Page 77 of I Do, I Do, I Do
Instead of immediately struggling up, Clara placed her hands on his chest and gazed past the ash and grease and into his eyes. “Bear Barrett, are you ever going to kiss me?” She knew the shouts and cheers of the spectators drowned her question for any ears but his.
He stared at her mouth, his arm still loosely around her waist. “Oh, yes. I have plans for you, little lady,” he said in a gruff tone. “We need some privacy, and I’ve figured it out.”
Privacy was the cause of his delay? Clara rolled her eyes and decided that men could drive a woman crazy. The extended hours of darkness offered privacy to anyone seeking it. Every evening, Tom and Zoe and Ben and Juliette faded into the dark to steal some kisses. Clara wanted some stolen kisses, too.
Bear must have read something of her thoughts on her expression. “No, ma’am,” he said, lying next to her on the ground, the warm vapor of his breath bathing her face, “I’m not going to sneak a quick kiss out behind your tent. The first kiss should be special. When I plant one on you, woman, I want you to remember it all the rest of your born days.” He grinned. “I want us both looking good and smelling good. I want you gussied up in that outfit you wore to the arm-wrestling tournament. When I grab you, I want to feel woman, not just a bundle of coats and scarves and sweaters and whatever else you’re wearing to stay warm.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes, not thinking about their scandalous position, lying on the snow without three inches separating them. Couples sprawled on the ground, laughing, from here to the finish line. It was only when Ben and Juliette came hopping past shouting, “We won!” that Clara regained her senses and sat up.
“It would be nice to know your plan and where you intend to find the privacy you have in mind.” Leaning forward, Clara pulled open the sack and untied the twine binding their legs.
He blinked. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Exasperation overwhelmed her. She smacked him on the chest, knocking him back on the snow. “No.”
He grinned up at the sky. “I’ve thought about this so much I figured I must have told you.”
“Well, tell me now, then I’ll decide if I like your plan.”
He sat up. “I don’t remember if I mentioned it, but I own a cabin at Lake Bennett. My plan is to invite you to a private rematch at the cabin.”
“And I’m supposed to show up looking good and smelling good,” she said with a smile, pulling her leg out of the sack.
“I’m looking forward to that part. Then we arm-wrestle. I win. And afterward we have dinner.”
“You win?” She narrowed her eyes.
“I know where I can get a chicken. It’ll cost seventy-five dollars, but what the hell. I’ll pay someone to fry it so we don’t have to cook. Dinner will be ready whenever we want it.”
“I can fry it.”
“If you invite me to dinner, then you can cook,” he said, kicking the burlap off his leg. “When I invite you, I’ll make the arrangements. We’ll have your favorite German ale, by the way, in case you need additional enticement.”
She laughed. “I was wavering. But I can’t resist the ale. Since this is a detailed plan, what happens after dinner?” She couldn’t help thinking how Juliette’s dinner evening had ended.
“We sit by the fire and talk about everything and nothing, then right before I escort you back to your tent, I take you in my arms—”
Clara stared into his brown-bear eyes and held her breath.
“—and I pull you so close you can hardly breathe.” She wasn’t breathing now.
“I tell you that you’re the prettiest little thing I ever saw—”
“Little.” Clara fell back on the snow and smiled at the sky.
“And then I kiss you until your knees buckle.”
“Oh, Lord. I do like this plan.”
She liked it so well that later in the day she cornered Tom and demanded to know when he intended to depart for Lake Bennett.
“As I just explained to Bear,” he said with a smile of amusement, “we’ll leave tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you what I told him. We travel at the pace of the slowest person in the party. And no, you can’t go on ahead of everyone. I’m responsible for you, so you stay with the group.”
Sighing with frustration, she went in search of Juliette and found her packing in preparation for tomorrow’s departure.
“How are you feeling?” Clara asked, sitting on her cot and studying Juliette. Juliette was still pink-faced and excited from winning the sack race.
“I feel fine. Why?”
