Blue Skies (27 page)

With that whispered invitation, he increased his speed with powerful surges of his hips. She gasped at the fiery spurts of sensation that streamed through her. She hadn’t believed anything could feel better than what she’d already experienced.

Paradise.
He’d promised her paradise. She could now testify with absolute conviction that Hank Coulter was a man of his word.

At the break of dawn, Carly awakened to find herself wrapped in Hank’s strong arms. It was the loveliest feeling to have his big, warm body curled around her. She touched her fingertips to the dark, springy hair on his chest, explored his flat, penny-sized nipples, cupped her hand to a hard pad of breast muscle, and wished. Wished that he’d wake up. Wished that he’d tease her nipples with his hot, silky mouth—and then leisurely devour her.

He cracked open one blue eye. His firm mouth immediately tipped into a devastating grin. “You lookin’ for trouble, lady?”

Carly nodded.

He chuckled and opened both eyes to regard her with some surprise. “Where’d my shy little angel get off to?”

“She’s seen the error of her ways.” Carly pushed at his shoulder to put him flat on his back. Then she straddled his thighs. “It was excruciatingly boring, being an angel.” She leaned back to look at his body, admiring the hard planes and padded contours as she trailed her fingertips over his striated belly to the thatch of dark hair nested around his manhood. “You’re so pretty.”

His eyes darkened with desire as he moved his gaze over her. “Do you realize you’re stark-naked and sitting, bold as can be, in a stream of sunlight?”

Carly glanced down. Then she grinned. “That’s a visual concept.”

“Meaning?” he asked, his voice grating with desire.

“What’s naked, exactly? Until last night, I’d never seen naked except in a mirror.”

“Does that mean you could greet me at the door in an apron, spike heels, and nothing else without feeling self-conscious?”

“Spike heels? I’d break an ankle. Will you settle for low-heeled pumps?”

He came up off the bed so swiftly that Carly was caught in the circle of his arm, flipped onto her back, and pinned before she could even squeak in surprise. “You’ll cook me dinner, wearing nothing but an apron?”

“If you want.”

He bent to nibble her breasts. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Carly was halfway there herself. Her insides curled and tingled with every pull of his mouth. She tucked in her chin to watch. When he caught her at it, his eyes danced with mischief. “Making memories, Carly Jane?”

She nodded. “I want to remember all of it. Everything about you.”

He reared back to lightly run a hand from her chest to her thighs. “Sunlight has never touched anything so beautiful as you.
Nothing
.”

After making that heartfelt proclamation, he set himself to the task of giving her a treasure trove of visuals to store away in her mind.

Chapter Nineteen

A
ll too soon to suit Carly, the trip to Portland was behind them, and the week of sight-seeing was over. True to his word, Hank had shown her zebras, giraffes, camels, monkeys, apes, tigers, and lions, and she’d seen some beautiful scenery as well, including Mount Hood, the Columbia Gorge, and Mount St. Helen’s. She was glad of every memory because the news she’d received from the specialist wasn’t good. The lattice dystrophy had gained a strong foothold in her already diseased corneas and was now cracking and hardening their surface at an alarming rate. Merrick couldn’t predict how long it would be before she went blind, but without his saying a word, Carly knew it would happen soon.

She refused to feel depressed about it. Hank had filled her mind with so many beautiful memories. She hugged those close for comfort, knowing they’d be with her in the darkness, images in full color that not even the lattice could steal from her.

On Tuesday night, July 15, when they returned to the ranch, Carly expected Hank to hotfoot it to the stable. He’d been gone for a week, and she knew he had work to do. Instead, he returned to the cabin shortly after leaving, his arms laden with black boxes and dangling cords.

“Stereo. Had it in my room at the main house. May as well enjoy it here.”

After setting it up, he put on a CD, caught Carly in his arms, and proceeded to waltz her around the house. When she grew dizzy from swirling, she laughed and said, “Don’t you have something else to do?”

“Nothing as important as this.”

He stopped dancing to kiss her. As always, the kiss ignited them both, and soon they were moving toward the bedroom, dropping articles of clothing as they went. Once on the bed, he pleasured her with his hands and mouth until she thought she could bear it no longer.

“Hank?” she whispered. “
Please
.”

He nibbled on the sensitive skin under her ear. “No mercy,” he breathed. “I’m going to tease you until you beg me for it, and then I’ll make you climax so many times you can’t move, can’t think—until you just lie there, all mine from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.”

He followed through on the promise, expertly using his talents to push her to the very edge, only to soothe her throbbing flesh at the last second and bring her back down. It was heavenly torture, and soon Carly’s body was quivering with frantic need, the urges within her molten and primal.

“Please, please, please,” she sobbed.

With a low rumble of masculine satisfaction, he gave her release, only to tease her back to a fever pitch again and then draw on her until she pitched in the throes of orgasm, every muscle in her body beset with spasms of delight.

Much later, Carly couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and was entirely his. Only then did he come to her—and take her with him to paradise once more.

“Wake up, gorgeous.”

Carly groaned and drew the blankets over her head. “What time is it?”

“Seven. The day’s wasting.” Hank jerked the covers off of her, playfully swatted her bare fanny, and said, “If you aren’t up in two seconds flat, I’ll stick you under a cold shower. I want to take you shopping.”

All Carly wanted was to sleep. “I don’t get up until eight.”

She squeaked when he scooped her up in his arms. “I warned you.”

She clung to his neck, laughing sleepily. “Don’t you
dare
put me in a cold shower. I’m wicked when I get even.”

He carried her to the bathroom, set her on her feet, and bent to adjust the water temperature. “How’s about a warm one then?”

“Shopping for what?” She rubbed under her eyes. “I hate to shop.”

“Baby stuff.” He turned on the shower and dipped his dark head to kiss her, the glide of his mouth sweet and slow. “I want you to see everything. Little pajamas, T-shirts, blankets, a cradle, and a crib. Interested yet?”

“Do we have the money?”

“Money, money, money. Your needle’s stuck in a groove.” He grasped her elbow and steered her into the tub. She gasped when the warm water struck her body. He jerked the curtain closed. Then, just as quickly, he partly opened it again. “On second thought, can I watch?”

She laughed and flicked water in his face. “Go away. After last night, you can’t possibly be thinking about
that
.”

“Men think about
that
on an average of every three minutes.”

She threw him a startled look. “You’re kidding.”

“God’s truth, I swear. It’s a statistic. We think about it while we work, while we eat, while we talk. Then we dream about it.” He grinned and grabbed the bar of soap. “Do you know how sensuous it is to have someone wash your body with soap-slicked hands?”

“Later, cowboy. I’m all used up.”

Hank grinned and soaped his hands anyway. Just a kiss heated her up. He leaned in to grab her arm. She squeaked and swayed toward him. Her lashes fluttered when he ran a hand over her rosy-pink nipples, which hardened and peaked at the brush of his palm. God, how he loved her. She responded to him so readily, each surrender so sweet that he couldn’t get enough of her.

As he played with her nipples, rubbing and tweaking until they swelled, she moaned and let her head fall back. Every line of her slender body was perfectly formed, her skin a satiny alabaster that fascinated him. He wanted her with an insatiable need that couldn’t be slaked, no matter how many times he took her.

Later, Hank was never quite sure how it happened, but somehow he ended up in the shower with her, fully clothed, boots and all.

It was the best sex he’d ever had in his life.

“We can’t afford an eight-hundred dollar crib,” Carly protested three hours later.

Hank signaled to the floor clerk. “We’ll take it,” he said.

“Hank!”
Carly clutched his shirtsleeve. “That’s way too much money.”

“It makes down into a youth bed,” he argued. “Two for the price of one.”

“Two for the price of three, don’t you mean? We can get something much less expensive.”

“Where, at the Goodwill?”

Carly gave up and let him go. And to her horror, he went. They bought sheets, bumper pads, darling little unisex sleepers, blankets, and slippers. At the end of the shopping spree, Hank had spent almost four thousand dollars, and they were the proud owners of an oak crib, a hand-tooled cradle, a bath table, a baby bureau, a high chair, a playpen, a swing, a car seat, three mobiles, assorted baby toys, and more clothing and blankets than any one baby could ever possibly need.

On the way home, he flashed her a grin and said, “When we find out if it’s a boy or a girl, we’ll go back for more outfits.”

Carly groaned. “I’m glad we’ve decided on taking a shot at forever. Paying you back for everything would take me into the next millennium.”

He lowered his brows and scowled at her. “Are you under the mistaken impression that you no longer have to pay me back?”

He was always so generous that Carly could scarcely believe her ears.

“The financial arrangement stands,” he said firmly. “You still have to pay me back.” The corners of his mouth twitched. He sent her a twinkling, purely devilish look. “The way I see it, you can work off the debt—starting tonight.”

She gave a startled laugh. “Your boots haven’t even dried out yet, and already you’re thinking about next time?”

“Yeah. You game?”

She was always game. The most wonderful thing about that was that the sex wasn’t
just
sex. It was sweet, beautiful lovemaking.

The next morning, Hank was at the junction store and happened to see a baby magazine in the rack. He plucked it out and started leafing through. When he came upon several pictures of babies, he wondered if Carly had ever even seen one. All the kids at the Fourth of July barbecue had been older. If she had seen an infant, it had probably been from a distance, which meant that she couldn’t have studied it and filed away the memories.

The thought that she might give birth to their child and have no clear idea of what it looked like bothered Hank. After leaving the store, instead of heading home, he drove into Crystal Falls to look around at the bookstore for baby publications. He wanted his wife to see all kinds of babies, fat ones, skinny ones, curly headed ones, and the funny-looking ones, with spikes of hair poking up. That way, when their child was born, he’d be better able to tell her how it looked.

When he left the store, Hank’s arms were laden with books. He’d even found a prenatal tome with pictures of fetuses at different stages of pregnancy. When he presented his finds to Carly an hour later, she began to cry.

“Oh, Hank.”

“What?” He bent over her where she sat at the table. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“I’m not sad,” she blubbered. “I’m h-happy.”

Could have fooled him.

Wiping away tears as she went through the collection, she came upon a magazine chock-full of baby pictures. “Oh, aren’t they
sweet
?” She laughed wetly. “Just look at him. Isn’t that the cutest little dimple you’ve ever seen?”

Hank sat with her to go through the books. They both became solemn as they perused the ultrasound photographs of fetuses in different stages of growth. “That’s ours,” she whispered, touching a fingertip to one picture. “And next month, he’ll look like this.”

“He?” Hank leaned around to steal a quick kiss. “I want a girl who looks like you.”

“Too bad. I want a boy who looks like you.”

“We’ve encountered a serious glitch then,” he said with mock sternness. “And there’s only one way to resolve the problem, having two kids, one for me, and one for you.”

She smiled dreamily and went back to looking at babies. “Next time, we’ll have to plan things much more carefully. The doctor will want me to get pregnant right before a transplant when my corneas are about shot so the lattice can do no real damage.”

Hank hadn’t thought of that. “Well, then.” He caught her chin and made her look at him. “No more babies. We’ll just have the one—or we’ll adopt. I don’t want you to be blind for nine months in order to have another child.”

“I want it to be ours.”

“An adopted child will be ours.”

Her eyes went bright with tears. He could tell she wanted to argue, but something held her back.

Hank had always hoped to have a passel of kids—and he naturally wanted them to be his biological children, if possible. But at what cost?

As Carly’s sight worsened over the next two weeks, Hank juggled his work schedule to take her on day trips. When they weren’t off somewhere playing, he helped her reorganize all the cupboards. Coffee, third cupboard, second shelf, first can on the right.

“I can do this,” he assured her. “If I have to, I’ll label the edges of the shelves so I don’t forget where things go.”

Carly couldn’t help but be touched by Hank’s efforts. She went up on her tiptoes to hug his neck. “Most importantly, don’t forget where I’m at,” she said softly. “I want to enjoy being with you as much as I can while I can still see.”

He kissed her deeply, and before Carly knew it, she was in his arms, the cupboards forgotten.

After their lovemaking, Carly stretched languidly and slipped out of bed, her destination the shower. She had taken only three steps when her foot landed on something that rocked sideways, and she almost went crashing to the floor. Hank leaped to his feet in a flash.

“Are you okay?” He grabbed her arm as if he still feared she might fall. “My boot, you stepped on my boot. I’m sorry, honey. I’ll kick them under the bed from now on.”

“I’m fine, Hank. It was only a little stumble.”

Even as she reassured him, Carly knew she wasn’t truly fine. She hadn’t seen his boot. When, she wondered, had her eyesight become so poor? She glanced down, hoping against hope that she’d be able to see the floor planks. Instead, it looked as if a dense fog had gathered around her ankles. She turned her gaze to the wall at the opposite side of the room, and it, too, was obscured by fog.

Hank touched her shoulder. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Carly groped for her robe on the foot of the bed and slipped it on. “Nothing. I’m fine.” The return of her blindness shouldn’t have come as a shock. She just couldn’t quite believe it had sneaked up on her so quickly. Her throat went tight. “It’s time to start being a neat freak, though.” She forced a smile. “I can’t see the floor anymore.” She laughed and flapped her wrist. “How that happened without my noticing, I don’t know.”

He glanced down. “You can’t see it at all?”

She shook her head. Then, needing to be alone with the discovery for a few minutes, she hurried into the bathroom.

From that moment forward, Hank became a neat freak, never kicking off his boots and leaving them lie, never moving furniture and not putting it back, and always, always making sure he left the cupboards exactly as they had arranged them. Occasionally, when he slipped up, Carly couldn’t bring herself to say anything. He’d been so sweet, and he was trying so hard, how could she possibly complain?

A few days later, Hank was holding up flashcards for her when she realized he’d begun holding them much closer than in the past.

“How long have you been doing that?” she asked softly.

He didn’t pretend not to know what she meant. “I’m not sure. A while.” He returned the cards to the box. “I, um—” He cleared his throat and met her gaze. “Every time we use them, I have to hold them just a little closer.”

Looking at his face, it struck Carly like a dash of ice water that his features weren’t as clear as they’d once been. It was like looking at a photograph with brushed edges, the planes and lines indistinct.

She’d been so sure she was prepared for this—so sure she could deal with it when it happened. But it was much more difficult to accept than she’d expected. She knew what it was like to see now. She’d grown accustomed to it. Now, in too short a time, the shutters would be closed again.

In that moment, Carly knew that as much as she would miss seeing countless things, the one thing she would miss most was seeing Hank’s face.