The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) (6 page)

I stay, breaking Tally’s cardinal rule about that, especially considering it is the night before a playoff game, and essentially dismiss Cara’s possible confusion, and tell her we should have stopped honoring this weird ass moral code of hers weeks ago because we are together, and Cara's knows it. Tally’s not entirely convinced that me staying is such a great idea.

She stands there with her hands on her hips wearing nothing but one of my Giants orange and grey T-shirts. I get a glimpse of the filmy black material of her thong as she moves about the room. She knows I like that one too, and I am amused as to how she thought I was going to be able to walk out the door when she’s dressed like this.

Uh. No. I’m not leaving tonight.

“You should go.” She tries to sound convincing, but it doesn’t quite work, which causes me to laugh in just hearing her wistful, sexy tone.

“No.” I put my hands behind my head on the propped-up pillows and sink deeper into the bed with a contented sigh.

I like it when she’s like this. Conflicted is the only way to describe it. Being a sex goddess as well as a perfect mommy are these complete opposite roles. It makes her all the more charming that she doesn’t even see it.

“What?” she asks upon seeing the bemused look on my face.

“Nothing.”

“No, there’s more I can tell. What is it?”

“I have a surprise for you. You have to wait for it though. For a little while anyway. Just trust me.” I can’t help but smile. “You’re going to love it, but you have to wait a few more days before I can show it to you. It’s big. It’s a big surprise.”

“Okay,” she says looking wary now, “but you know I don’t like surprises of any kind.”

“I do. But this one? You’re going to love this one. It’s a good surprise.” My smile gets wider because there’s more to tell her. “So. I’ve been thinking about our situation, and I’ve got an idea of how to solve some things for you and me. Because let’s face it, you and me are all that matters.”

“Okay. I can agree with that much.” She climbs up onto the bed and settles down on my lap.

I hold her face between my hands ensuring I have her attention. “Let’s get married on Friday after my game tomorrow night. Let’s just go to courthouse and get it done. Then, it won’t matter when we get around to the big wedding for family and friends. We can do that whenever we want. Then, the pressure’s off in trying to plan a big wedding while I’m trying to win the World Series.”

She looks amazed for about five seconds and then the usual uncertainty flits across her features. “Are you sure? Elope now?”

“Marry me on Friday. Don’t cancel the Hollins House stuff just yet. Let me cover the bases with my dad before we start to unravel everything right away. We can follow up with Pastor Dan at Half Moon Bay for next July or something. That’s what we both really want, right? I’ll call him and see if that date is still available. I’ll take care of it. It’ll be epic. Okay?”

She loves this idea. I can see the relief on her face. “I thought we couldn’t do next July because of baseball?”

“You love that little church. We’ll keep it small so it’s doable. Spare no expense for food and drink and family and a few friends. No more grand scale stuff. Just small scale and amazing. The Giants can work around it; they’ll understand. It won’t be a problem. We won’t
make
it a problem.
I
won’t make it a problem. We’ll already be married by this Friday and you can have the sweet little wedding you really wanted looking out at the Pacific at Half Moon Bay. Say yes. Say yes to all of it.” I study her closely as she wrestles with all these competing thoughts. “Your mom will be better by then,” I say softly, trying not to upset her, but wanting her to face the reality of our situation.

The World Series and Tessa Landon’s rehab are both unexpected events that we’ve had to contemplate and factor in to all of our plans. “Cara will be settled.
Talking
.”

“Let’s hope.”

Tally doesn’t say anything for a long time. I can see her going through the pros and cons. “Elope. We couldn’t tell anybody. I’d need to break it to my mom gently, but only after a while. Dad would be okay, but Mom…” She hesitates. “Mom really wants to help me with a wedding. I don’t want to deny her that.”

“Okay. She’ll love Half Moon Bay and that little church plus it will give you two more time to plan it all.” She gets this little smile. “So we’ll get married on Friday and we won’t tell anybody,” I say slowly, “not even Charlie or Marla. Or my dad. For a while.”

“Not even Marla? That’s a tough one. So it would be just us?”

“Just us. The judge, you, me, two witnesses. That’s five just like Pastor Dan said.”

“After your playoff game,”Tally says slowly. “Just go to the courthouse on Friday and get married.”

“You love this idea. It’s all over your face. Marry me. On Friday. Say yes,” I say softly. “Be my wife. Say yes, Mrs. Presley.” I laugh at her shocked expression. “I can call you that because by Friday it’ll be reality. You’ll be Mrs. Lincoln Presley. Then, we can plan this amazing wedding at Half Moon Bay with Pastor Dan for your family, for your mom, and all of our close friends. But by this Friday, we’ll already be married. Mrs. Presley. I like the sound of that. And you’ll come running whenever I call you; right? Like a good wife should. Any time I call?”

She readjusts her hips even with mine and makes her intentions known as to what we’re going to do next. I’m hard for her in a matter of seconds because she does that to me. Tally the goddess. Just watching her walk can turn me on but being inside of her is an experience like no other. It's like this crossing over to this completely different plane of existence—this true bliss that’s so euphoric it’s hard to come back down from. The only thing I can compare it to is a really good narcotic that gets you beatifically high. That's
Tally
to me. She grabs my face and my full attention at the same time and slides her silky way down my shaft in one lithe, practiced dancer’s move. Her smile lights up her whole face. All is right with our world again. We both seem to share in this incredible feeling.

We’ve had plenty of sex. Slow languishing sessions and amazingly fast ones and lots of incredible ones in between where time and circumstance didn’t matter. We do seem to be making up for lost time and satiating this unbearable hunger as we move in on each other. Physical need and pent-up emotion overtake us both all over again.
I do love this girl.

I pay homage to God and experience this never-ending gratitude that we’re together finally. The fear of losing her still exists at a soul level, but when she’s like this—so sure of us—when we both really let go and allow each other to feel it, these rare moments prove to be our finest. Each one a perfect memory that I plan to hold onto for all of time. And yet, there is this real fear—the one buried deep in my soul—that still resonates and subtly reminds me that I could still lose her somehow. That it’s only a matter of time. That time is finite after all.

Time and the fear of losing. Hate those two things.

All I want is to make it through to the next day and the day after that, to the next season and the one after that, to the next year and the one after that, through the next decade—two, three, four and five—with Tally. That’s all I ask.

Whipped about this girl doesn’t come close to explaining it.

“So what do you say? Want to get married on Friday?” I ask out of breath as we finish.

“Yes. I say yes to all of it.” Tally laughs. Her miracle laugh. “You can start calling me Mrs. Presley right now if you want. And yes,” she says, “I’ll marry you on Friday, Lincoln Presley, just you, me, the judge, and two witnesses. It will be our secret until we’re ready to tell the world. Deal.”

“Deal. Any way you want it. You and Cara are all that matter to me. The World Series would be a big deal, but it’s nothing compared to being with you. You know that, right?”

“I know.” She traces my lips and I smile at first, but then it fades as the seriousness of the moment becomes all too real. “What is it?” she asks.

“Don’t ever leave me, okay? I don’t think I could take that.”

“I won’t,” she whispers.

We drink and breathe within the same realm of each other. Who knows what would happen if we were apart?

CHAPTER FIVE

Breathe (2AM) -TALLY

Bride-to-be. Me.
The owner of this exclusive shop is looking at me with dollar signs in her eyes. She tells me it’s French silk tulle from London. Expensive. Fine. Luxurious. Did I mention expensive? Did I mention London? Linc said, “Spare no expense.” Why not? He’s major league; we can afford to be extravagant about this wedding, about our lives.
Why not?

Silk satin. Gathered French silk tulle. London. Catherine
Deane.

Who cares?

Not the bride.

To be.

Me.

Not today.

Marla gives me the look—the one that perfectly anoints her my best friend. She gives me the all-knowing, I-know-you’re-feeling-fucking-crazy-Tally look.

She knows me well.

“I can’t breathe,” I whisper to the dressmaking doll assistant. She’s a mousy woman. Pale skin. Dark witchy-looking hair. She has straight pins lined across her lips which she removes one by one and works into the delicate fabric at the hemline like she’s working with a voodoo doll.

The owner rushes toward me. “Ms. Landon, are you all right?” Southern accent straight out of Georgia here in the upscale riches of San Francisco. I doubt she ever looks back. Her blond hair is swept high upon her head. She has the swankiest of bangs and will never look past thirty-five because of exceptional breeding and some expensive night creme she must use.

“I. Can’t. Breathe. Can we take this thing off, please?”

The owner, Jenna, starts to argue with me but when I start to gasp she finally complies and orders her assistant to help with the
zippuh
in the back and all those pearl buttons that must be quickly undone.

“Can you give me a minute? Thank you.”

Jenna gets this resentful look at my insistent tone but complies. The accusing swish of heavy expensive silk fabric clutched between them makes the only noise in the room besides my jagged breathing as she removes herself and the harried assistant from the dressing room. “We have what we need. Stella can make the final adjustments.”

French silk.

Tulle.

London.

Expensive.

Who cares?

“Okay. Out with it. You’re acting weirder than usual,” Marla says from behind me after they’ve gone.

I stare at my beautiful blond best friend in the mirror. Her hands are on her hips in the all too familiar stance of get-a-fucking-grip-Tally. She breathes out in exasperation even as I still gasp for air. I turn around and face her and just stand there feeling vulnerable and all but naked in the already bought and paid for lingerie purchased right after we first walked in. It’s some new-fangled bustier number that the shop owner insisted I put on with the wedding gown. White French silk. Expensive. There’s that word again. The dress and the lingerie equally expensive. The up-sale in this place proves to be fantastically obscene. We are already in the range of another five grand, and we have only been here for a little over an hour. I held my breath while the VISA went through the first time. I am dangerously close to my limit by the addition of these three things—the dress, the bustier and the lingerie to match in addition to the deposit for Hollins House and the catered food, as well as hiring the band, and ordering all the decorations and flowers. All these things add up and appear to be without end. I need to talk to Linc about all of it. He’s been busy. Out of town so much of the time. Distracted. We both have been.

It’s going to be fine. It’s all going to be fine.
He keeps saying this to me with every cell phone call or conversation we’ve had in the past twelve hours or so.

“Geez, Tally, you’re scaring me.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Which part?” Marla gets this vexed look.

She looks mighty fine in her matron of honor version of my dress. Swanky and lean in a hard to match periwinkle —a color so impossible to find—that I carry the Crayola crayon wherever we go, cajoling the florist to the cake decorator to the printer doing the invitations for the third time since the date has changed twice already that this is the color I want and to just make it happen.