile to his lips as he turned into the clinic’s dirt parking area. He and Lyneve had been married the month before, in Raleigh, quietly. Lyneve’s two surviving brothers had come down from Pennsylvania, and a bug in the ear of a couple of Senators Clay knew had wangled Brett a week’s pass from the Marines to be his big brother’s best man.

The wedding had been fit in just before Clay’s tour began in late spring. Leaving his new wife and daughter had not been high on his list of favorite things, but Sunny did need to get back into school, and the school had to be educated about her rare but manageable condition. Clay parked the SUV and walked around the side of the low cinder block building that housed the clinic. Among the children playing in the fenced back lot, he spotted Sunny immediately in her bright purple roller-skating helmet and matching knee and elbow pads. The protection for her fragile body, along with the training for her teachers, the stretching exercises she did daily, and much, much more, were Maribel’s ongoing contribution from her knowledge base as an OT. Kenny had put in more than his two cents’ worth too, scouring the Net for diet and nutrition information, and compiling pages of notes for them on which foods Sunny should eat, which she should avoid, what vitamins to take, and more. The man who had been told he would never amount to anything had an incredible gift for reading swiftly through the densest material and pulling out the important bits.

The lot was a poor place for kids to play, and one of Clay’s proposals to Fran was for the BAF to build a real, inclusive playground that all the children being treated by Dr. Lopez could use. Sunny hopped off a decrepit merry-go-round, with all the care she had been taught, and started to push another child’s wheelchair toward a water fountain. She had become quite a little caregiver during her visits to Reina del Cielo. Clay and Lyneve jokingly argued over which one of them she had ‘inherited’ that trait from.

Sunny spied Clay standing at the fence as she helped her little friend stand to get a drink. She sat the other girl back in her chair and said something in Spanish, then raced across the lot and jumped up and down with excitement until Clay opened the gate. “Hi, Clay!!” she squealed and hugged him. He didn’t know if she would ever call him dad, or any variation thereon, and didn’t particularly care. He recalled his own struggles to reconcile biological and stepfather, and he would not make her feel obligated to a word not of her choosing. He loved her, and she him, and names were irrelevant. “Can I stay and eat supper with Dr. Lopez and the kids? He says it’s okay. See?”

She pointed across the lot. The doctor was easy to miss amid the children, since he was barely over four feet tall himself. He had, Clay would guess, had his share of hard times due to that, and though his English was limited he and Clay had bonded instantly; they shared a love for children, and for the outcast, that could not be faked. Now, in response to Sunny’s call, he extricated himself from the happy crowd and came over. “Senor Clayton! Asuncion, she can stay to eat with us?”

“I think she’d like a little more time with you all, since we’re goin’ home tomorrow. I’ll check with her mom, but I think it’s okay.” It would also give Clay and Lyneve a bit more time to themselves together, before plunging back into the real world---this time with all three of them on the tour bus, since school had just let out for summer. Bel was coming too, taking three months’ leave from Sacred Heart to work directly with Sunny on her exercises and posturing; and of course, though she refused to say it, to be with Kenny. The new album was gathering excellent reviews, with the tracks including Kenny’s backup vocals among the most highly praised, and Clay was determined to get the guy on stage at some point during the summer. Maybe they could overwhelm his leftover anxiety through strength of numbers. The bus was going to be one busy, chaotic place (especially with Raleigh thrown into the mix—he thanked heaven Lyneve and Sunny both loved her), and Clay looked forward to it with a little trepidation and a lot of excitement. “We’ll come over and get her later,” he continued. “What time?”

“Oh—“ Dr. Lopez frowned in that way that meant he was mentally translating. “Time—we go into bed, it is the ten?”

“Ten o’clock? Cool. We’ll get her out of your hair before then.”

Clay forgot not to use slang, and Sunny had to translate this time. Dr. Lopez only laughed. “She is precious, not in the hair at all! Go be with your senora a while.” Clay tried not to blush as Sunny ran off laughing to rejoin her friends, and he turned his steps toward the cottage they were staying in. It was one of two, and old. Most families who brought children to Reina del Cielo stayed in a ratty old motel out by the main highway from California, and Clay wanted to put additional BAF money into building a number of small but nice cottages on the grounds; land was the one thing Dr. Lopez was rich in, other than heart—and discretion. When he had first accompanied Lyneve and Sunny to the clinic, he had been pleasantly surprised to be welcomed no differently than any other gawky American who sunburned walking from the car to the front door. He had almost concluded that the notoriety of American Idol and its aftermath had not penetrated to this corner of the world, when he surprised a gaggle of female clinic staff playing a well-worn cassette copy of Measure of a Man and giggling. Clearly, they knew who he was; they simply chose not to bug him about it, and he appreciated that more than his few words of badly pronounced Spanish could convey. He thought they got it, though, judging from the close conversations he frequently observed between them and Lyneve.

The cottage windows were rolled up and open, and he saw Lyneve standing in the living room on her cel phone. The wind off the nearby ocean played with the sheer brightly colored robe she wore, and made it balloon outward, giving a momentary illusion of her belly large with child. The vision stopped Clay, a brief foresight of the thrill he would one day experience when the fancy became real. He wanted this woman to have his children, with a fervor his love for the children he taught had only hinted at. Until then, of course, they would just have to keep practicing at the production…If she’s wearin’ that little terrycloth playsuit up under that robe, we may be late pickin’ Sunny up. He loved what she could make him feel when they made love, and he adored making her feel. Embracing his long-ignored sexuality had yielded some unexpected dividends, although he had sort of backed into them. Clive swore Clay’s voice had changed in recent months, taken on a richness the producer had a hard time explaining. That had not, however, kept him from sending Clay back into the studio to recut four tracks before the album’s release, all of them love songs. Clay didn’t hear himself singing them any different, but everyone else insisted they did, so who was he to argue?

With a chuckle, Clay imagined himself slipping up behind her like a passionate bandito, a fantasy deflated when she ended her phone call and spied him through the open window. Her smile was huge and welcome, and he abandoned his sneak attack for a full frontal kiss when he walked in. “I was just talking to Kenny!” she said excitedly when he released her mouth. “He just spoke with his cousin Jake.”

Clay froze, the desert heat of his waking desire chilled within him. “Say that again?” he asked slowly, suddenly fearful for his friend.

“Detective Archer called him this morning with some very interesting news. Apparently his investigation hit pay dirt in a big way. When Kenny turned up missing, his uncle was just sober enough to remember that woman Betty being there. He confronted her, and she, from reports, threw a screaming fit reminiscent of Liz Taylor in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. And he threw her out, and poured the last of his liquor down the toilet. The older boy, Bryce, didn’t seem to care much, it seems; but Jake, the one closest to Kenny’s age, was heartbroken. Based on my experiences with kids at risk for violence and such, sometimes a shock is enough to turn them around, and sometimes they honestly don’t realize what they’re doing to another child until it’s too late, or almost.” Clay sat down hard in the big wicker papasan chair in the corner, and listened open-mouthed. “He and his dad searched for three years for Kenny, all over the country. After that long, Jake decided it was too late; Kenny must be dead, or they would’ve found him. Jake went into seminary, of all things. The shock changed Trent too; he sobered up and held a job, so he could afford to keep hunting for Kenny. He wouldn’t give up. His brother had left his son in his care, and his neglect had destroyed the child, and he wasn’t going to stop until he had made amends somehow. He didn’t stop looking…until he was diagnosed with liver cancer last year.” Clay bit his lip, the human cost of this story beginning to sink in. “Anyway, Detective Archer pulled this all together without anyone knowing, then called Kenny to see if he wanted to get in touch with them. Kenny said his ear was sore—he just spent over two hours on the phone with Jake. He’s a minister in Virginia now, married with two little girls. Trent isn’t doing well; he’s in hospice care, but Jake seemed sure he would want to hold on till he could see Kenny. Kenny was fretting about getting there, but I told him I suspected you would want him to use your business credit line for the plane tickets.” Clay nodded vigorously. “Bel is going with him, of course.”

“Of course,” Clay echoed and blinked away tears. “Wow…Thank the Lord it wasn’t too late.”

“Absolutely. And in case you’re feeling particularly big-brotherly protective, we can meet Jake next month—I think right now the plan is for him to come out to California to perform Kenny’s wedding.”

“Perfect. I’ll try to catch Mom later and tell her what’s up. And Kenny ought to have his cel with him, shouldn’t he? Maybe I can get him later tonight too.” Clay finally remembered to explain to Lyneve where their child was. She grinned. “She’ll like a little more time with the kids here, before spending the whole summer on a tour bus with grownups. And—“ She plopped down astraddle Clay’s lap. “I’d like a little more time with my husband to myself.”

Her robe tie loosened as she leaned in to kiss him, and sure enough, underneath it was the white terry romper. Clay pulled the elastic at the top downward to expose her beautiful breasts and got a double handful, eliciting a little cry of pleasure from her mouth pressed to his. Then he reached for the robe sides to pull them over her and adjourn to the bedroom, but she caught his wrists and pinned them to the chair arms. “Darlin’, shouldn’t we—“ The rest of the sentence was lost in a gasp as she scooted up in the chair and ground her pelvis hard against his. “Lyneve, uh—aah—the house is wide open…”

“Then we’ll just have to hope nobody happens by, won’t we? Because I don’t want to move just now.” She had a point; frankly, Clay wasn’t sure he could walk if he wanted to—or if she would let him up. He arched against her helplessly, clenching the chair arms, and moaning into her mouth as she kissed him hard again. She loved it when he was forceful with her, but he loved it when she returned the favor. “And even—mmm—even if they did—I wouldn’t mind them knowing what an irresistible man I married.” She released his wrists to unzip the fly of his shorts, stroking him while he bit his lip, rolled his head back and forth and tried not to yell.

His hands found her breasts again, and she flung back her head, her sun-bleached hair wild. She rose on her knees long enough for him to pull the playsuit down, then smiled and settled herself onto him with a soft groan. “Well…uhhgh…I don’t want them knowing what a beautiful woman I married!” he growled and pulled the robe to fall around her and conceal her nakedness from the world. He gripped her hips and pulled her hard against him; now it was her turn to gasp with surprise as he took control of her movements, hammering at her till they both climaxed, mouths locked together to feed on each other’s cries of ecstasy. They collapsed together in a happy sweaty heap in the chair. “I need a shower,” Clay sighed after a while spent enjoying the feel of her in his arms and himself inside her.

“Mmm.” Lyneve sat up and licked her lips.

“A shower, woman! It’s after six. Any more extracurricular activity, and Sunny’ll end up spendin’ the night with Dr. Lopez and Miz Juanita.”

“True,” she sighed. She stole one more deep wet kiss before regretfully sliding free of him and reclaiming her discarded clothing. “Race you to the bathroom,” she giggled and was gone.

“No fair! I got more equipment to replace than you do!” Clay’s protests notwithstanding, they both got their showers (only showers). They drove up the road to a little family café where they had eaten several times during their stays; the food made anything Clay had ever had at Baja Fresh taste like the paper wrapper on a Big Mac.

Afterward, Lyneve suggested a walk on the beach. Clay still wasn’t especially fond of water, but the evening air was inviting, and he had almost gotten used to watching the sun set over the ocean rather than rising. The stretch was nearly deserted, and they meandered along. Lyneve wiggled her purple-painted toes in the sand and startled some little crabs to flight. She giggled, and then squealed and bent over. “Look!” she said and held up her find, a shiny peso coin. “An angel is thinking of you.”

Clay smiled. “How do you know the angel is thinkin’ of me, and not you?”

Her grin widened. “Because I said so.” She pressed it into his palm and closed his fingers around it.

“Since it’s a Mexican coin, I’m guessin’ it’s a Mexican angel. But I have two angels in Mexico right now. How do I know which one it came from?”

Lyneve’s eyes softened; he knew she understood. “Who said you had to choose?”

“Not me.” They kissed, and Clay lifted the little bag she wore from her chest and opened it. “Why dontcha keep it in here for me, with your angel?”

“Togetherness. That’s a good thing.”

They started back up the beach toward the SUV. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

She gave him a perceptive look. “That certainly had the tone of a revelation.”

“Sort of. I think I’m realizin’ what I’ve been missin’ in LA. I had my work, and a house, and sure, I love my dog and spoil her rotten. But I didn’t have any…connections. Now, I—well, it’s like I’m puttin’ together my own family. Kenny’s practically my brother—did I tell you Clive says our voices blend like we were kin? And that makes Bel like a sister-in-law. And then of course, you, and Sunny, and all those little white brothers and sisters she wants—“ Lyneve made a noise half appalled and half amused. “Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t want a few!”

“As you told me once, Mr. Aiken, ‘I’m not a liar’.”

Clay snickered and nipped her neck. “I’m gettin’ roots out here now,” he said, wondering if he was making any sense. “My past is still in North Carolina, but my present and my future are here. I’ve got friends, and people I love, in California. When I leave Los Angeles, I’ve got a reason to hurry back now. It feels like home.”

“It is,” she said simply. “I think I’ve been missing that too, till I found Sunny, and now you. Now I don’t want for anything.”

They returned to the clinic as dusk began to wash the skies. Sunny and several young patients were engaged in a noisy game of loteria when they arrived. It was played like bingo except with pictures. Clay joined in for a few minutes, and since each picture was labeled, he picked up a few more words of Spanish. When Sunny’s eyelids began to droop though, he scooped her up and carried her back to the cottage. While Lyneve got her ready for bed, Clay phoned his mom to update her. Faye was suitably but happily surprised by the news about Kenny’s family, and promised to pull together as much as she could before he and Bel returned from the East Coast.

He was about to try Kenny’s cel when Lyneve informed him Sunny was ready for bed. Tucking in was a nightly ritual his hands and heart had taken to with equal and instant familiarity. When he entered her bedroom, she was sitting up in bed in her Disney Princess pajamas, ready for their nightly prayer. He had thought first of kneeling by the bed, until Bel advised against it to avoid stress on Sunny’s knees; all her joints were made more delicate by her disease, and he frankly doubted God cared what position you were in when you called on Him. He sat down on the bed and took her little hands gently in his while she reeled off her usual laundry list of anything and anyone she thought needed prayer, including her teacher’s old car and a friend’s sick pet lizard. “…and God bless Kenny and Maribel, and Kenny’s uncle Mama Eve told me about, he’s really sick, and all the kids at the clinic, and Dr. Lopez and senora Juanita, and Nana Faye, and especially Raleigh, and Mama Eve and Daddy Clay. Amen!”

Clay thought his heart might stop. “I never heard you say that before,” he said with an effort at casual tone as she got under the covers. “’Daddy Clay’, I mean.”

“No…but other kids have daddies and me, I don’t. I mean, I guess I do someplace, but I don’know who he is or where, and he don’t know me. So would you mind being my daddy? If not it’s okay, ‘cause I know I’m not really your kid—“

“Yes, you are,” he forced past the sudden knot in his throat. “You are my daughter, Sunny. You are and you always will be. And I will always, always be your daddy.”

Her tiny shoulders settled as if tension he hadn’t even seen had suddenly gone out of them, or a burden had lifted. She reached out and he gathered her into his arms. “I got the best daddy in the whole world,” she whispered.

“And I have the best little girl.” He tucked her in and kissed her forehead, then turned off the light and slipped out. Lyneve stood in the open doorway; she smiled, and reached for his face, and brushed away a tear he had had no idea was there. Togetherness. That’s a good thing. The best thing in the whole darn world. Clay grinned, and sat down to call Kenny, to share his friend’s good news, and his own.

~The End~

-- Thanx & big hugs to Lecherous Broads Shari, Jill & Merry, & to Nisa from RHT/EAYOR, for road testing this epic as it grew. Your interest & comments helped make it what it is, ladies.

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~Posted 6.03.2005~

You can contact the author at theleewit@mindspring.com

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