I had to look away again from his steady brown-eyed gaze; and his voice, when at last he spoke, was flat and unemotional. “You’re in love with me.”
I nodded.
“And you still want to marry me.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, Deb’rah, since we’re being so open and upfront here, want to know why I joined the Army instead of going off to Carolina to play basketball?”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t trust myself to keep my hands off you if I stayed in the area.”
“What?”
He gave a rueful shrug. “I’ve been in love with you since I was nineteen.”
“But you never said— You never—”
“You were a kid, for God’s sake.”
“Listen, Dwight, I haven’t been a kid for a lot longer than I care to admit. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When the hell did I have a chance?” he asked indignantly. “Every time I came back to Colleton County, you were either over the moon for some guy or else swearing off men forever. Do you know what it’s been like these last two weeks, making love to you and you just calling it good sex? Trying to play it cool, trying not to come on too strong because I was afraid I’d scare you off? Dammit, Deb’rah! You have any idea how I felt when Underwood called me? To know every mile of the way that you could be dying?”
He glared at me across the table until the full import of his words finally sank in. I don’t remember if I was laughing or crying when I got up and went around to his side of the booth and into his arms. That part’s a blur.
What I do remember is that there was absolutely nothing brotherly about that kiss.
Nor the ones that followed.
I could have taken him right there in the booth, but hey! I still had a room, didn’t I?
And checkout wasn’t till one o’clock, right?
We made it with five minutes to spare.