Free Love in the Air by Nan Ryan Page A

but there are times we have to be together, you know that. Am I asking for the moon?”
    Muscles tensing, black eyes softening, Sullivan, silently thinking he would give her the moon with a bow around it if it would make her love him the way he loved her, said softly, “No, Kay, you’re not. I’ve been a bastard, I know it, and I’m sorry. You’re right, the past is dead. There’s no reason we can’t get along like two responsible adults. Forgive me?”
    “I’d forgive you anything,” she said. Sullivan felt his heart speed out of control.
    Calmly he smiled. “You’re a good kid, Kay.”
    “Sullivan,” she reminded him softly, “the kid you knew is gone. I’m a woman.”
    “I stand corrected.” He grinned down at her.
    Autumn came and with it the turning of the aspen. Kay was eager to drive up into the mountains to see nature’s glorious display, so when Sullivan informed her that she, Jeff and he had been engaged to broadcast live from a new condominium project up in the lovely little hamlet of Evergreen, Kay was delighted.
    On a clear, perfect fall day near the end of September, Kay, wedged in between Sullivan and Jeff, rode in the rear seat of the Q102 remote rig up the winding road to Evergreen. The chief engineer was at the wheel. Blazing color as far as the eye could see made Kay smile and point. She felt wonderfully alive and happy to be back in her home state.
    “How are your parents liking Florida?” Jeff sipped from a mug of coffee.
    “Mom loves it, Dad misses Colorado,” Kay said, her eyes still darting out the windows to look at the beauty surrounding them. “I think if they hadn’t sold their home here, he’d consider moving back.”
    “Nope,” Jeff said resolutely, “they wouldn’t.”
    “Why do you say that?” Kay looked at him, puzzled.
    “You just said, ‘Mom loves Florida.’ Don’t women always get their way?” His eyes twinkled and Kay poked him in the ribs with an elbow. She turned back to look out once more.
    “Oh, there,” she said, smiling happily, “a doe. A baby doe.” She leaned across Sullivan to get a better look. “See, isn’t it adorable?” Realizing suddenly that she was draping herself across him, Kay looked up at his face and said hastily, “I’m sorry I…”
    To her shocked amazement, he grinned easily and said, “The doe is cute. So vulnerable.”
    “Yes,” Kay agreed, and straightened.
    The remote broadcast at the site of the new half-timbered condos went well. The three air personalities, doing a live radio remote from inside the compact studio on wheels, drew a big crowd. There was never a minute when admiring fans weren’t standing in front of the glass-enclosed truck, waving to the three. The real-estate promoters were delighted. Lookers turned out en masse and by the time the broadcast ended at two in the afternoon, several contracts had been written up on new, expensive condos.
    After the sign off Jeff, dressed in his favorite garb—frayed cutoffs, a white sweatshirt and a black-billed cap with the gold braid denoting captain—suggested they have lunch before driving back down to Denver. Sullivan and Kay, both starving, quickly agreed.
    At a sunny sidewalk café in the artsy little community, Kay, Sullivan and Jeff sat at a small table covered with a red-checkered cloth. Full and lazy after eating huge corned-beef sandwiches and plates of potato salad, the three lounged listlessly in the near-deserted little outdoor restaurant, relaxed, content, enjoying the beautiful autumn day.
    Kay, stealing glances at Sullivan, smiled as he told Jeff excitedly of his plans for future promotions. His ebony hair was disheveled and gleaming in the afternoon sun, his navy windbreaker unzipped, revealing a close-fitting shirt of canary yellow. He looked boyishly handsome as he moved his arms around, describing how he envisioned the Columbus Day parade. Kay hardly heard his plans. She was too busy drinking in his masculine beauty, the way his hands