Carolina Moon

something inside her to him.
    And because it was him, she could cling, she could surrender to it. She could hold on and know he’d be there with her when she fell.
    The phone was ringing. Or his ears were. Every breath he took was ripe with her. She moved with him, thrust for thrust, never stopping, never slowing. There were times when he could think about her sanely, and when he wondered why the two of them didn’t just devour each other until nothing was left.
    She was saying his name, over and over, punctuating the word with gasps and whimpers. And he saw, just before he emptied into her, her eyes close as if in prayer.
    “God.” She shuddered once, let her head rest back against the door, kept her eyes shut. “God. I feel wonderful. Like gold inside and out.” She opened her eyes, stretching lazily. “How about you?”
    He knew what she expected, so resisted burying his face in her hair, murmuring words she wouldn’t believe. Words that hadn’t mattered to her years before when he’d been foolish enough to say them. “That was a lot more appetizing than the BLT I planned for lunch.”
    It made her laugh and hook her arms around his neck in a manner that was as friendly as it was intimate. “There are still some parts of me you didn’t nibble on. So if—”
    “Wade? Wade, honey, you upstairs?”
    “Jesus.” The part of him that was still nestled cozily inside Faith shriveled. “My mother.”
    “Well, isn’t this … interesting.”
    Even as Faith snorted out a laugh, Wade was clamping his hand over her mouth. “Hush. Christ Jesus, this is all I need.”
    Eyes dancing, Faith muttered against his hand while her body shook with laughter.
    “It’s not funny.” He hissed it out, but had to struggle back a laugh of his own. He could hear his mother wandering around, cheerfully calling him in the same chirpy singsong she’d used to call him for supper when he’d been ten.
    “Just be quiet,” he whispered to Faith. “And stay here. Stay right in here and don’t make a sound.”
    He eased back slowly, eyes narrowed as Faith bit her lip and snickered.
    “Wade, honey,” she said when he reached for the door, then she squeezed her own mouth shut with her fingers when he turned to snarl at her.
    “Not a sound,” he repeated.
    “Okay, but I just thought you might want to put that away.”
    He glanced down, swore, and hurriedly stuffed himself back into his jeans and zipped. “Mama?” He shot Faith one last warning look, then stepped outside, firmly closing the door behind him. “I’m down here. I was just checking on a patient.”
    He sprinted up the steps, grateful his mother had gone up to search him out.
    “There you are, my baby. I was just going to leave you a little love note.”
    Boots Mooney was a package of contradictions. She was a tall woman, but everyone thought of her as little. She had a voice like a cartoon kitten and a will of iron. She’d been the Cotton Queen her senior year of high school and had gone on to reign as Miss Georgetown County.
    Her looks, wholesome, rosy, and candy pretty, had served her well. She preserved them religiously, not out of vanity but out of a spirit of obligation. Her husband was an important man, and she would never allow him to be seen with less than he deserved.
    Boots enjoyed pretty things. Including herself.
    She threw her arms open for Wade, as if it had been two years rather than two days since she’d seen him. When he bent toward her, she kissed both his cheeks, then quickly drew back.
    “Honey, you’re flushed. Are you feverish?”
    “No.” To his credit, he didn’t wince when she laid the back of her hand on his brow. “No, I’m fine. I was … in postop. It’s a little warm in there.”
    Distracting her was imperative, and he knew the surefire way. “Look at you.” He took her hands, spread her arms and gave her a long, approving once-over. “Don’t you look pretty today.”
    “Oh now.” She laughed, but pinked up with pleasure. “I just had my hair done, is all. You should’ve seen me before Lori got done with me. I looked like a ragpicker.”
    “Impossible.”
    “You’re just biased. I had a fistful of errands to do, and couldn’t go home until I’d seen my baby.” She gave his cheek a pat, then immediately turned toward the kitchen. “I bet you haven’t had lunch. I’m just going to fix you something.”
    “Mama, I have a patient. Miss Dottie’s Sadie.”
    “Oh dear, what’s wrong with her? Why