Perfect Timing (25 page)

Sam grinned. “I’ll drink to that.” She winked at Ceara. “Next week, Tucker and I are going to start trying for a baby again. This will probably be my last hurrah for quite some time. I don’t want to drink when I might be pregnant.”

Mandy giggled. She’d pulled her whiskey-colored hair up into a knot at the back of her head and secured it with what looked like a stick. She wore a lovely green top that skimmed her figure, and Ceara secretly admired how it looked, wishing she were brave enough to let Quincy buy her something like it.

“As I recall,” Mandy said to Sam, “you dearly loved that whole process last time. Watching the calendar, taking your temperature, and then calling Tucker home in the middle of the day to screw his brains out until both of you were so exhausted you couldn’t wiggle.” She sipped her wine. “Zach and I have decided we shouldn’t get pregnant until I finish getting my degree in horticulture, so I’m doing just the opposite right now, practicing the ovulation method as a form of birth control.” She wagged a scolding finger at no one in particular. “No more birth control pills for me! I’m a faithful little Catholic girl these days. But I have to say I sure do miss having sex whenever we want.”

Dee Dee released a blissful sigh. “Thank God I’m postmenopausal. Frank and I don’t have to worry about any of that.” Her plump cheeks went pink. “He is something, let me tell you. After we got married, I figured he’d dwindle off to maybe once every couple of weeks, but except when he puts in an extra hard day, he’s an every-night man.” She giggled. “A few months ago, I even tossed my electronic boyfriend in the trash.”

Rainie gasped. “You
threw away
a perfectly good vibrator? What if Frank’s gone to a horse auction, and you get to feeling horny?”

Dee Dee smiled dreamily. “I’d rather do without until the real thing gets home, so Mr. Purple had to go.”

Ceara was fascinated by the exchange, even though she understood little of what was being said. What was the ovulation method? What were birth control pills? And most curious of all, what was an electronic boyfriend, and did Quincy’s father know about Mr. Purple?

Rainie giggled after sipping more wine. “You’re missing the boat, Dee Dee. Parker really gets turned on if I fool around with Mr. Purple during foreplay.” Ceara’s eyes widened at the second mention of Mr. Purple. Rainie shivered her shoulders. “God, he gets so hot he turns into a wild man.” She took another sip of wine and directed a glance at Loni. “I am so glad you’re starting to feel better. It’s been
way
too long since we’ve done this. I’ve really missed our girl talks.”

“Me, too.” Loni was still nursing her first glass of wine, which she’d said earlier would help replenish her iron counts. “Clint and I . . . well, he’s still in careful mode.” She shrugged. “I suppose that’s a good thing. I’m much better, but I’m a long way from completely recovered yet.” A wistful look came into her eyes. “We’ve done it once. Milquetoast all the way. He acted like I might break.”

Dee Dee reached over to pat Loni’s hand. “He almost lost you, dear heart. Once he starts to feel certain you’re well, he’ll be less careful, and the sex will be fabulous again.”

Loni smiled, but Ceara could tell by the way her lips only faintly curved that she was growing weary. She set aside her wine and relaxed back on her chair, her gentle gaze turning to Ceara. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve gotten a sex report from everyone but you, sister, dear. How’s married life treating you?”

Ceara would have preferred to tell them about mowing down Quincy’s shed during her driving lesson. In her time, women didn’t discuss the private things that happened between man and wife. Or did they? Her mum had always shooed her and Brigid from the room when her married lady friends came to call. Ceara wasn’t sure how she should respond, even if her tongue hadn’t been stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“Come on,” Rainie urged. “Quincy’s a Harrigan. He’s got to be phenomenal in the sack.” A flush inched up her neck. “Not that I’ve ever looked at him that way. Parker is my one and only.”

“I must ask ye, then,” blurted Ceara. “Who is Mr. Purple, and does Parker know about the man?”

There was an instant of dead silence and then the women exploded with laughter. Rainie choked violently on her finger sandwich and had to be pounded on the back by Dee Dee. As soon as she could speak, Dee Dee put a reassuring hand on Ceara’s arm. “Dear, we’re not laughing at you. It’s just that we never thought about your not understanding. A vibrator is something people use to stimulate themselves sexually. They come in different colors. Rainie and I both happen to have purple ones.”

Rainie, still red in the face, cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Ceara. We should have realized. But getting back on subject, how are you and Quincy doing in that department?”

“I . . . um.” Ceara felt like a fly stuck to a strip of cloth slathered with tacky honey. “We are . . . doing well. He’s teaching me how to cook.” She told them about trying to build a fire in Quincy’s oven, and everyone laughed until they got tears in their eyes. They succumbed to mirth again when Ceara shared her trials in learning how to program the MasterChef functions.

“I detest his ovens,” Rainie said. “Give me a plain old knob to turn any day.”

“I have MasterChef,” Loni inserted, “and I love both my ovens.” She winked at Ceara. “They aren’t straightforward, though. It may take you some time to figure them out.”

Ceara hoped to continue the conversation as she’d begun, sticking to impersonal topics, but this handful of women, who were so relaxed about sharing intimate secrets, made her feel as if she should do the same. Thinking carefully before she spoke, she finally added, “As for the marital bed, we’ve been together that way only once, on our marriage night, to break the curse.”

Stunned silence fell.

“Only
once
?” Rainie cried.

“Damn,” Mandy interjected.

Dee Dee followed with, “Oh, my, that doesn’t sound quite right. Is all well between you?”

Ceara had been feeling really happy from two full glasses of wine in her tummy, but suddenly she found herself looking at these other women with tears in her eyes. “Nay, na well.”

As if she were a bottle that had been uncorked, she blurted out the whole story.

Rainie propped her elbows on the table. “Let me get this straight. You made love to break the curse, and it was really nice for you. But the next morning, Quincy got a wild hair up his butt about needing to know that for sure?”

“Yes,” Ceara replied, pitching her voice to a whisper. “He wants words from me, so I gave him words, but me words were na what he wished to hear.”

Mandy took two big swallows of wine. “Quincy. Doesn’t it figure? The man’s so anal. What words did you say to let him know you enjoyed being with him?”

Ceara thought back, wanting to tell them exactly what she’d said. Only she couldn’t quite recall. “He wanted to know if ’twas good fer me,” she revealed, feeling scorching heat blaze to her cheeks. “And to say it in words isna ladylike. Me mum would have fits if I were so brazen. So I told him I wouldna object if he approached me again with thoughts like that in his mind.”

Rainie choked, this time on her wine, and spewed liquid out her nose. She swatted at the tablecloth with her napkin, laughing and murmuring an apology, but she didn’t appear to be truly remorseful. “You told him you wouldn’t
object
?” She giggled again. “Oh, God, poor Quincy. He’s so country, that probably totally flummoxed him.”

Dee Dee joined in, mirthful and hugging her ribs. “You wouldn’t
object
?” She flapped her hand. “Oh, God, I think I’m having a heart attack.” When Mandy looked alarmed, Dee Dee waved her away. “Just a figure of speech. My heart is perfectly fine.”

Sam broke in. “You know, ladies, this is my brother we’re talking about. I know he’s a little weird about what he eats, but he’s otherwise a man to set the gold standard. This isn’t really funny. Think of it from his viewpoint. He and Ceara were forced into marriage. He had no choice but to consummate that very night. Ceara was a virgin. Cut him some slack.
Of course
he’s reluctant to go back for seconds. You can make fun of Quincy all you want, but he is first, last, and always a gentleman. He asked Ceara for a verbal go-ahead, and she didn’t really give him one.”

“Nay!” Ceara protested. “I gave him a fine one! I told him I wouldna object to future advances. ’Tis the way a proper lady conveys to a man that she will welcome his attention.”

More hysterical laughter broke out. Even Loni, weakened by her previous illness, giggled until tears came to her eyes. Finally, she commanded silence with an uplifted hand. “Ceara, did you enjoy sex with Quincy that first night?”

Ceara knotted the edge of the tablecloth in her fists. “’Twas pleasant.”

“Pleasant?
Pleasant?
” Rainie nearly choked on her wine again. “Is that what you told Quincy?”

Ceara let her mind drift back to that moment. “Yes, surprisingly pleasant, much better than the goings-on between pigs.”

Rainie chortled. Mandy followed Dee Dee’s example and hugged her ribs as fits of mirth overcame her. Loni finally called for order with another lift of her hand. “Okay, ladies, enough. What we have here is clearly simple miscommunication. Ceara speaks of these things as she was taught a proper lady should, and Quincy, being from this time, needs a lot more encouragement from her than that.”

Wiping under her eyes, Rainie asked, “So what is the solution?”

Loni met Ceara’s gaze. “I completely understand that you were raised with strict rules to govern your every word and action. None of us are faulting you. Please know that. But you must find a way, while remaining true to your own code as a lady, to tell Quincy that you enjoyed being with him and want to be with him again.”

Ceara truly
did
want to be with Quincy that way again, but she wasn’t at all sure he wanted to be with her. “’Tis possible that me husband finds me unattractive in that way. I am reluctant to press him fer attention if he isna so inclined.”

“That’s just plain silly,” Rainie inserted. “That day when we were shopping, he could barely take his eyes off you. He doesn’t find you unattractive, I promise.”

“It’s just that he isn’t certain you find
him
attractive,” Loni pointed out. “In this day and age, men are accustomed to women who have no problem speaking their minds about sex or telling a man what they like or don’t like. From Quincy’s point of view, he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to press you into making love with him again unless he’s positive you really want to. Do you?”

With a swift mental apology to her mother, Ceara took the plunge. “I
really
want to. But all the ways I have tried to let him know have failed to work.” She leaned toward Loni. “What words must I say to him?”

Loni lifted her goblet and drank the rest of her wine in three big swallows. “I think the thing you will feel most comfortable with is to slightly change your ladylike response to Quincy. Instead of telling him you will not object to his advances, can you be so bold as to say that you will welcome them? It’s a matter of changing only a couple of words.”

Ceara considered that suggestion and finally nodded. “’Tis not strictly ladylike to tell a man ye will
welcome
his advances, but it isna completely brazen to do so, either. I think I can say that.”

“Problem solved,” Mandy inserted.

“Not completely,” Rainie corrected. She settled a solemn gaze on Ceara. “No more mentioning pigs, okay? Leave all the barnyard animals out of it.”

Ceara felt that was unfair. “When I told him I felt it was much nicer than what happens between pigs, I meant it as a grand compliment.”

Everyone at the table except Ceara went limp with laughter again.

Rainie suddenly shot up her arm, reminding Ceara of her childhood when she’d been tutored with her older brothers and had waved her hand high to garner the attention of their teacher. Everyone at the table stopped laughing and talking.

Rainie fixed a questioning gaze on Ceara. “When I took you shopping, I didn’t think to buy any lingerie. You’re not still wearing that flannel granny nightgown to bed, are you?”

Ceara shifted uncomfortably on her chair, sensing that she’d made a huge mistake by wearing the garment. “’Tis a verra comfortable and warm gown. I quite like it.”

At least no one laughed this time. Dee Dee looked solemn and said, “Oh, you sweet dear.” Loni shook her head and said, “Well, that won’t do.” Rainie covered her face with her palms and said, “Well, shit.” Mandy was the last to comment, with a question directed to Rainie. “You bought a
bride
a
granny
gown? What on earth were you thinking?”

The next thing Ceara knew she was being ushered upstairs to Loni and Clint’s bedchamber, with Dee Dee supporting their weak hostess as they made the climb. Once they were all inside the room with the door closed, Rainie said, “Which is your lingerie drawer, Lonikins?”

Loni, now lying on her bed with her shoulders propped up against fluffed pillows, directed her sister-in-law to the proper drawer of her walk-in closet, and moments later Ceara’s eyes were nearly popping out of her head when she saw the skimpy bits of lace that these women expected her to wear in order to entice her husband.

“I canna,” was all Ceara could think to say. “There is no
cloth
. I canna possibly.”

“Honey, you don’t buy lingerie for what there
is
,” Dee Dee assured her. “You buy it for what there
isn’t
.”

Loni silenced the feminine chatter with, “Ceara’s right. We have to find something that’s sexy but also concealing enough that she’ll feel comfortable in it. She won’t be very seductive if she’s so embarrassed she’s trying to hide herself.” Loni sat forward on the bed, bracing her elbows on her spread knees. “Dig deeper, Rainie. I have a beautiful black camisole slip in there. It reaches almost to my knees. She won’t feel as naked in that, and there’s also a black lace peignoir.”

The mentioned garments were finally unearthed, and Ceara’s heart started to beat double-time. “I canna,” she protested, but all the other women in the room said, “Oh, yes, you can.”