They said nothing to each other, but their bodies spoke volumes. As he swayed and dipped her luscious body, he told her how much he had missed her. As she followed his lead, adding some moves of her own, Charmaine told him that she’d missed him, too. Lots.
By the time the song ended, Raoul realized that his hands had moved of their own volition and were caressing her back and shoulders and waist and hips. And Charmaine wasn’t a sweet innocent in this dance-lovemaking. Subtly she rubbed her breasts against his denim shirt and undulated her hips against his burgeoning erection. He doubted she even realized what she was doing. She was as lost as he was in this prelude to love-making.
René and his happy musicmakers moved without pause from one slow ballad to another, in this case “Jolé Blon.” Halfway through the song, Raoul drew his head back so he could look down at Charmaine. Her closed eyes drifted open as she gazed up at him in question.
He kissed her then, in front of everyone. He couldn’t help himself. It was a deep kiss but gentle, nothing that would embarrass him or Charmaine in front of all her relatives. She tasted of watermelon and lipstick and Charmaine. A potent combination. They continued to sway from side to side in a pretense of dancing as they kissed, and, yes, Charmaine was kissing him back. Thank you, God!
This time, it was Charmaine who pulled back. “Rusty?” she questioned. “What is this about? From one minute to the next, you keep changing your tune. You want me here, you want me gone. You say you care about me, then you treat my opinions like bimbo drivel. You act as if you want to make love with me, but you keep pushing me away. Then you top it all off by saying that you are thankful for me. Me!”
“Let’s get one thing straight. There has never been a time when I haven’t wanted to make love with you.”
“Sex,” she said sadly, though not really in a condemning way.
“More than that, honey. Way more than that.”
“How about the papers you…” She stopped herself.
“What papers?”
“Never mind,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “That is one subject I do not want to discuss tonight.” She inhaled and exhaled several times as if to gather courage. “Time to put up or shut up, cowboy.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go,” she said, stopping in the midst of their dancing. People continued to dip and sway around them.
“Huh?” he said again. This was a shocker. “Let’s go” was supposed to be his line. He was the one who had planned to seduce Charmaine tonight, to abduct her if necessary. “Go where? Oh, you can’t think I’m going into the house and make love with you… with all these people out here? That would be worse than your mother and Dirk in the wicked Winnebago.”
She shook her head. “No. Someplace else.”
He was about to question her more, but stopped himself. “We need to talk about this.” This put a whole new twist on his big plan. Should he insist on going through with his original plan, or fall in with hers? Assuming she had a plan and wasn’t just pulling his chain.
“We definitely do not need to talk anymore. Talk is what gets us in trouble… me, anyway.” She took his hand and tugged.
He, dumb slob that he was, dug in his heels.
The expression on her face wavered between “I want him bad” to “This is a bad idea” to “Make up your mind, big boy.”
His hesitation caused her to call him a foul name that surprised him, even coming from Charmaine. But then, she did the most surprising thing of all.
She pulled out her small pistol from a pocket in her skirt and aimed it straight at his wildly beating heart.
“You’re coming with me,” she informed him. “No more games. No more hesitating.”
“But—”
“No buts either.”
He hadn’t been about to argue with her. He’d been going to tell her that force was not necessary with him… that he was more than willing. “Put the gun down, baby. Is it loaded?” At the narrowing of her eyes, he suspected that it was. Damn, she is acting crazier than usual. “Put the pistol down. I’ll come with you.”