All Good Things

Epilogue

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Sorry, Lance. If we could give you extra time, we would. But things are getting hotter."

"I know." He sighed softly.

"We're happy for you though. Maybe you can convince her to come back with you?"

"Already tried. She promised the people at the center that she would come back and go through the proper classes again."

"Well, that sucks. Tell her we miss her. When you come up for air, that is."

"Shut up, Joe."

Laughter. "Have fun, man."

Lance shook his head with a rueful smile, ending the conversation and throwing his cell phone away carelessly.

He looked towards the young woman standing a dozen feet away, staring out across the ocean contemplatively. The smile was instantaneous and uncontrollable.

"Abby?"

"No," she replied serenely, taking up where their interrupted conversation had left off.

"C'mon, Abby," Lance coaxed again.

Abby turned from her pose standing against the sunset, and his breath caught. A small, secret smile curved her lips, eyes glowing almost colorless against the colorful backdrop.

"What's the smile for?" he asked, sitting up slowly and propping himself on his elbows.

She shrugged. "Just felt like smiling?"

He shook himself. "Good enough for me. But c'mere," he coaxed again.

She shook her head, looking frightened. "Lance, we had this discussion--"

"Please, for me?"

A sigh. "You promised not to push--I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman--"

He grinned. "All those stereotypes can be deceiving. When it comes right down to it, I want what every other guy wants…"

He could almost see her eyes roll. And the blush.

"You're asking a lot. I only agreed to this--this--what is this?" She turned around again, frowning. "Lance?"

"Whatever you want it to be," he repeated.

"Well, what do you think it is?"

"You're mine," he replied promptly, waiting for a reply. "Abby?"

"Okay," she agreed, thoughtful.

He chuckled. "Is that all?" He'd expected something more of a fight.

"If I'm yours, that means that you're mine," came the simple response. And a breath-taking smile that nearly made him get up. Almost.

He closed his eyes, sighing. "Okay, now that that decision's made--"

"It was only made yesterday," she pointed out, turning back around, but not before he'd seen the color in her cheeks. "Don't you think we're going a little fast?"

"You're the one who used my shoulder as a pillow last night," he teased quietly. "Am I making assumptions?"

The slender shoulders moved in a frustrated half-shrug. "How would I know? You're the one with the experience."

His heart speeded up. "Okay, then as the one with the experience, I say get over here."

She snorted lightly. "It's gonna take more than--"

"Don't worry, it's just hard the first time. If you do this, I promise you'll like it," he persuaded.

Another sigh, heavier.

"You said you liked it when we kissed--"

Her hips twitched, and he grinned.

"That's entirely different."

"Not, it's not. It's just a level of trust. I won't let you get hurt. I'm leaving soon," he reminded her soulfully. "I want something to remember."

Her hair swung, the sunset outlining her profile as she turned her face half toward him.

"It won't be that long," she offered softly, the faint sadness in her gaze making his heart thrill.

"Every second will seem like an eternity," he told her, being deliberately cheesy as she grimaced wryly. "And I hate being jealous of a dog 'cause he'll be spending more time with you for the next few weeks." The idea of his imminent departure sent an arrow of dread through him.

"I only get these few days with you. I want to take them with me until I can see you again." He was almost embarrassed by the level of vulnerability in his own voice. He cleared his throat, laying back down.

"Do you mean that?" He cracked an eye, startled as her husky voice came from directly beside his prone form, almost in his ear. Goosebumps chilled him.

"When I tell you that--" he changed his mind, knowing the words were still sensitive. "Yeah."

Her shoulders relaxed, and he knew the simple response had been best.

He lay there, utterly captivated as her eyes literally smiled at him, her dark, winging brows arching playfully. "If I do this, what do I get in return?"

"We're negotiating?" he murmured, reaching up to touch the slightly damp curls framing her face.

Her head turned instinctively into his touch, the smile traveling to her lips.

"We're all businesspeople here."

"All?" He pretended to look around. "All I see is us, which is very nice when looking from my end, might I add."

He deliberately ogled her, knowing she could feel the stare even if she couldn't see it. He was rewarded with an immediate blush that bled upward from her upper chest to her face.

"Stop it."

He chuckled at the mumbled order. "That doesn't sound like a compromise being laid on the table to me."

"Stop it, or I'll leave." A straight little nose was stuck in the air as she uttered the snooty statement.

"Then I get the back view."

If it was possible, the blush got hotter.

Her head ducked, hair sliding over her face. "Lance!"

"Sorry, can't resist," he murmured, running a hand along her bare shoulder.

"Can't help it?" she grumbled. "Does the word boyfriend suddenly turn a guy into an uncontrollable mass of hormones?"

He winced, chuckling. "Ouch. Hmm, that's a thought. We'll negotiate on your sex-symbol status, later, okay? Now let's talk about you joining me for some quality time," he coaxed, catching her hand.

"Sweet-talker." He smiled at the pout in her voice.

"Please."

"Maybe." She was starting to give in.

"Please."

"Alright," she agreed reluctantly, "But wipe the satisfied smile off your face. And don't try to pass this off as 'quality time'. I'm not stupid--"

Still grinning, he placed a finger on her lips and told her solemnly, "Duly wiped."

"Don't try and slip anything past me, buster. I may be blind, but I can hear the slightest smirk from a mile away."

He burst out laughing. "Can you blame me? You look so cute."

"And you're getting your way," she grumbled.

He tightened his grip on her hand. "I love you."

He didn't mean to blurt the words, but he was glad he did when her face brightened, eyes shining softly at him.

"Move over."

He felt mildly guilty, but kicked the feeling. Using the truth didn't make him a bad guy. Just normal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abby almost jerked back when she touched him the first time.

"You took off your shirt!"

Lance laughed. "Well, I figured we'd be in this position sooner or later."

"We're definitely renegotiating later," Abby mumbled.

"What?" Lance asked, mock-hurt. "The generally accepted way to do this is without my shirt. Sheesh, you act like we should be doing this fully clothed, in the dark, with the lights out," he complained.

Abby lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Would you like to run that last past me again?" she asked, lips twitching to hide her nervousness.

"Whoops. Sorry," Lance murmured contritely, trying not to laugh.

"And let's consider the issue at hand," she argued back, unsure how to remove her hand from Lance's bare shoulder without appearing awkward.

"What issue would that be?"

He sounded like he was on the verge of laughter. Something that she'd noticed ever since yesterday. He sounded--happy.

Which put an odd, glowing warmth in the pit of her own stomach with her own happiness.

"Like what if I fall off during all this?" she launched her argument with half her attention, wondering how the happiness and all the other emotions could exist alongside the butterflies.

"I won't let you fall. And if you do, I'm going to be holding onto you so tight, we'll go together."

The mental picture was so startling that a burst of laughter escaped her.

"A rude interruption," Lance sighed dramatically, grabbing her hand and raising it to his lips.

His lips pressed warmly, sweetly, against her knuckles, and heat flushed inside her.

"But I'd kiss any boo-boos," he murmured.

"Hormonal," she sighed, an uncontrollable smile curling her lips.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll get you there too," he promised.

"A few minutes?!" she sputtered as she caught the phrasing.

"Sugar, you'll enjoy every minute of it," his voice murmured the promise.

"Is that supposed to reassure me?" she asked breathlessly, wanting to laugh and run away at the same time.

"Baby, I'll tell you anything you want to hear if you'll climb in here with me," came the dulcet tones.

"You, I--"

Abby blinked, reduced to stuttering. "I hate you," she complained without heat.

"Hate me in here," he chuckled, unfazed. He tugged on her hand gently.

"You promised," he wheedled.

"I did no such thing. You assumed."

"But as your boyfriend, can't I assume certain things?"

"Like what?" she asked warily, then paused, eyes wide. "Boyfriend?" She cleared her throat, fighting the ridiculous urge to begin giggling like an idiot. She rolled her eyes instead. "You're already asking a lot."

"It's not like I'm going to be able to do this with you much in the future," he told her glumly. "I barely get any privacy as it is. We'll have to save it for when we're alone."

For the first time, she felt a tingle of disturbance. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it," he squeezed her hand. "That's later. We have right now."

"We can do this later too," she prevaricated, smiling slightly as he groaned.

"You little tease."

She jerked to an upright position, sniffing in outrage. "I am no such thing. I wouldn't even know how to--"

"Liar. You're doing a damn fine job of it all on your own. Must be an instinctive thing for the female of the species. It doesn't take sight for a woman to know when she has her guy dancing on a string," he laughed softly.

Abby tilted her head, smiling slightly. "Do I? Have you dancing on a string?"

He groaned a curse as she laughed.

"Sure, laugh," he agreed righteously. "Getting me all worked up for nothing. Promising something you weren't going to deliver."

"And we're back to this supposed promise," Abby twisted out of his light grip, sashaying a few feet away. The sun was warm on her back as she turned in his direction again.

She could feel his gaze on her, and felt her heart jump in response. This, then, was what being one half of a relationship was all about. The newness was strange, but exhilarating.

"Enjoying yourself?"

His lazy drawl filled her ears. "Much, thanks," she murmured, feeling the wild urge to throw her arms wide and spin in dizzying circles, to heck with the dangers.

Then gave in to the urge, hearing Lance's laughter.

She spun to a stop, tilting her face towards the heavens. Thank you, Mama, Daddy. For giving me what you could. For showing me what love felt like so I would know it. I love you. Gramma and Grampa…Uncle Charles…I love you.

She could almost feel them smiling down on her, encouraging her. Approving.

"Tell them thanks from me too."

Her smile grew as Lance's whisper slid into her reverie. "Why?"

"Cause without them, I wouldn't have you."

Her arms dropped, and she walked back over to him carefully.

"Very smooth, Cowboy," she whispered, reaching out a hand until she felt his touch, guiding her fingers to his face.

"I try. Are you coming?"

Nerves fluttered. "Maybe."

Lance sighed in exasperation. "You want me to die from frustration."

"What? You've been waiting all summer, what's a few more…years?" There was a question in her voice as she frowned uncertainly.

"If I have to wait that long, I really will expire," Lance told her long-sufferingly.

She grinned. "It'll be a character-building experience," she promised him before sobering. "I'm just not real good at this--"

"Abigail Prentice!" Anna's exasperated shout made her jump a foot, automatic guilt flooding her.

"You stop torturing that poor child and get in there! You quit pretending to be little miss innocent. Don't make me bring up the times I've caught you 'watching' soap operas and talk shows. And not Oprah, I might add."

Lance tried to smother his laughter as Abby ducked her head, scuffing a foot.

"You hear me, young lady?"

She nodded meekly. "Yes, ma'am." Then she gestured at Lance. "But he--"

Anna cleared her throat..

Abby poked him in the shoulder. "Scoot over and let me in before she really lays into me," she giggled under her breath.

"There's no room to scoot. Just fall in," he urged, grabbing both her forearms. "Trust me."

Trust me. Abby smiled slowly, bringing up her knee to balance precariously. With one quick jerk from Lance, she boarded. Her eyes squinched shut as the world seemed to rock wildly.

"Thank you for joining us on our flight today," Lance intoned pleasantly. "Now open your eyes," Lance's voice rumbled under her ear.

"What's the point?"

He cleared his throat. Her eyes popped open, an involuntary smile filling her as they continued to rock gently. She shifted, and Lance grunted.

"Bladder."

"Sorry." She moved again.

He sighed. "Kidney."

She laughed softly, and finally settled gingerly, uncertain where to put her arms. There was suddenly a lot of bare skin all around her, all smelling of Lance. It wasn't really helping her equilibrium.

He chuckled as her fingers brushed over his ribs. "That tickles. What are you doing?"

"Where do my hands go?" she asked without thinking. "That was smooth."

His chest was shaking under her ear. "That's why you should listen to me. Put them around me."

"And that's smooth?" she muttered, her cheeks heating as she did as instructed, one arm curling beneath her, the other crossing around Lance's ribcage.

"Better than yours."

"Good point," she mumbled, resting her cheek against his chest gently.

"One other thing," Lance murmured pleasantly.

"What?"

"Relax."

"Thank you, Romeo."

"That's Joey. Or J if you listen to the fans."

"Hush," she sighed, wiggling a little to get comfortable.

"Oooh, see, I told you me taking off my shirt was a good idea."

Her eyes widened, and she smacked his arm.

"Lance!"

He just chuckled, his warm palms settling over her back. She stiffened before deciding that relaxing did indeed feel better. Not that skin to skin contact did anything for her nerves, but it felt nice. And the heat in her face could simply be attributed to being warm.

A smile crept over her mouth as she felt his heart thudding under her cheek, vibrating his breastbone. She wasn't the only one.

"Lance?"

She closed her eyes, listening to the wind sigh, faint creaking joining it with the rhythmic movement of the hammock between the trees. The heat increased on her skin, and she knew the sun had come out from behind the clouds.

"Mmmm?"

She moved upward, her head finding the hollow under his jaw.

"Be careful. Too much friction could cause a nylon fire," he warned lazily as their shorts rubbed together, hissing softly.

She giggled. "Speaking of fires," she murmured, mind wandering. "Let's forget my sex symbol status. What about yours?"

"What about mine?"

"Well, we should work on getting you some," she replied innocently. "I don't want to outshine you."

His hands tightened, and she could have sworn she heard him choke on a laugh.

"Getting me some?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, we can do it later," she offered, heart tripping. "We could always start with the kissing thing. Maybe it could rub off."

"Rub off, huh?"

"Yeah. Practice makes perfect and all that. We've got to make some memories for the next few weeks," she added softly, worry fluttering through her.

"Hey," Lance told her quietly, tipping up her chin. "No worries, Abby girl. It can only get better from here."

"And I can guarantee that includes kissing."

Laughter escaped her, spilling into his mouth as Lance's lips molded to hers in that increasingly familiar, soul-stirring way.

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Or perhaps, just the beginning?