April 29th
"Another peach margarita for the lady, and I'll have a draft beer." Gene glanced at Sarah, brows raised as she stole a pretzel from the bowl beside him. "Okay?"
"Cool. These things are making me thirsty," she said, and tipped her black Stetson back to give him a dazzling smile. "Play me another song on the jukebox, soldier?"
"Whatcha wanna hear, little girl?"
"Your choice," Sarah leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft against his. "Gimme three of your best."
Gene put his hand on her thigh. "Right here in the bar?"
Sarah laughed. In the neon light he could still see her curls had lightened, the auburn brightened with copper and blonde streaks. They complemented her gilded skin, her tan carefully acquired through the use of morning and afternoon sunlight hours and a goodly amount of sunblock. Usually she preferred long sleeved shirts to hide the scars on her back and arm, but since they'd arrived in Key West she'd worn the occasional tank top. He was glad to see the change in her; he didn't even see her scars anymore unless someone commented on them, but he knew she was often self-conscious about how people judged her on her appearance.
But none of that mattered right now. In her black sleeveless blouse and jeans she looked good enough to eat. With two margaritas in her and more on the way, there was a fair chance he'd get to do just that later on, with her enthusiastic cooperation. Even better, she was happy and carefree for the first time in months, and he wanted her to stay that way for as long as possible.
Gene stood and went to the jukebox, fed in a buck and selected Asleep At the Wheel. He knew a good tune would get her out on the floor, and sure enough, she swung a two-step with him not thirty seconds later. He sent her away over the floor and laughed when she spun in a perfect circle and came back to him, her features bright with happiness.
They drank and danced for another couple of hours, pleasantly buzzed but still functional, to walk back to their room at Big Ruby's. It was a warm night, with stars overhead and the smell of salt water in the soft breeze.
"Oh, I could really get used to this," Sarah said. "We should come here for a couple of weeks every winter."
"I think that could be arranged." Gene laughed when Sarah hugged him. He stopped, turned her toward him, took off her hat and kissed her long and slow. He enjoyed the feel of her slender arms around his waist to bring him close. Someone honked a car horn and yelled encouragement. Gene waved Sarah's hat in salute and made her laugh. She tasted of sweet fruit and lime with a little hint of salt, and he couldn't get enough of her.
"C'mon, we'll get arrested for indecent exposure if we stay out here much longer," Sarah said when the kiss ended. She slid her hands over the curve of his ass to cop a feel. Gene smiled down at her.
"I ain't the one holdin' us up," he teased. Sarah raised her brows and gave him a gentle pinch.
"I don't see you going anywhere," she said, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
"This isn't helping," he said when he could speak. Sarah laughed. She linked her arm in his and settled in at his side.
"Lead on," she gestured with the Stetson. Gene leaned in to steal another kiss, then started forward. They strolled the walk, and he savored every moment of her at his side. She sparkled like the fizz in a bottle of champagne.
When they reached their room they made good use of the big comfortable bed. They took their time with each other, a slow, tender exploration that brought them the pleasure they both knew so well. But it was infused with echoes of the music they'd danced to earlier in the evening, so there was laughter along with a fair amount of slap and tickle, as the two of them rolled in the soft cotton sheets while the springs squeaked.
"We'll wake up everyone in the place," Sarah said at some point. Gene pushed a little deeper. she gasped softly and clutched at his shoulders. He waggled his brows and leered down at her.
"You make that sound like a bad thing."
"Pirate," she accused, and wrapped her legs around him. "Have your wicked ol' way with me, Jolly Roger."
"Arrrr," he growled at her ear, and did just that as she giggled and lifted her hips to allow him better access. When they finally fell asleep it was with little kisses and nips and whispers, something they hadn't done since the early days of their marriage.
[H]
Sarah woke first for once, and had the chance to watch her husband asleep in the first light of morning. Against the white sheets he was dark, his tanned skin and black hair giving him the look of a mercenary—the pirate she'd called him earlier that morning. But she also knew the tender heart of him, the gentleness he owned as thoroughly as his strength. He had his scars too, the kind no one saw except her, and he sometimes failed when he struggled to deal with his pain and hers too. Yet he never gave up trying, and he never shied away from the responsibility. Her heart swelled as she watched him, his face vulnerable and peaceful in sleep.
She didn't believe in fate or destiny, though her Celtic blood often urged the superstition on her. Love was the result of a complex series of incidents, perceptions and emotional tides. There were a number of compatible people for each person in the world. Still, she was glad she and Gene had found each other. When he was with her she was herself, but more so, and better; she knew he felt the same way about her. He was the best friend she'd ever had, and she looked forward to every day with him, good, bad or plain old ordinary.
A cascade of memories filled her mind's eye as she watched him: the two of them in the church as they placed the rings on each other's fingers, recited the vows; the pain in his eyes when she told him she couldn't have children, only to find it was pain for her loss even more than his; his pride in her acceptance at Mayfield; their first Christmas as a married couple, when they drank champagne as they opened presents; riding horses together on a visit to Texas; the feel of his long, lean body in her arms as he wept over the decision to give up field work; the flash of his brilliant smile as he danced with her. She couldn't think of a life without him.
"I can feel you staring at me," Gene said in a morning-voice rumble that made her toes curl. Sarah rolled forward a little and kissed him.
"Just admiring my handsome husband," she said with complete honesty. One eye opened and regarded her with sleepy suspicion.
"Not too picky, are ya," he said. Sarah grinned.
"Oh, I don't know . . ." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I think I got a good deal, all things considered." She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and gave a little squeak of surprise when he pinned her beneath him. This time the kiss was a scorcher. She felt him hard and ready to go, pressed against her thigh; she opened to him without hesitation. They moved together as her hands slid over his back, cupped his cheeks as he took both of them to the edge and toppled them over into pleasure, his groan as sweet as music.
"Let's get married," he said as they lay together afterwards in each other's arms. Sarah turned her head a little to look at him.
"Uh . . . yeah," she said dryly, and he laughed.
"I mean renew the vows. But not in a church. We've done that already. Let's do it in the bar."
Sarah blinked. "The bar?" She liked the idea. She liked it a lot. "So who's gonna marry us?"
"We'll find someone. First things first. Breakfast, then you need a dress." Gene grinned at her. "Sound like a plan?"
They had fresh mangoes, croissants and mimosas in bed and took their time, watched the news and discussed the day's itinerary. As the morning grew older they took a shower together and enjoyed the soothing pulse of hot water. Sarah laughed when Gene got soap in his eyes; he exacted revenge as he held her against him while he brought her to the brink of orgasm with his fingers. He chuckled as she squirmed and gasped and finally surrendered. She shuddered as he gave her sweet little aftershocks, his lean body her support.
It was a leisurely shopping trip. They wandered the streets hand in hand and enjoyed the bright day. Gene bought a vintage porkpie hat, a dark blue gauze shirt and black jeans; Sarah found a pale sage green print dress with a broomstick skirt. New flip-flops for both of them completed their finery, and then they headed for the bar they'd frequented since their arrival in Key West.
"You want me to marry you?" Ben scratched his head and tossed his cleaning rag toward the sink. "I ain't no preacher." He folded his arms and gave them a hard stare.
Gene held up his hand and Sarah's. Their rings glinted in the morning sunlight. "Already did the deed a while back."
"What you need me for then?"
"We're renewin' our vows," Gene said. "We like your place so we hope you'll let us do it here." He reached into his front shirt pocket and put five crisp hundred dollar bills on the bar with a smile. "First round's on us."
Ben tilted his head and looked them over. "You been here every night for the last week. I guess you good enough customers." He gave them a sudden grin. A diamond winked from his left front tooth. "Show up at eight and don't be late."
They did just that strolling through the door dressed in their new clothes to find the place packed with regulars and tourists alike. There were multi-colored streamers everywhere, and red heart-shaped helium balloons. As they came up Ben ambled over, resplendent in a truly hideous Hawaiian shirt and shorts, a relatively clean bar towel thrown over his shoulder.
"Ya ready?" he asked. Sarah glanced at Gene. His green eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Now or never," she said, and took his hand as she smiled. He nodded and turned back to Ben.
"Let's roll," he said in his best jarhead manner, and Sarah laughed.
"All right then. Ever'body shut up!" Ben yelled, and the noise level fell a few notches. "Now these two knuckleheads say they love each other and wanna stay hitched. How the rest of ya feel about it?"
Cheers and applause, a few boos went up around them. Sarah squeezed Gene's hand, and he returned the gesture. Ben nodded.
"Okay by me too," he said with a huge grin. "By the power nobody ain't never 'vested in me ever, I say you stay married to each other so you don't make two other people crazy." Above the laughter he shouted "First drink's on the happy couple, first dance is on me!"
They took the floor and quasi-Charlestoned to the Squirrel Nut Zippers amid a sea of well wishes and congratulations. Sarah watched Gene's face, warmed by the steady joy she saw there as they moved together. "I love you," she shouted, and his eyes brightened with happiness.
"I love you back," he yelled, and pulled her in for a kiss, to the enthusiastic approval of the crowd.
There was wedding cake—well, sort of; several enormous platters of swiss rolls, twinkies and devil dogs were produced, along with peanuts and pretzels. Sarah shared a cupcake with Gene, and bought another round of drinks for the attendees. When people tapped their mugs or glasses she and Gene kissed to universal acclaim. Occasionally they got up to dance on the crowded floor, surrounded by bodies and music and pure, simple delight.
"I feel more married now than the first time," Sarah said later as they walked to their hotel. She had a helium heart balloon tied to her left wrist and held Gene's hand in hers.
"Me too." He leaned in and kissed her. He tasted of rum. "Let's renew our vows here every year."
"Oh, I like the sound of that." Sarah slipped an arm around Gene's waist and moved in closer. "Can we go to the beach one more time tomorrow before we leave?"
"You got it." Gene paused in front of the hotel door. "Been a pleasure spending all this time with you, ma'am," he said softly, and drew her in for a kiss. "Wanna come in and fool around?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Sarah said. "Just be gentle with me, mister."
"Got thirty-three flavors, guaranteed to satisfy," Gene said, and swept her up in his arms. "Jesus, Sare! Thank god we're on the ground floor."
"Oh, shut up!" Sarah laughed, and kissed him as he carried her down the hall, over the threshold, and kicked the door shut behind them.
'Big Ball's in Cowtown,' Asleep at the Wheel
'The Suits Are Picking Up the Bill,' Squirrel Nut Zippers