"It is. Completely over." She turned in his arms, locking her hands behind his back and smiling up at him. "Clay, are you actually jealous?"
"Yes," he answered, looking stricken. "Dammit, Spring, I've never been jealous in my life!"
"Don't be, Clay. Roger's engaged and very happily so. And even if he weren't, you wouldn't have to worry. Don't you know how much I—" Her smile faded as she stopped herself, then she lifted her chin and finished the sentence. "Don't you know how much I love you, Clay McEntire?"
There. She had said it. She was tired of hiding her feelings.
"And I love you," Clay whispered, lowering his head to hers. "Oh, God, how I love you!" And forgetting that they were not alone—or, more likely, not caring that they had an audience—he kissed her with all the love and need inside him.
Too happy to be embarrassed, Spring returned the kiss. She stayed very close to his side—and he to hers—for the remainder of the party.
* * *
"I love you, Spring."
"I love you, too. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I did. I told you Monday."
"But you haven't said it since."
"That's because I was waiting for you to say it."
Spring giggled. "God, we sound like teenagers."
He moved sinuously on top of her, bare skin sliding against bare skin as they lay in her bed. "Funny, I don't feel like a teenager."
Her eyes darkened and grew heavy. "No. No, you certainly don't. Oh, Clay."
* * *
Clay laughed softly, the movement vibrating his damp chest below her cheek. She lifted her head and looked at him curiously, her body gradually recovering from their intense, mind-shattering lovemaking. "What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking that I finally understand why Derek kept threatening to break my arm every time I put it around Summer when he first fell in love with her. It really brings out the caveman in a guy to see his woman looking so cozy with another man."
Remembering Clay's possessive reaction to Roger, Spring smiled and shook her head. "Derek's gotten over those jealous urges. You will, too."
"I suppose. But I still don't like other guys kissing you," he warned her semiseriously. "Especially old boyfriends."
"Now you know how I felt when Jessica started checking out the fit of your tight pants at Connie's party."
That piqued his interest. "Is that right?"
"I wanted to scratch her eyes out. And that's the first time in my life I ever wanted to do physical injury to another person. Other than you, of course."
"Of course." He cuddled her closer, his hand making lazy circles on her back. "These feelings between men and women are very complicated, aren't they? Overwhelming. Even scary sometimes."
"You're the psychologist. You should understand them," she replied, trying to keep the conversation light.
He shook his head. "It's different reading cases in books and actually experiencing the situations oneself. A few months ago I would have said that jealousy was counterproductive and unhealthy, that rational, clear-thinking adults did not waste time indulging in such negative emotions. I still believe that, and yet I wanted to rip off Roger's lips when they touched your face. So much for all that training."
"You're human. Clay. You managed to overcome your impulse and behave quite properly. You even had a very nice conversation with Roger before we left tonight."
"Well, he's not such a bad guy. A little dull, maybe, but Cathy will liven him up a bit. He wouldn't have been right for you, Spring."
"I know, darling. You're the one who's right for me. Exactly right for me."
"I love you."