Give Me Tonight

"Not a chance! Two or three's enough."

"Fine with me. As long as one of them's a boy."

"Chauvinist," she grumbled. "You get three chances, and if they're all girls, that's too bad. Having too many children makes a woman old before her time. And besides, I'd be so busy with six I'd never have time for you, and I'd always be too tired to make love, and-"

"You have a point," he said hastily. "Alright, we'll make it three."

"Ben, now that we're talking about our future, there's something I've been wondering about-"

"Later," he said, his breath ruflling the fragile tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck. She jumped as she felt the gentle nip of his teeth.

"But it's important. It's about our marriage, and-"

"Addie, I'm not going to sit here and go through a list." His hands wandered upward, passing her cinched-in waist and hovering underneath her breasts. "Not now. This is the first time I've been alone with you since last night."

A slight ache settled in her breasts, a sensation that demanded the soothing touch of his hands. "I missed you today," he murmured.

She wriggled back and pushed at him. "It's important to talk about this. There are things we should understand about each other. That's what courting is all about. "

Ben sighed, letting go of her and bracing his arms on his bent knees. He sent her a sideways glance filled with sarcasm. "What is it you don't understand that can't wait to be explained later?"

"It's what you don't understand about me."

Suddenly his green eyes were alert. "Go on."

"There are things that I need… this can't be the usual kind of marriage. I'm different from… other women around here. "

"I won't argue with that."

"I'm worried about how- a marriage between two people like us will work. We're both strong-willed, and we each have our own ideas about things."

"I agree. We'll have to make a lot of compro- ' mises. "

"But there are some things I won't-can't-compromise on." She looked up and flushed as she met his eyes. ”I'm sorry I brought this up. I don't really know what I meant to say-"

"I think you do."

"Maybe I shouldn't… it's too soon-"

"What are you pla

Addie couldn't help chuckling. “Oh, stop it."

He took hold of her wrists and pulled them around his neck until her hands locked in back. "Tell me," he said, kissing her forehead. "I'm ru

"I want you to listen to me in twenty years the same way you do now. As if my opinions matter to you."

"They do. They always will. Anything else?" His lips traveled to her temple, lingering on the pulse he found there.

"Yes. I don't want to turn into a belonging of yours, an attachment like an extra arm or leg, someone who's expected to agree with everything you say. I won't be silent during the di

"I wouldn't try to put you up on one."

"You wouldn't? You wouldn't want me to change after we're married, and do everything you say, and never argue with you?"

"Hell, no. Why would I change the things that attract me to you the most?" He stroked the side of her waist and smiled lazily. "Let other men's wives play mindless fools if it pleases them. I'd rather have a woman who has some common sense. And why should I want you to agree with me all the time? It would bore the hell out of me to be with someone who parroted everything I said. Put your mind at ease, darlin', I'm not marrying you in order to change you. "

She looked at him with amazement. How different he was from the other men she had known. Bernie and his friends had been wild and reckless, the kind you shook your head over in private and wondered if they respected anyone or anything, even themselves. Most of the war veterans she had cared for had been bitter and strangely lost, unable to understand themselves or the world around them. And the men around here were a curious mixture of i

But Ben was not a boy. He was a man at ease with himself, assured of his place in the world, strong and yet sensitive to others' needs. He wasn't i

"I won't hand out orders for you to follow. But on the other hand, don't get uppity about it. I'll be damned if anyone but me wears the pants in the family. Understand?"

Addie smiled and bit playfully at his shoulder through his shirt. She did understand. He would be manageable. "You always like to have your own way," she accused.

He bent his head to hers and growled near her ear. "You're getting to know my faults, Miss Adeline."

"I'm trying," she said, turning her mouth to his and offering him a feather-soft kiss. He took it without hesitation, ending it with a smack. "Where on earth did you get such an attitude about women?" she asked when their lips parted. "I'm surprised at how liberal you are. It's because of someone in your past, isn't it. Did you mother teach you to be so open-minded, or was it some other woman?"

He hesitated, his gaze almost predatory as he looked for something in her face. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to find it. "Maybe I'll tell you someday." The combination of his careless tone and piercing eyes made her uneasy.

"You could tell me now if you wanted. You can trust me with anything. Everything."

"Just like you trust me, hmmn?"

Addie's smile faded as she heard the light, jeering lash in his voice. "What do you mean? I do trust you. "

He didn't answer for a second. Then to her relief, he changed with bewildering swiftness, picking up the guitar and strumming in an exaggerated cowboy style that made her laugh. The twangy tune reminded Addie of the western pictures she had seen at the movie house, pictures that had featured slickly handsome cowboys in ten-gallon hats.

"What are you playing? It sounds familiar."

"Something we sing on the trail."

The tune was "My Bo

"Yes it is."

"It's a song for sailors. I even know the words," she said, and demonstrated a line or two in a tuneless voice that made him wince: "'… bring back, bring back my Bo

"That's the part when we sing 'Roll on little doggies, roll on.'"

"Couldn't you have bothered to make up your own song instead of stealing one?"

"It wasn't stolen, just improved. Texas-style." He was so unrepentant that Addie giggled.

"You're shameless. And you need reforming." She smoothed her palm over his shoulder and glanced in the direction of the main house. "But I guess it'll have to wait. I have to leave, slicker."

The mischief left his eyes, and he put the guitar aside. His hand came to rest at her waist, staying her attempt to get up. She almost jumped at the unexpected tightness of his grip. "Why did you call me that?''

"Slicker? Why, it's just an expression." It had been a casual endearment she'd used for Bernie and some of the veterans at the hospital. "I've said it to you before and you never-"