“You were takin’ advantage of how much I always want you.”
“Maybe I want you too.”
“Do you?” His eyes are warm, still teasing. But there’s a hint of a real question underlying it.
“Of course I do. How can you even ask?”
He clears his throat, his mood shifting as he does. “I’ve been wantin’ to, but I didn’t want to put pressure on you when you were still so sick. All I know is that I fucked up big time, and you let it slide because we had to move on the Arsenal and then you were so close to dyin’.” He stiffens the way he always does when he gets earnest. “But that doesn’t make my fuck-up go away.” He’s bracing his upper body on one arm so he can look down at me.
“No,” I say, playing with his beard again. I like the texture of it. Rough and soft at the same time. Just like Ben. “It doesn’t. But the problem wasn’t that you messed up. Everyone does that. The problem was that I was so scared you’d keep doing it and I could never… never be who I want to be.”
“I get that. I understood it then and now.”
“But I’m not scared about that anymore. I saw exactly who you are and what you’re willing to do—what you’re willing to sacrifice—in order to let me beme. Because you love me. I know how hard it was for you, and I’m never going to forget it. I’m not scared anymore. I know it for sure now. I can bemeand still live a life with you.”
He makes a rough sound and lowers his head to kiss me again, careful and passionate both. “Forever?” he murmurs against my mouth after a minute.
“Forever.”
He lets out a sigh and flops over onto his back beside me, grabbing and holding my hand tight. After a minute, he turns his head to look at me. “I wouldn’t’ve thought doin’ nothin’ was the hardest thing I ever did, but it sure fuckin’ was.”
“I know it was. I saw it. I knew it then, and I know it now. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He’s a little gruff. He’s getting embarrassed by the praise.
So to shift directions and because I really want to, I say, “So now do you think you might be able to figure out a way to fuck me without putting my health at risk?”
He chuckles and lifts himself up again, pulling down the covers and eyeing my body dressed in nothing but one of his T-shirts. “I think I can prob’ly manage.”
He does.
He kisses his way down my body until his face is between my thighs. There, he uses his lips and tongue to bring me to orgasm over and over again.
At the end, with both my legs hooked over his shoulders and my ass up off the mattress, I’m not convinced this position is any safer for a healing gunshot wound than regular man-on-top fucking would be.
But I’m having the best morning I can remember, so I don’t mention it.
We stayin bed for over an hour since he spends a long time on oral and then I’m inspired to reciprocate. Then we have to collapse for a while to catch our breath and enjoy the aftermath.
But we finally get up after that. I soak in the luxury of taking a warm shower since the cottage is equipped with indoor plumbing and a small water heater. I dress in jeans and a clean top, pulling my hair back in one thick braid and checking the mirror to make sure I look all right.
I normally don’t pay much attention to my appearance, but I want Ben’s parents to think of me as kind and brave and pretty—a good match for their beloved son.
“They love you,” Ben says, standing in the doorway between the bedroom and bathroom and watching me smooth down some flyaways in my hair.
“What?” I meet his eyes in the mirror.
“They love you. My mom and dad.”
“I hope so. But I’m sure I’m not who they were hoping for you. Didn’t they want you to find a sweet woman to settle down with around here?”
His older sister, Abigail, married young to a boy from their hometown. They already have four children ranging from ages fifteen to twenty-one and a one-year-old granddaughter. His older brother, Michael, is living in a neighboring town with two teenage children. His younger sister, Maria, has three children under twelve. Ben is the only one of his siblings to leave the region where they were born and the only one without children.
“They used to think I probably would, but they never pressured me. When I never found a job or a person I wanted to settle with here, they understood my life would look different. They’re gonna be happy if I’m happy. And anyway, they love you. And they’d love you even if I weren’t totally besotted.”
“Besotted?” I giggle.
“That’s my mom’s word.”
