“No. You’re perfect.” Artie’s hand slides to my waist. To my hip.
I’ve taken to sleeping in his bed, falling there, exhausted, to curl up beside him and feel his arms around me. He wakes up at odd hours to go handle something in Tokyo, or Seoul, or New Delhi, and even though I’m the one “hired” to take care of the baby while he works, he often brings Laurel with him once she wakes up.
“A long, busy week,” I whisper. “And tonight is date night with the man who gives me happiness, a home, love, safety... Happiness. My cute pumpkin centerpiece on our little table. I feel like I can sayours.”
“You can. Should.”
“And I feel like Laurel is ours.”
Artie swallows and nods. “I was scared about that at first, but I don’t know why. If having one person to protect you and take care of you is good, two is even better.”
“I love that she’s ours. Mine. But I want to be yours.”
“You already are, as long as it’s okay to say that, to be mine when I don’t have much to offer.” Artie gives me a slow, sweet smile. “And I’m already yours, Imogene. Can’t you tell?”
My heart leaps. Soars. Is this what it’s like to feel like you belong? To be loved? To have someone that they can’t take away? “I was hoping.”
Another kiss. We sway, dancing without music, unless you count Laurel’s babbling as music.
I kind of do.
Artie’s head rests on mine. My eyes are closed, but I hear him sigh. “You deserve to be wined and dined. Have all the beautiful things. I can’t even buy you an engagement ring. Or a wedding ring.”
“I don’t care about that.” I cup Artie’s face, fingers going down his narrow jaw. I love this face. “Rather have you than any piece of metal or shiny rock,” I whisper. “After dinner, want to watch something...romantic?”
“After dinner, we could have dessert.”
“Oh! I finished off the ice cream, and I didn’t try out that cookie recipe we talked about. I could—”
“No, sweetheart. I think we could have a very special dessert.” Artie’s eyebrows raise—then fall. “I’m trying to flirt. I’m bad at it. I meant...”
“Ohhhh. Oh,dessert!” It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows and swivel into him, showing that I understand. “Let’s hope Laurel sleeps through the night.”
“SHE’S HUM-SNORING.Her little tail tip is fluttering. It’s so adorable. Look, I took a video.” Imogene shows me the image on her phone, beaming proudly.
It’s not the kind of foreplay most guys expect, but I love it. I curl up with her on my bed, arms around her waist as we giggle and aww over the video.
When it’s done, she drops the phone. My mouth moves to the back of her neck, pushing her thick, silky pink hair aside so I can kiss all the spots that make her moan and arch her breasts into my hands.
“Do you need to get the—the things you bought?”
I know Imogene is referring to our trip to the store with its in-market pharmacy. We got the baby her antibiotics, a vaporizer for her room, and a pack of condoms.
“I put one on the nightstand,” I murmur into her ear. “But we don’t put it on until we’re ready to use it.”
“Aren’t we ready?”
“Nope.”
I know that some guys would be excited that their partner is planning to take the romance to the next level and rush to the “insert penis here” section of the evening. I don’t feel that way with Immy. I want everything to be slow and soft, so perfect that there’s nothing but good memories, no discomfort... I suddenly wish I’d had sex with more people, or at least more times, because I want to be an expert, someone who makes her come over and over.
Of course, being on the computer all day has some advantages. During my lag time, I’ve been looking up ways to make things special, ways to make sure Imogene gets what she needs.
“We don’t have to rush,” I whisper, rubbing my hands up and down her back. “I don’t care if it doesn’t happen tonight, even though I’d like it if it did.”
Imogene surprises me by turning to face me. “I’m not scared. Or nervous. Not with you. I don’t want to rush, either. I’m just ready.”
She slides her legs over mine, so flexible and bendy, and for a moment I wonder if krampuses have special joints. Her arms slide around my neck, pulling me close for a kiss that turns into one long, unending kiss. It doesn’t stop; there are just pauses to breathe and nod at each other.
