I wrap my limbs tightly around him and melt into his touch. I can’t recall a time I’ve ever been this happy or felt this consumed by Neil.
~~~
We are dangerously close to missing our plane.
I stare at Neil’s long fingers holding mine as we run down the ramp toward the waiting plane. I’m struggling to keep pace with Neil.
“Hurry up, Chrissie. If we miss the plane we’ll miss Jack’s party. We should have left last night.”
“I didn’t want to leave last night. And I’m trying to hurry, but I have to take two steps for each one of yours. And you fucked all the energy out of my legs.”
He pulls me against him. “You want to start a family right away, that’s how you do it. Marathon fucking.”
I flush, hoping that no one near us heard that, and then crinkle my nose since marathon fucking isn’t the least bit romantic of a phrase.
Jeez, why are guys such jerks at times?
Before I can stop him, Neil has my black bag under an arm and is lifting me in the air to set me on his shoulder.
“Put me down, Neil. This is humiliating.”
“We’re not going to make it at your speed.”
He carries me at a jogging pace to the boarding gate. He is panting by the time we reach it. He helps me slide down to the floor, but his strong arm keeps me close against him. He is kissing my neck, my hair, and pushing me forward in line with the lower part of his body.
Yuck, we are being watched, even stared at. I try to pull away and Neil holds me in place.
“You have to excuse us. We just got married,” Neil says loudly, to no one in particular.
I flush, embarrassed, but suddenly people all around us are smiling. Somehow he manages to kiss my neck, hand the boarding passes to the attendant and continue the gentle massage of his lower body pushing me forward.
We run down the ramp, barely onto the plane before the door shuts, and drop into our seats.
Once we’re in the air, I curl into Neil, and put my cheek against his shoulder.
“I don’t want to tell my dad we got married during the party. I want to wait until tomorrow, OK?”
Neil gives me an exasperated look. “You should have called Jack before, like I told you to. It might have been picked up by the wire services. He might already know. We should tell him when get there.”
Crap, I hadn’t thought of that.
“Today, but after the party. Privately. Not surrounded by people.”
He gives me the look, the Chrissie is being confusing and a pain look, but he nods and sets back his head, closing his eyes.
“I don’t want to stay at the party very long,” I add. “And I definitely don’t want to stay at my dad’s house. Let’s get a room down by the beach.”
“Fine, Chrissie.”
I kiss him on the jaw and close my eyes.
Ninety minutes later, we’re in the Santa Barbara Airport terminal, grabbing our bags and rushing for the rental car counter.
Once we’re on the road, I grab my black bag and freshen up my makeup in the visor mirror. I shove my stuff back into the bag as we pass beneath the black metal arch of Hope Ranch.
I turn to face Neil. “Do I look OK?”
“You’re beautiful, Chrissie. You always look beautiful.”
We pull into my dad’s driveway and are stopped by a valet. Shit, there are a ton of cars here, valet parking and people everywhere. Jack went all out for the foundation fundraiser this year.
A guy in a red vest and black pants taps on our window. Neil rolls it down.
“You can’t park in the driveway,” he says.
I lean across Neil and stare at the valet. “Can you move that barrier so we can park in the garage? This is my house. I’m Christian Parker.”
The guy flushes, embarrassed, and pulls back the sawhorse blocking the driveway. We park and climb from our seat.
I take in a deep breath. “We made it. We’re here.”
Neil laughs, lying his arms on my shoulders. “God, you are crazy today. What’s up with that?”
“This is a really big thing for my dad. He doesn’t do parties. He does one party a year to raise money for the foundation. The inner city music programs were my mom’s work. I think it’s Jack’s way of making everyone remember my mother. It’s important to him. He was really upset I didn’t come last year.”
Neil’s face grows sweetly sympathetic. “Then I’m glad we made it in time for the party, too. And I won’t mention we got married, though I want to. And I won’t try to maneuver you into a bedroom during the party to make love to you today.” His eyes do a rakish once-over of me. He grins ruefully. “Nope, won’t do that either, even though you are wearing that little black dress that drives me insane.”
He takes my hand and I’m laughing as we rush to the front door.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I sit on a white-cushioned rattan couch, part of one of the intimate groupings scattered all across the lawn. Everywhere there are people, a band on the stage, long buffet tables and bars, lawn lights lit, and fire pits near the seating to heat up the misty air of early evening rolling inland from the Pacific.
It’s a magnificent party. Jack went all out this year. He was so happy when he spotted us crossing the lawn, his magnificent blues twinkling. He cut out of the circle around him to immediately trot across the grass to give me a hug. It made me smile that he hugged Neil, too.
I take a sip of champagne from the flute dangling from my fingertips, and my gaze rests on Neil. He’s enjoying this party almost as much as Jack is. We’ve been sitting with the Delmos, laughing and talking for four hours.
It’s just been that kind of thing. A pleasant kind of industry party. These strange personalities pulled together for a cause, checkbooks open, everyone having a good time, laughing and talking and crowding the dance floor.
I love that Jack put it near the cliffs this year. My gaze fixes on my dad. Jeez, he’s dancing with Linda Rowan. It was a shock to arrive and find the Rowans here. I didn’t even know that they were friends with Jack. Maybe they are not friends. When Delmo arrived he stared at the gathering and called them the fat wallet club.
I don’t know. It’s strange that Jack has spent so much of the evening with Linda, and more strange that he’s dancing. And even stranger, the Rowans came without any of the others from the Blackpoll mob. They’re such a cliquish circle. Though I should be relieved none of the others are here. If I ever see Kenny Jones again it will be too soon.
Neil breaks in his conversation with Vincent, leans back into the cushion and looks at me. “What’s wrong? You’ve got the strangest look on your face.”
I shake my head to chase away that kind of irked and don’t know why feeling. I smile. “This is going to sound lame. But I’ve never seen my dad dance before.”
Neil looks in the direction of my stare. “So Jack’s dancing. What’s the big deal?”
“He doesn’t even know Linda Rowan and they’ve been dancing together most of the night.”
“Jack’s probably trying to be a good host. It doesn’t look like Len is interested in anything but that brunette practically sitting on his lap.”
I look across the lawn at the couch Len Rowan hasn’t moved from all evening, and make a face. Poor, poor Linda. I don’t know how she puts up with Len, his roving hand and his dedication to fuck everything that moves right in her face.
“Shit, don’t ever let us become like them, Chrissie. I don’t know why some people get married.”
“I don’t know why anyone gets married,” Nicole announces and then shudders.
I bite my lip and then Neil gives it a playful tug. My gaze moves back to the dance floor against my will. I don’t know why I’m bothered by this.
Neil notices my preoccupation again.
“I tell you one thing, if anyone ever danced with you the way Jack is with Linda, I’d punch them, Chrissie.”
Startled, I turn to stare at Neil. “What? What do you mean by that?”