OUR PLANS TO GOto the Maldives had to be delayed for a few months, but I was happy to have survived being shot. The people around me probably couldn’t tell I was happy by all the bitching I was doing as I convalesced. It was hard enough recovering from the gunshot wounds, but the physical therapy for my shoulder was pure torture. I had to tough it out if I ever wanted the strength to be able to suspend my weight on my hands to make love to Mitch.
We found all kinds of new and inventive positions while I was laid up in bed. Still, I wanted Mitch beneath me while I moved in and out of his body and stared into his dark, mesmerizing eyes. I tried to get my love groove on before the doc gave me the all clear, but Mitch wouldn’t let me. My balls were so blue they were nearly black by the time I was deemed healthy enough for “exertion.” I won’t lie, my disposition improved a lot once I was able to be loved by Mitch.
“Thank fuck you got laid. I was about ready to hold the pillow over your face,” Vic had commented when he stopped in for a visit one day. Where Mitch had tiptoed around trying to please my every non-sexual whim, Vic would snarl right back at me. He would say things like “quit your bitching and be glad to be alive” or “shut the fuck up and eat the broth Edna made you.”
Before I knew it, Thanksgiving arrived and I made a commitment to lose any remaining grouchiness over things I still couldn’t do and concentrate on making Mitch happy. He was so excited about our first holiday as a couple and the guests that would be joining us. What a motley crew we were too.
You had millionaires Max and Mitch breaking bread with ex-soldiers turned mercenaries, our foster family, and Edna and her family. It was the best holiday I’d ever had. The food was amazing, the conversations were engaging and fun, and the betting on the outcome of the football games were hilarious. It wasn’t the awkward social gathering I had expected.
Vic and Hammer pulled Mitch and me aside at one point and told us they were getting married. That part didn’t come as a surprise to me, but them asking us to stand up beside them at their wedding did. I was honored and I could tell that Mitch was as well.
Later that night, I lay awake as Mitch slept soundly beside me. I wanted that same commitment with Mitch. I wanted him to belong to me in every conceivable way, but I wasn’t sure the time was right. I mean, we didn’t start our relationship under the best circumstances. We never really dated at all. Sure, there were a few times we went out, but it was to try and draw out a killer, not because we chose to go. Because of that, I made a tough decision that was met with a fuckload of opposition and misunderstanding.
“What? You want to move back to your house?” Mitch asked the day after Thanksgiving. “Have I done something wrong?” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t possibly understand. I hoped I could give him an explanation that he found acceptable. Hurting him was the last thing that I wanted to do, but I strongly felt that we both deserved a real courtship. Maybe I was the only one who worried, but I had a right to feel the way that I did.
“I want to begin again with you,” I told him, reaching for his hand. I chuckled inside because I could remember thinking the same thing before we got together. “I’m not saying that I doubt that either of our feelings are real, Mitch, because I know you love me as strongly as I love you.”
“Then what?” His voice lost some of the sharpness and hurt. “Why can’t we begin again while still living together? Why do you think we have to live separately in order to date?”
“It’s just the way that I feel and I’m not sure how I can better explain it to you.” I took a deep breath and tried. “We wanted each other from the moment our eyes connected in that restaurant. I wouldn’t allow myself to give in to my desire for you because I didn’t want to be another one of your castaways. I began to realize that you wanted me for more than one night and then I worried that I couldn’t be what you needed sexually.” I briefly closed my eyes and took a breath before I continued. “We had our first night together and it was incredible; even then I knew I wanted to be whole so I could be with you in ways that I never could with anyone else. Then all hell broke loose, Mitch.”
“I thought that brought us closer though,” Mitch said.
“Babe, situations like that tend to bring high emotions that can result in relationships that aren’t based in reality. That’s all that I’m trying to say. We deserve to do this the right way; you deserve for me to pursue you like a man who’s madly in love with you.”
“How much time do you think you’re going to need to date me properly?” he asked dryly. “Can I play hard to get to at least make it a little interesting?” At last, I saw a glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t hate me when I moved out temporarily; I had every intention of moving back in.
“I honestly don’t know, babe, but I’ll know when it feels right,” I answered.
“Well, don’t take too damn long,” he said before he leaned in for a kiss.
The first thing I did in my attempt to romance Mitch was read some of his favorite Agnes Simmons books. I didn’t tell Mitch that of course. I went to Edna for help. See, I never tried to date or romance a man that I wanted to keep in my life and grow old with so I needed help.
Step two was to send him flowers at work. I was a nervous fucking wreck waiting for them to be delivered. What if he thought flowers were feminine? I searched out masculine floral arrangements before I placed the order, but that didn’t mean he would like them. They were delivered and sitting on his desk when he returned from a meeting. He just stood in the doorway for several seconds before he walked over to them. He lightly touched the petals on the blue hydrangeas, white lilies, lavender, and white roses. I thought the blue crystal vase was a nice touch, but what the hell did I know?
He turned and looked at me with so much joy in his eyes. “These are beautiful, Mark. I love them so much.”
“How do you know they’re from me?” I asked, then wanted to kick myself for my nervous response.
“Because you’ve been acting more nervous than a whore in church and I wondered what you had up your sleeve. Were you afraid I’d be offended that a man sent me flowers?” He rolled his eyes when I nodded. “I’m not offended that you took the time to pick out something nice for me.” He tipped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I think you might’ve been onto something when you said we needed to romance and date each other properly. That means I need to be doing the same for you,” he added. “Now, shut the door so I can thank you properly for my beautiful flowers.”
I hurriedly shut the door and collected my kiss. My brain often shut down when Mitch’s mouth was pressed against mine so I didn’t pay much attention to his remark about romancing me in return. That night I took him on our first official date. I treated him to the best burgers from a mom and pop restaurant before I took him to a movie.
The movie theater I chose wasn’t the modern day variety with digital films, I took him to an old historic theater I loved that still used the old fashioned reels. That night they were showing a marathon of classic ’80s slasher films that Mitch loved. We sat up in the empty balcony and shared popcorn and drank soda before we made out like horny teenagers.
“I had an amazing night, Mark,” he said when I walked him to his front door.
“It was just burgers and a movie,” I replied. I figured a part of me would always wonder if the things I could offer Mitch would be enough. I also was smart enough to realize it was my problem, not his, and something I had to work out for myself.
“They were the best burgers I’d ever had and the movies were a total blast. I forgot how much I loved watching those old films.” He hooked a finger in my belt loop and pulled me tight against him. “This weekend it’s my turn to romance you. Kiss me,” he demanded, so I did.
Saying goodnight and walking away from him was pure torture because the life I wanted with the man I loved was through the polished wood doors behind him. It was especially hard when I saw the same yearning and need that I felt reflected in Mitch’s dark gaze. Yet, I knew it was the right thing for us so I returned to my lonely, quiet home after a series of long, sensual goodnight kisses.
The following weekend Mitch texted me and told me to dress casual and pack and overnight bag. He was practically bouncing with excitement when he picked me up Saturday morning. He refused to tell me where we were going right up until we boarded one of the smaller corporate planes.
“Napa Valley,” he said when the plane was taxiing down the runway.
We went on a tour of some of the best known wineries in the afternoon and that evening Mitch surprised me with a hot air balloon ride as the sun was going down. We shared a bottle of wine and ate cheese, crackers, and fruit as we took in the magnificent view.
