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A second later, he poised himself over her. “That firecracker is you.”
“Well, come on, flyboy,” she said, hooking her heels to the backs of his knees. “I’m ready to take off again.”
His entrance was a single long stroke that stole her breath. Not because of the tiny snap of pain; that was nothing compared to the long, gratifying rapture of being completely connected to him. Mind, body and soul.
Knowing what to expect this time, Twyla participated for all she was worth. Every thrust Forrest gave, she welcomed, and lifted her hips to prepare for the next one. This flight was more fulfilling than her first one, more rewarding knowing that Forrest was enjoying it just as much as she, and when she found herself skyward, she rejoiced by shouting his name.
His body was rock-hard, driving into her with stamina and precision, and she cherished every second of climbing higher and higher with him. Together they flew past all their dreams and fantasies.
Twyla was at the point she could go no further, but wanted him at her side, and asked, “Now, Forrest?”
“Now, Twyla,” he growled in response.
Their joint completion left her speechless, and satisfied, and happy, and, most of all, full. There was no emptiness inside her heart now, and she knew there never would be again.
With the sun shining upon them, they lay there for some time, doing nothing more than holding hands and watching the clouds roll by. Forrest then pulled the picnic basket closer and they fed each other strawberries and bits of cheese. Afterward they took another swim to rinse away the sand and put their clothes back on.
Twyla couldn’t imagine a more perfect afternoon.
While Forrest shook out the blanket and folded it, Twyla dug to the bottom of the picnic basket. “What are you looking for?” he asked.
“I want to make sure there aren’t any more rubbers in here,” she explained. “I wouldn’t want the kitchen staff to find them.”
“There was only one,” he said.
“Leave it to Josie to only give us one,” she said, brushing the sand from her knees.
Forrest put the blanket in the basket and closed the lid. “Let me preface by saying I was happy to see it, because I hadn’t thought that far ahead when I left town, but does your father know Josie has rubbers?”
Twyla grinned at the way his cheeks turned faintly pink. “Of course he doesn’t. She keeps them hidden in her closet.” Stepping closer, she kissed him. “Cases of them.”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Cases?”
Twyla nodded. “I’ll get a supply from her.”
His eyes widened, and then he closed them for a minute, as if to catch a thought. “Why would Josie have cases of rubbers in her closet?”
“From her Ladies Aid Society.”
“Her what?” He looked shocked. “Those little old ladies bowling today? The ones I had to ask to move their cars so that I could leave?”
Twyla hooked her arm with his and gestured for him to pick up the basket. Once they started walking, she said, “I don’t know all the ins and outs of it, but I know that group does more than grow flowers, watch birds and throw birthday parties for eighty-year-olds.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Josie never talks about it.”
“Do they have anything to do with her arrest?”
“I believe so,” Twyla said. “But Josie said she can’t talk about it, and she won’t. She’s always been the quiet one. I think that’s why the group let her in. She is the youngest member by ten or more years. Maybe twenty. Gloria recommended she join.”
“Gloria Kasper, the doctor?”
“Yes. That’s where the rubbers come from.” Growing tired of the conversation, Twyla hugged his arm. “Have you ever flown over fireworks before?”
“Not directly over them,” he answered. “That would be dangerous. But close enough. It’s an amazing sight.”
“I can’t wait.” A dreamy sigh escaped her as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s going to be fabulous.”
“Is that enough time for you to plan a wedding?” he asked. “If not—”
“Don’t think you’re getting out of this one, Forrest Reynolds,” she said sternly. “You said the Fourth of July and I’m not letting you change your mind.”
He swung her around in front of him. “I’m not changing my mind. But I know you. You’ll want a new dress and shoes.”
“Yes, I will,” she agreed. “I’ll buy them tomorrow. The only other thing we’ll have to do is call the preacher. We can do that today. Nothing else matters.”
