Three Little Words

“I didn’t say that,” she squawked. “I just said it’s a sin. But I’m sure God understands. He gave me this stupid libido, after all.”

“I think your parents gave it to you.” I closed the bedroom door and

began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Well, who do you think brought them together?” She began undressing too. “Exactly! God. He did the same for us.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so. Besides, if God brought us together, it’s a sin to disobey His wishes.”

I wasn’t about to argue.

“That’s what I tell myself, anyway. It’s probably an even bigger sin to rationalize sleeping with my boyfriend, but not a mortal one. So I have to do what feels right.”

“And what’s that?”

“Give myself to you. Mind, body, and soul.” She did a little dancer’s pose that showed off the body in question.

“That’s a pretty nice gift,” I said. “And I like the package it comes in.

Even better, it’s already unwrapped.”

“And very tingly. Don’t forget that.”

“How could I?”

She reached between us and massaged my erection. “Mmm, someone’s ready.”

“Someone’s always ready for you.”

“I thank God for that, too. Every day.”

A couple of evenings later, Christy came into the bedroom and closed the door. She balled her fists, quivered as her frustration came to a head, and finally stomped her foot. The result was hardly seismic, but it grabbed my complete attention. I set my book on the nightstand and rolled to my feet in the same motion.

“What’s the matter?”

“Wren. Ugh! She’s driving me crazy. All she talks about is sex. That’s all she wants to do when we’re together. Doesn’t she understand that I need to draw her? I don’t have time to… you know… every time she’s horny! I have to make a maquette, and I can’t do it without the sketches.” She stomped again. “Ugh!”

I chuckled and gathered her into my arms. “You want me to talk to her?”

“Yes! No. Maybe… I don’t know!” She buried her face in my chest and let me hold her while she calmed down. “What I really want,” she said at last,

“is to get away for a while.”

“Sure. Where? Atlanta? Camp? The beach? It’s still a little cold, but we’ll make it work.”

She lifted her face. “Do you think we can go skiing? I had such a wonderful time in Squaw Valley when it was just you and me.”

“Absolutely! A chalet at Ober Gatlinburg?”

She scrunched her nose. “I’ve been there before, when I first came to Tennessee. The skiing… isn’t very good.”

“Okay. Then where? Vermont? That’s a pretty long flight. Maybe… six or seven hundred miles. We could do it, but…”

“How about West Virginia? Marianne was telling me about a friend of hers who owns an inn in Snowshoe.”

“Oh? So you’ve already been thinking about this?”

“Yes. So sue me! I know, you’d rather use me instead. But… can you use me in West Virginia?”

“I can use you anywhere,” I laughed.

“And you’re welcome to… as long as we’re nowhere near Wren.” She frowned grumpily. “I don’t think she’s getting enough. Sex, I mean. Trip’s so busy with his own classes that he’s… um… neglecting his duties.”

“Want me to mention something to him?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But don’t tell him I told you. I don’t want him to feel bad. But… if he gives her what she wants, maybe she’ll leave me alone and let me work. I have classes too, you know!”

“Some people need more sex than others.”

“Yeah, I know. Normally I’m one of them. But Wren needs, like, five people to keep her happy. It’s exhausting!”

“No kidding,” I said with a laugh. “Let me look at the sectional charts and figure out which airport—”

“I know already. It’s Elkins, West Virginia. It’s about an hour’s drive from Snowshoe. Someone from the inn can pick us up.” She grimaced. “Stop looking at me like that. I can plan things, when I need to. Besides,” she went on, “Marianne helped. She talked to her friend. And… um… she might’ve reserved a room for us this weekend.”

My poor eyebrows couldn’t go any higher.

“Just so you know,” Christy added, a little guiltily, “it wasn’t my idea to

book the room as Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.”

I burst out laughing. “God, I love Marianne!”

“So… we can go?”

“Are you kidding? And risk your sanity if we don’t? Not to mention Marianne’s displeasure? Oh, no, I’m not crazy enough to disappoint one Carmichael woman, much less two!”

“We aren’t really that bad-tempered,” she muttered.

“Of course you aren’t, because you always get what you want.”

“Well… yes, we do. So?”

“So we’re going to Snowshoe.”

We left on Friday afternoon. We’d told Trip and Wren that we wanted a little getaway for ourselves, as well as to give them some time alone. Wren had wholeheartedly supported the idea. As far as she was concerned, Christy and I needed to get on with the business of having sex, and a cozy mountain inn was the best place to do it.