His spine stiffened. Something darkened in his expression when he looked at her. The small smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. “In a heartbeat. You’re more important than anything to me. And I gave up the real idea of a child a long time ago.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying. Sure, I wish things were different but they’re not.”
The disc hit the trash can with a clank. The very last hidden hope Bastian probably didn’t even realize he held faded from his eyes. He nodded. “That’s the best decision you could have made.”
“No, this one was.”
She crossed two steps and kissed him. He returned her kiss but it tasted hollow, scotch and sorrow, just actions responding to her. Looping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled under his chin. “Don’t have the vasectomy.”
Every muscle in his body snapped taut. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying yes.” The whisper barely broke the air.
He pulled back and cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
“Yes.”
Confusion furrowed his brow then his lips parted in surprise. “You’re saying yes? To my proposal? To marrying me?”
“Uh-huh.” She giggled, hysteria smoothing to calm assurance.
“But what about…if you threw the pills away and I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“I have no idea what’s going to happen. You and me, we’ll figure it out together.”
“Why are you changing your mind?”
The fear in his question squeezed her heart. He was afraid to believe her. She smoothed her hand across his chest. His heartbeat raced under her palm.
“Selling your house, moving across country, a vasectomy…You never hesitated in any of those. If you love me that much, then can I offer you any less? I didn’t want a baby without a husband, and I didn’t think I’d ever trust anyone enough to get married. I trust you. There’s no man I’d want to have a baby with…except you.”
His lips moved but no sound came. She watched the uncertainty dart across his eyes, watched him seeing all the pieces falling into place. His breath grew sharp and stuttered, his throat worked with convulsive swallows, and a fine tremble racked his entire frame.
“Oh my God.” Bastian’s eyes went wide before he grabbed her and hugged her close. “You mean it?”
“I mean it. I love you, Bastian.” Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Charlie laughed even while tears streamed down her cheeks.
Bastian tugged her closer to him. “Say it again. I need to hear it again,” he begged against her mouth.
“I love you. I want to get married. No pills, no vasectomy, just us, forever.”
“Oh, Charlie.” He breathed her name like a prayer. “I love you so damn much.”
Love exploded in her blood like a powder keg the instant he claimed her mouth. A few short, hard kisses opened the pathway to deeper, richer, more intimate strokes of tongue on tongue, lips on lips. Scotch flavored his kiss with a woodsy allure that intoxicated her. Her hand dove into his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more of the burn.
His entire frame shook with emotion. Stumbling forward, Bastian pinned her against the wall. His welcomed weight pressed against her, fitting along her body like a hand in a glove. Her skin flushed in awareness. A simmering ache settled low. The thick corn silk of his hair trickled through her fingers as his mouth slid down her jaw to her ear, murmuring sweet words of joy and love.
“I need you.”
“Yes.” Catching his lower lip in her teeth, she nipped him. “Hurry.”
He lifted and she clung, locking her legs around his hips. She deepened the kiss, twirling her tongue with his. Warmth spread as he moaned into her kiss. Awkwardly shifting and pulling, they managed to get her shirt over her head. The cotton of his T-shirt was soft but she wanted skin. She fisted the material up his back.
Bastian growled and palmed her ass. He carried her into the bedroom, lowering her to the unmade bed and crawling on top of her. His shirt hit the lamp and her bra flew somewhere behind him. The long line of his back sizzled under her hands, his chest scorching her taut nipples. Air was rationed against the taste, the need, for his mouth on hers.
She rocked her hips, cradling him, calling to him. In answer, his hips thrust. The ridge in his pants firmed and she went wet. Wicked nibbles sent crackles along her skin and she arched. One warm hand cupped her breast, his fingers worrying the tip until it ached for his mouth.
A soft sound broke from her lips. It was going to be so good.
Bastian froze.
“Shit.” He pulled his head back, hot breath misting over her face. “We need to stop.”
“Why?”
“I can’t,” he groaned, burying his forehead in the curve if her neck. “Not until after the surgery.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? This isn’t some holdout to win the bet?”
“I don’t give a shit about the bet.” His chest rose and fell with his gulping breath. Tension knotted his jaw. His fist banged on headboard. “Damn it, this isn’t fair.”
“When’d you reschedule it?”
“Next Thursday. Then there’s a recovery period and…Screw it. I’ll be all right.” He dove into her mouth, stealing her breath, rocking his erection against her.
“Oh no!” She dug her fingers into his hair and yanked him back. “Not if it might hurt you. We’ll wait.”
“I don’t want to wait. I want make love to you.”
A smile burst through her frustration. “God, I love hearing that, but no. No sex until the doctor says so.” He opened his mouth but she clamped her hand over it. “Not you, the other doctor. We’ll wait until it’s safe.”
His shoulders went slack. “Figures. I’m ready to get naked and now you’re saying no. You just like to torture me.”
“Yep.” She rose and gave him a sweet peck. “Set a wedding date, medicine man. I want to hit the Arizona airwaves a married woman.”
A wicked glimmer took root in his eye. “Oh, you’re going to love this idea.”
Chapter Fifteen
The night was sticky hot and the air-conditioning backstage only half worked. Bastian ran a finger under his collar—his white clerical collar. WTXT’s Summer Kickoff was nearing a close and he was backstage dressed like a priest. Charlie was floating around somewhere dressed in a micro-mini black naughty nun’s habit. Well, he mused, at least under the long cassock, he had pants on.
Charlie slipped her arms around his waist from behind. “Ready for this, Father O’Chastity?”
“You betcha, Sister Milk-n-Honey. Where’s Boo?”
“Chill out, Sebastian.”
Bastian turned and threw his head back with a laugh.
“What?” Caz feigned annoyance and straightened Bastian’s white coat over his pale green scrubs. He straightened the stethoscope around his neck then patted his Dr. Feelgood name tag. “I make a better-looking doctor than you do.”
“I can’t believe you cut your hair.”
With Caz’s tattoos covered by the coat and his hair cut short, the similarities between them were almost shocking. His brother ran a hand over the now-short blond shag and shrugged. “It fit the costume. I wanted a change anyway. Besides, it’ll grow. I kinda like this look. I might offer free breast exams after the party and see what pops up.”
“As if you could handle a real woman.” Eddy sidled up and looped her arm through his. Her short, tight nurse’s costume showed way more cleavage than Bastian preferred to see from his almost-mother-in-law so he looked out to the stage. The morning crew was taking their final bow. He grabbed Charlie’s hand.
“Come on, Honey, showtime.”
The bright lights nearly blinded him but he slipped into his final performance as Dr. Hot/Father O’Chastity with ease and smiled at the audience. In the shadows beyond the stage area, he spotted Devin, in football pads, with cheerleader Melanie at his side. The teen waved back with a wide smile. He caught another set of eyes a few tables away and winked when a sparkly fairy wand waved back.
Charlie cocked her hip in a so-not-religious way and earned several catcalls. Bastian had to wait until the crowd calmed down before speaking into the microphone.
“Excuse me, Sister. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me over here behind this podium?”
Charlie batted her lashes at him and licked her painted lips. “Now, Father, I offered to help you behind your cassock and you called me a Jezebel.”
Bastian forced a stern expression onto his face. “Sins of the flesh will be your downfall.”
With an exaggerated innocent expression on her face, Charlie folded her hands in prayer-fashion. “But Father, I only want to go down on—I mean,
with
—you.”
Bastian mock-scolded, “You are a bad, bad girl.”
“Really? The bishop said I was the best he’d ever had.”
The audience roared and applause rang out while Charlie blew kisses to the crowd, tossing her short wimple over her shoulder. She delighted them with her naughtiness.
He chuckled and directed his words to the audience. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? If my teachers at Saint Andrew’s had looked like that, I wouldn’t have minded being spanked.”
She looked at the crowd, pursed her lips then strolled over and thwapped him on the butt, earning another burst of laughter.
“Okay, that’s enough parochial punishment, Sister Milk-n-Honey.”
Properly chastised, Charlie hung her head. He knew as soon as his back was turned she would do something outrageous. He faced the mike and felt her hand slide along his ass. She gave a firm squeeze. Bastian blinked. That bit wasn’t for the audience and he floundered for a moment.
“Uh, everyone at WTXT would like to thank you for coming out and donating to the Autism Foundation. As we’ve highlighted tonight, this disorder is widely varied and touches over a million children in this country alone. Children with this disorder learn differently, process things around them in their own ways and are often lost in their own worlds. They can teach us if we listen, and we can reach them if we try. We all—doctors, educators, parents and the general society—must reach out in the hope that one day they’ll be able to interact on a meaningful level for everyone.”
He supposed he should be full of nerves but too much happiness coursed through him. There wasn’t room for anything else. He unfolded a small paper that had been tucked in his pseudo-Bible.
“According to the last figures we have, tonight you have raised almost eighteen thousand dollars for the Autism Foundation.”
When the applause quieted, he looked back at Charlie. Beneath the black-and-white headdress, her blue eyes were wide with excitement. He held his hand out and Charlie took both it and his place at the podium. Her grip was tight but her face was relaxed and her voice was smooth.
“A few weeks ago, during the three-hundred-and-eighty-third show of
Let’s Talk about Sex,
Doc proposed to me on the air. I, of course, refused and propositioned him instead. The Race for Wed or Bed has been a thrilling, entertaining and enlightening journey. I learned a lot about myself and my co-host. He really is my best friend. He taught me that love doesn’t depend on the body but on the heart. He showed me that innocence is just as powerful as passion. He proved to me that forever isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”
The look she sent him warmed his soul with more intensity than the footlights. He gave her back the best smile he could before she turned to the audience.
“That discovery is one I wish everyone could have. Being loved, no matter what, is a gift. It’s a precious feeling knowing you can count on someone to catch you if you stumble. It’s even more rewarding to be the person who catches someone before they fall. Children with autism need someone to reach out to them and to always be there.”
In a sudden burst of nerves he was sure no one else saw, Charlie blew out a fast breath and steeled her shoulders.
“So who won our race? We’ve never said. That’s because neither of us did and yet we both have. The score was tied thirty-two to thirty-two at our last show, but we promised to go out with a bang. Tonight is the bang, the tie-breaker. We’re arrogant enough to think that this will open your hearts and your checkbooks to push us past that twenty-thousand-dollar mark. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Honorable Walter Shuman, District Nine Circuit Court Judge.”
Bastian started the applause and the crowd joined in as a pudgy gray-haired man in a Lucifer costume joined them on stage. He hefted his pitchfork and bowed. Caz and Eddy slipped in behind him, standing on the stage behind Bastian. Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes.
Charlie looked up into the sound booth and nodded. There was a click and a buzz as Justine transferred the audio from the podium mike to the overhead system. She blew them a kiss from above and then sent a thumbs-up. Charlie stepped beside Bastian, lacing her fingers with his.
Judge Shuman took the book Bastian had left on the podium, cracked it open and cleared his throat.
“Through the airwaves on
Let’s Talk about Sex,
Dr. Hot and the Honeypot have shared their courtship with us all. We’ve cheered them, laughed with them and learned from them. I welcome you tonight to join in once last time and stand as witness to the marriage of Dr. Sebastian William Talbot and Miss Charlie Ann Pierce.”
A collective gasp exploded from the seats and a loud twittering rose high into the balconies but the judge never paused. Soon everyone quieted to listen if this surprise wedding was real.
It was very real.
No costumes, stage lighting or hundreds of unsuspecting guests could diminish the impact this moment had. Bastian’s knees quaked and his stomach shimmied but this was the moment he’d dreamed of coming true. His face ached with the spread of his smile.
He barely noticed Eddy tucking his ring into Charlie’s hand or pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Her fingers trembled sliding the wedding band on him but she never stumbled with her vows. Bastian repeated his vows slowly and clearly, never dropping his gaze from Charlie’s. He slid the gold ring home and looked up. Charlie had tears in her eyes, tears of joy.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She answered with something he’d never get tired of hearing. “I love you, too.”
“And now, for as much as you have made your vows, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving your rings, I pronounce that you are husband and wife. Sebastian, you may kiss your bride.”