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  He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere, and I slipped my panties off, putting my feet up on his shoulders, opening myself up to him, grateful for the semi-darkness to hide the shamelessness of my lust. He explored through the soft folds of flesh, his tongue never leaving that sweetly sensitive spot as he eased two fingers into me, making me squirm and gasp.

  My belly was pulled taut, something curled there, waiting for release as he licked my flesh toward some slippery edge. His fingers worked in and out, twisting and plunging into me, the sound of it, the rhythmic wet squelch, making me flush with pleasure and embarrassment. I felt as if he had exposed an appetite in me for something wild and urgent, a hunger I couldn’t control.

  “Oh no, oh my God,” I moaned, and that just made him lick me faster, his tongue flashing over my clit so rapidly I thought I would die or explode, and that’s just what I finally did. It was every Fourth of July picnic finale all rolled into one, and I shuddered all over like I couldn’t stop it, my body rippling with waves of pleasure, sparks of sensation raining down like fire and spreading through my limbs.

  I didn’t make a sound, biting my lip so long I thought I tasted blood, and realizing too late that I was pulling Billy Ray’s hair hard in my fists. He didn’t seem to mind, moving on top of my still quivering body and nuzzling his wet face against my neck. I could feel his hardness against my thigh and knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t possibly say no, not after that.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kissed his shoulder, grabbing his arms as he held himself above me. There was a delicious rub and slippery exploration as he slid the head of his cock up and down, seeking the pink cleft where my flesh gave and angling his hips slightly when he found it, poised above me and waiting. I tried to show him with my body, wiggling, lifting my pelvis, wanting the weight of him, but he held himself aloft, his eyes searching my face in the moonlight.

  “I love you, Rosie,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss me as he pressed slowly forward with his hips, and I didn’t know what took my breath more, his words or the feel of his hard, insistent flesh parting mine, easing me open with a stretch and burn that made me gasp and dig my nails into his arms.

  “Billy Ray,” I panted, shaking my head, gripping his hips with my thighs so tight they were trembling the both of us. He kissed me, tender, easy kisses feathered over my lips that he punctuated with soft whispers that I couldn’t quite understand, but my body recognized them and slowly relaxed.

  When he started to pull out, I grabbed at him, panicked, not wanting him to leave me, and his slow press forward again was a relief. I squeezed myself around him, everything about me taut and quivering beneath him. He was gentle, rocking me on a soft cloud in the silver light of the moon, whispering my name and filling me with more than his flesh—he told me how much he wanted me, how beautiful I was, how good I felt, and I lost myself in his words and the aching sensation between my legs.

  “Touch yourself,” he whispered, taking my hand and guiding it down between us.

  The supple wetness where we met was a fleshy pulse that seemed to deepen and expand with every movement we made together. My fingers found that little swollen bud, rubbing it as he moved on me, in me, still careful not to put his full weight onto me. The sensation in my belly grew, stretching even tighter and I moaned, squirming under him.

  “Does it feel good?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear, closer now, his hips making hard circles into me.

  “Oh, yes,” I gasped, my hand working fast between my legs. “You feel so good…”

  He made a small sound in his throat, slowing, pressing deep and staying there for a moment. I could feel the thick pulse of him in me, stretched wider than I imagined I could possibly stand. Wanting him, I clamped myself around him and he groaned, shaking his head.

  “Ahhhh God,” he cried, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “I can’t do this much longer…”

  I misunderstood him, saying, “I can,” and nudging him over with my hip, so I was sitting up on him. He gasped when I started rocking, making those same circles with my hips, with my fingers against my clit, lost in the rising sensation.

  “Oh hell,” he whispered, his hands cupping my breasts, squeezing my nipples and sending waves of pleasure through my body. “Rosie, stop… Oh God…”

  “I can’t stop.” I felt that tension in my belly reaching some sort of impossible height, a shocking summit, and I wanted to see what was on the other side. My fingers worked hard as I panted on him, against him, leaning forward as I crested that peak and pushed myself over, my whole body shuddering with the effort.

  He grabbed my hips and shoved into me hard, growling and gasping, and I knew he had reached that point, too, his body taut and arching as he thrust it against mine. He was swelling inside of me, surging with the hot fluid erupting deep into my flesh as I collapsed onto him, kissing his cheek, his neck, holding him tight. I didn’t ever want to let go.

  I whimpered when I felt him softening, slipping out of me, but he tucked me next to him, resting his chin on the top of my head as he pulled me close. The breeze felt cool against our damp skin, and although I could see his belly and chest, the rise and fall of his breath, his face was in shadow. His breathing was slowing, becoming deeper and more even.

  “Billy Ray?” My fingers played in the dark curls over his ear.

  “Hmm?” He sounded tired, or far away, and it made me sad, like he was already gone.

  “I love you too.” I wanted to pull him back. My words did, for a moment, his arm squeezing tight around my shoulders, his lips brushing my hair.

  Downstairs, I heard the lamb bleating again, softly looking for comfort and finding it against a warm body in the ensuing silence. I found it, too, in Billy Ray’s arms, our silence stretching long. There weren’t words for what we were feeling, or for what we wanted and couldn’t have. It was a long time before either of us spoke.

  “Will you really wait for me, girl?” he whispered into my hair.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice at first, swallowing around something caught in my throat. “Yes. I promise.”

  We found heaven that night in each other’s arms, and neither of us wanted to let it go. He stayed almost until dawn before slipping down the ladder. I knew he wasn’t just heading home—he was off to fight in a war halfway around the world. I promised him once again as I let him kiss me for the last time, and then I shivered barefoot in grass full of morning dew.

  * * *

  It was little William who saw him first, pointing at the truck coming up the driveway. That boy loved anything that moved—birds, tractors, trucks—they all fascinated him. I was shucking peas on the porch next to Mama, and Daddy was working under the hood of the old Scout while William drew with a screwdriver in the dirt. Then he started calling, “Peecher! Peecher!”

  Mama shaded her eyes to look, but I didn’t stop. “Preacher’s here—gonna have to shuck s’more.”

  I looked up when the truck’s door opened, and that’s when I saw the tall young man with dark eyes swing out of the cab. I knew, even as much as he’d changed, I just knew. I stood, then, my hand at my throat, the shucked peas I had pooled in the well of my skirt spilling onto the wooden slats of the porch.

  “Good Lord, child,” Mama cried. “What a mess. You—”

  She must’ve seen him, too, standing there next to the truck, just standing and looking at the house, at us, because she stopped talking and I heard her gasp. I couldn’t say anything—I didn’t have any breath—but I was moving anyway, squashing peas under my bare feet as I ran across the porch and down the steps. He was like hitting a brick wall, solid and steady, and he pulled me into his arms like a bit of fluff and kissed me so hard I knew he was bruising my mouth but I didn’t care.

  “Billy Ray,” I whispered into his chest, willing my tears not to fall, but they came anyway, little rivers down my cheeks. “Five years since you disappeared. Where…? How…? The letters stopped after only a few months… We thought—”<
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  I could see Preacher Harris and Lottie, who was in my seventh grade English class and practically a grown-up girl of twelve now, getting out of the truck too.

  “You could have called me,” I said to preacher as I wiped my eyes.

  “He just showed up on my doorstep today.” Preacher Harris held his hat in his hands. He was older and grayer, his eyes a lot more sad. “He wanted to come over here first thing.”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Billy Ray frowned, glancing over his shoulder at his father.

  “I’m sorry.” Preacher Harris squeezed his son’s shoulder briefly, giving him a nod. “We’re glad you’re here, son.”

  “Hey, you leave my mama alone.” William’s little fists were raised, and he was glaring up at this stranger with fierce, dark eyes.

  Billy Ray’s eyes met mine, then he glanced down at the boy. He squatted next to the truck with a smile, his gaze moving over William’s dark, curly hair, just like his before they shaved it all off, like the one picture I had of him in uniform stuck in the mirror of my dresser upstairs.

  “Hey there, fella.” Billy Ray looked at the screwdriver William was still holding in his hand. “That’s quite a weapon there. You’re a good boy to protect your mama.”

  William’s jaw relaxed a little. “I’m helping Grandpa fix our truck.”

  “I bet you’re good at fixin’ things.” Billy Ray reached out to touch the boy’s curls.

  “I’m good at everything.” William glanced up at me and decided I wasn’t in danger. “I’m William. What’s your name?”

  “Billy Ray.”

  “That’s my daddy’s name.” William cocked his head with a frown. “But he’s dead. Mama said he was killed in the bad war.”

  And then he was running off to tell his grandpa about the new stranger come to visit, and Billy Ray stood and studied me, his eyes questioning.

  “He’s your—” I started.

  “So I hear,” Billy Ray interrupted, peering over at William, a mixture of shock and I hoped a little joy on his face.

  “You disappeared…” I shook my head in disbelief. “I never got a chance to tell you. They said…missing in action…”

  He gazed out across the field and I wondered if he was remembering back to that day, too, years ago, when we walked together across the grass the last time. He appeared older now, harder somehow, and his jaw tightened as I watched him trying to tell me, searching for the words. They didn’t come.

  “I’m here now, girl.” He pulled me close and squeezed, hard.

  “I waited.” My heart soared as I held myself against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart in his warm, broad chest.

  “I didn’t know if you would.” He kissed the top of my head. “I hoped…maybe too much. You were all I thought about…”

  “I promised.” I blinked up at him. His eyes were questioning, but I smiled. “Besides, there’s no other man like you, Billy Ray. Not for me.”

  “Well…” He breathed a sigh, putting his arm around me as we started toward the house, where Daddy had joined Mama on the porch and they had William between them, all of them watching us. “Maybe some day I’ll tell you…what happened…over there…” His jaw tightened again as he spoke, his eyes growing dark and distant. “But I came back. And you just made it all worth it.”

  Billy Ray shook Daddy’s hand and Mama hugged him tight, and William decided he was all right and jumped into his lap the minute he sat on the porch swing. Preacher stepped up onto the porch but Lottie stayed down on the steps to pet old Harley. “I wish your mama could be here to see you.” Billy Ray’s mama had died two years ago, but there’d been no way to tell him.

  Billy Ray nodded. “Me too.”

  “She would have been proud.” Preacher’s words surprised me. Her views on her son enlisting had been very clear, even extending to her grandson, whom she had refused ever to see or acknowledge. It was Preacher who had come to the hospital to hold the newborn, who had baptized him and taken him fishing.

  “Do you think so?” Billy Ray shook his head slightly, staring off into the distance.

  “I know I’m proud of you.” Preacher blinked back tears, clearing his throat. I looked at Billy Ray, but couldn’t gauge his reaction.

  “We all are, son,” my daddy said, squeezing Billy Ray’s shoulder.

  “Well, I guess I’d better fry some more chicken.” Mama was wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. “You’re staying for supper, of course?”

  Preacher nodded. “Of course.”

  I think we were all remembering back to the day before Billy Ray went to enlist. I know I was. I stared at him like he was a ghost come back to life.

  “I think the peas are done for.” Mama sighed, surveying the mess I had made in my hurry to get to Billy Ray. “Rosie, will you go out and pick some corn?”

  I smiled over at Billy Ray. “Sure, Mama.” I held my hand out to him. “Want to come help?” William protested, but Mama and Lottie distracted him as Billy Ray took my hand and we walked out toward the cornfield.

  “This doesn’t feel real.” Billy Ray squeezed my hand and we stopped in almost the same spot that we had years ago. “I thought the hell I was in must be a dream…that you were all that was real. Now I’m wondering if maybe I’m still there and just dreaming all this.”

  “You’re here, Billy Ray.” I blinked back tears as I met his eyes. He was the same and different all at once. I was too. So much had changed since he’d gone and that realization ached between us. I wanted to bridge that gap somehow, and I put my arms around him, lifting my face up to be kissed.

  “I don’t know if I can come back.” He brushed his fingers over my mouth instead of his lips, rubbing his thumb against my jaw.

  “You are back.” I pressed my lips to his, slipping my hand behind his head and slanting my mouth across his. For a moment, there was nothing. He let me kiss him, but his hands stayed chastely at my waist, his tongue politely admitting the intrusion of mine. I took his hand and pulled it up under my skirt, shoving my panties aside so he could feel me. His mouth trembled under mine, then, and his fingers moved, parting my flesh, probing inside.

  “Feel,” I whispered, spreading for him. “I promise you, I’m real…”

  “Oh, Rosie…” He moaned when my hand found him through his jeans, rubbing there. “Oh God… I can’t…”

  “Yes, you can.” I kissed him deeply, rocking against his hand. It had been so long…so long. With a deep growl, he snatched me down onto the grass and we rolled back and forth, unable to get enough of each other all of a sudden. It was like a dam breaking, a hot flood, as we fumbled with each other’s clothing and our own. The hesitation of our youth was gone, and the years between us melted as our bodies rocked together, knowing already what our minds were trying to catch up to.

  This was no slow, easy coupling. We were desperate to find each other again, our hunger far surpassing our inhibitions. Billy Ray rolled me onto my back, pushing my dress up to my waist and yanking my panties down. I worked his jeans down his hips far enough so I could grasp him in my hand, to guide and aim him. He let me stroke it there against my wetness for a moment as he kissed me until his need grew too great.

  The moment that his hips pressed forward, his thick length parting my flesh and sinking slowly into me, I knew that he was home—really home. And I sobbed with the realization. But he didn’t stop, thrusting deeper into me as he kissed my tears. Wrapping myself around him, arms and legs both, I held on as he slipped in and out of my swollen slit. My nails dug into his back as I arched, squirming beneath him, wanting more.

  “Billy Ray,” I whispered, meeting his hips with mine. “Harder… God, please.”

  He groaned, kneeling up between my thighs and grasping my knees, pressing them far back as he slammed into me. I moaned, reaching down and rubbing myself, my fingers making fast circles as the delicious friction built up between us. My gaze met his and I saw the feeling he had held for me, tucked awa
y in some small part of him, waiting there until he could let it go. It had broken through, too, flooding his face, shining in his eyes.

  “I can’t stop it—” He groaned, breathless, grabbing my hips and driving in deep. “Oh, Rosie, God, I love you…” I pulled him to me, letting him take us both over that shuddering peak as we rocked together on the grass. He flooded me again, spilling waves of heat between my thighs as I quivered beneath him. My mind still hadn’t caught up, but my body knew. It beat like a pulse between my legs, he’s home, he’s home, he’s home!

  I sobbed, kissing his ear, his cheek, never wanting to let him go again. “I love you too, Billy Ray…”

  “I’m really home,” he breathed, searching my eyes. “And you’re really real.” I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. He brushed the hair out of my face, surprising me when he said, “I hope we made another baby.”