“Oh, I would definitely like towoothe shit out of her, but she’s been somewhat difficult in that area.”
Jackie slapped him upside the head. “Don’t be fresh.”
I laughed at his pained wince.
“Yeah, E.G.” I cackled. “There is going to have to be a lot more wooing going on before we even think about a wedding.”
I reached for more cheese and another cracker and this time the look he gave me was a little more inscrutable. But I think he was saying something like…
Game on, Flowers.
FORTY-TWO
GRANT
He wasn’t above lying to get what he wanted. And he felt a little guilty about that.
I leanedin the doorway of her bedroom while I watched her prepare for bed. My parents flew back to Florida earlier that afternoon with promises or threats to return soon. I wasn’t exactly sure which one.
Their three-day stay with us had been illuminating, however. They made it clear they expected me to make an honest woman of Flowers.
I made it clear that I would marry her tomorrow if she would have me.
Flowers made it clear if I wanted her to agree to marriage, I had to prove that I was capable of moving forward.
This was a conundrum.
But I’d always been pretty good at solving puzzles.
Because I was pretty sure Flowers wanted to believe I could love again. Which meant I only had to appear that I could.
That I did.
Love her.
How hard could it be? I cared for Flowers. I liked Flowers. Fucking Flowers had been one of my favorite activities in possibly a decade and I wanted to do more of it and very soon.
If I could convince her it was close enough to love, maybe I could get her to marry me.
In that regard, I believed I was leaving a very important weapon in this battle on the shelf.
“I think we need to be having sex,” I said.
That stopped her in her tracks. She had a toothbrush in her mouth, her hair was up in one of those messy buns. She wore her traditional leggings and tank top, but now I could see the outline of my child against her stomach. Small, but noticeable.
“What was that?”
“Sex. I want to have sex with you. I know you took it off the table, but I think we should put it back on it. Because, if I’m ever going to be healed, really healed, I think sex has to be a part of that.”
“Wait here,” she mumbled around her toothbrush and went back into her bathroom, probably to rinse her mouth. A moment later she came back with fresh breath and a suspicious attitude.
“Are you telling me you want me to heal you with sex?”
“I’m told men can be healed with the power of a good blow job.”
“E.G.,” she growled.
“I think it would help, is all I’m saying. Sex is a very intimate activity, obviously. It allows us to be closer and connected in ways that just living together can’t accomplish.”
