Sitting in his grandmother's chair, she resumed the sketch from the other night. The moonlight offered a romantic, nostalgic glow while waiting for Jason. The clock down the hall chimed half past nine. The butterflies in her belly flapped with excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.
She yawned, the exhaustion from not sleeping well lately taking a toll. In a couple hours or less he'd be here. Another yawn. Perhaps a quick nap before he arrived so she wouldn't be too tired to stay up if he wanted to talk longer tonight. Lying down, she pulled up the blanket. Just a few minutes. She set her phone alarm for ten o'clock just in case.
The morning sun shined behind her closed eyes. She shot upright in a panic and looked around. The clock read quarter past seven in the morning, she was in bed, and her cell phone sat on the nightstand. She snatched it up. The alarm had been turned off. Disappointment slumped her shoulders. Jason must've come in before ten, put her to bed, and turned off the alarm.
Throwing on a sweater and jeans, she knocked on the connecting door to apologize so he wouldn't think she'd been avoiding him. No answer. His bedroom was empty, as well as his office. But then again he didn't have the nonprofit job to keep him occupied ten hours a day.
Prince sniffed and led the way to the kitchen where Trudy cooked flatcakes on a griddle.
"Morning, Trudy. Is Jason home?" She leaned her elbows on the island counter and held back the flush of embarrassment at having to ask the housekeeper where her own husband was.
"Morning. Yes, he's around, don'tcha know." Trudy plopped eggs onto the griddle. Soft sizzling crackled the air. "He tries to keep to the shadows like a ghost when he can't wear the mask. But he's there, Emma."
Her brow furrowed at Trudy's odd choice of words. "Okay. I'm going to go start work." On the way to her office, she left a note on his desk.
I tried to stay up for you last night. Thanks for tucking me in.
Love you,
Em
Then she went to her office. The drapes hadn't been opened yet, so she crossed the dark room and reached for the heavy velvet curtain. A large, familiar hand caught hers, sending her heart racing with excitement. Jason. She looked to the right but could't see anything in the darkness. Wrapping her fingers around his hand, she took a step closer. "I was looking for you."
Fingertips trailed along her jaw in a silent reply.
The butterflies beat faster. His touch had been missing for so long. Her voice fell to soft tones in the darkness. "I got tired and set my alarm in case I overslept your visit. Thank you for tucking me in."
"Did you have nightmares?" His baritone flowed low and honey smooth. His breath caressed her lips.
"I think I was too tired," she whispered and cupped her hand over his on her face. It did seem odd that not a single nightmare had occurred, though. "Did you stay last night?"
"I'll leave you to your work," he said in hushed tones.
So he had stayed...it melted her heart.
"I just wanted to see you being I didn't get to last night, Emma."
Oh goodness, her knees grew weak. She caught her lip between her teeth for a moment in a shy smile. "Do you need help changing your bandage?"
A hint of amusement lightened his words. "Stevens seems to suddenly have better competency now, but thank you."
She opened her mouth to ask him how he was doing with not having the Foundation job. But he might not want to talk about that wound yet. "Are you going to be home today?"
Solemness crept into his voice. "Given my unemployment status and socially unacceptable appearance at the moment, I planned on it."
Oh, goodness. That had come out all wrong. "I didn't mean it like that, Jason." She set a hand on his muscular chest. Thick material brushed her fingers. Even without having work today, he wore a suit.
A soft sigh stirred her hair. "I know you didn't. I'm in ill humor and don't know what to do with myself. The Foundation is transferred over as much as they'll let me. There's nothing with the research to do. I can't exactly job hunt when I can't even be interviewed." A heart-felt sigh followed the words this time.
A former cardiac surgeon and nonprofit hospital CEO who needed to telecommute most of the time had limited options without starting over. Plus, he wasn't a man who followed; he led. And what a great leader he proved to be time and time again. Financially there was no need for him to work another day in his life, but it would be good for his self-confidence and to keep him busy. "Why not start something new? Maybe this happened for a reason. You wanted to do prenatal cardiology - "
He snorted. "I can't ethically operate with the depth perception issues. It's eight o'clock; you should work." The man pulled away and headed for the door.
She turned. "Jason?"
His silhouette stopped just before reaching the light streaming in the doorway.
"You'll be amazing at whatever you decide to do. I'll probably have no idea what your job prospects mean or entail, but maybe I can be a sounding board." She shrugged. "Probably for you to hear yourself, but..."
A smile tinted his voice. "You're far more intelligent than you realize, Emma. Thank you. I may take you up on that offer." Then he closed the door a bit, creating an angle to escape without her seeing his face.
The air swept out of the room with him. It hurt leaving him so lost like this, as well as not having him near. "Jason?" She didn't move in case he came back in.
"Yes?" His voice traveled through the half-open door.
She walked over, keeping the door as a barrier. "I'm glad you came this morning...I miss you a lot."
Not a sound came for several moments. His tone softened. "I miss you too, Emma...I love you."
Tears of happiness stung. "I love you too, Jay." It felt good to release some of the sadness. To not have such a distance. To use his pet name again.
"I'll see you tonight, sweetheart." He must've noticed her name for him. His footsteps faded away.
Sweetheart. It seemed like ages since hearing that name. Such a simple word. And the power it had to sweep her away.
When she closed her laptop at half past five, Trudy entered with a giddy smile. "As sweet as a lamb you look - more at peace. From Dr. Port." The woman set a letter on the desk and folded her hands.
Her brow knit. Jason previously had delivered messages to her through Trudy and Pete or had left short notes on her bed. Communication through a letter was a new one. She opened it.
Dear Emma,
Please accept my request for the honor of your presence in the dining hall this evening. I will not partake in the meal, but Ms. Van Hoodie will prepare the menu of your choosing.
Love,
Jason
A smile bloomed so big that her cheeks ached. Of course he wouldn't want to share meals yet, but this had to be a step in the right direction. Slowly folding the letter, she took the extra time to bask in the glow before glancing up at Trudy.
"What shall I tell him?" Trudy clasped her hands together in excitement.
"Please tell him I accept his invitation." A welcomed flush crept up her face.
The woman beamed and bustled to the door before turning at the last minute. "There are a couple dresses laid out for you to choose from." Then Trudy whirled out.
Curious as to what Trudy had chosen, she headed upstairs. A low-cut black lace gown from the closet laid on the bed. Sequins glittered here and there on the bodice but heavily decorated the mermaid-style, ankle-length skirt. The second option laid beside it - a deep purple, off-the-shoulder dress. Sweeps of the knit fabric draped across the front and melted into a fluttering skirt. Both dresses had an elegant yet sexual flair. Trudy flounced into the room.
Cocking her head, she pursed her lips and studied the two attire options. "Did Jason or you choose these dresses?"
The woman flitted around the room in preparation. "He said he would not be a controlling husband, don'tcha know. I pushed him for ideas of how fancy, and he spilled his beans suggesting these two."
"Am I a little woman who would have a man pick out my clothes?" She frowned.
Trudy smiled. "Dear Jesus knows you're as stubborn as they come. A hootin' blowfish, I'm saying I know you like to see him happy when he's been sad."
A smiled tugged at her lips. "True. I'm wearing the amythest one."
"The menu?"
She tapped her lip for a moment. "Let's make something that'll be easy for him to eat. Perhaps I can entice him to take a few bites with me."
"Mashed potatoes," the woman blurted.
"Good. He struggles a bit with thick meats. Hmm...what about fish?"
Trudy frowned. "Heavens to Betsy, no. You'll be smelling like fish and he won't want to kiss you. Like a pumpkin in the desert that'd be."
Laughter bubbled up. "Trudy, your metaphores are improving. Alright. Pasta? His plate seems to return fast when you make that mushroom pasta."
Trudy clapped her hands together. "Yes! Chicken marsala. Do you need help getting ready?"
"No, thank you. I'll come help you get started so dinner can be ready as early as possible."
A mischevious look glinted in Trudy's eye. "Maybe he'll stay longer?"
She smiled. "Exactly." Then she hurried downstairs with Trudy, almost as giddy as a child on Christmas.
She patted the topknot at the back of her head. Curls fell in soft waves down to her shoulders. Then she lifted the skirt and descended the stairs, her heart thundering in excitement and nervousness. The lights in the foyer had been dimmed considerably since leaving Trudy and Pete in the kitchen. The clink of dishes created a homey music. She crossed the marble floor in silver glittering heels and stepped into the kitchen.
Pete filled a China plate with juicy, plump chicken marsala. Trudy had outdone herself again in the cooking department. He stilled mid-scoop when he spotted her. "Oh my."
Biting her lip in self-consciousness, she ran a hand down the front of the dress. "Too much?" She fingered the diamond necklace Jason had given her for the opera date last year.
"No. He's going to be breathless."
Trudy turned from where she cooked mashed potatoes over the stove. A huge gasp filled the air. "Emma! You're as beautiful as a gem in the ocean." The woman hurried around the counter and fussed with a curl to arrange it just so. "Perfect." Then she folded her hands and held them to her lips as tears shimmered. "Like an angel. Go steal his heart."
Her cheeks burned. "Do you need me to carry something into the dining room?"
"Shoo!" Trudy pushed her out the doorway.
So she wandered to the dining hall just a few doors down. A single candle glowed at the far end of the mahogany wood table near a glass of wine and single place setting. That candle offered the only sanctuary from the shadows. She turned to go ask Trudy when to expect Jason. A hand captured hers. Her head whipped to the right in surprise, searching the blackness.
"Good evening, Mrs. Port," a deep voice purred. He raised her hand to disappear into the blackness. Warm lips pressed over her fingers.
A hot flush swept over her body...and so did a smile. She looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. "Good evening."
"Stunning. Absolutely stunning." His voice fell to a husky serenade, and he lowered her hand but didn't let go.
She flushed harder. Thank heavens for the darkness so he wouldn't see how he could make her heart flutter. "You can't even see in the dark."
"I saw you descend the stairs and go to the kitchen." He laid her arm over his and led the way to the candlelight.
The smoothness of his suit under her hand begged to be stroked. The muscular cording of his arm beckoned to be caressed. The honeysweetness of his voice whispered for a kiss. She took a deep breath to still her heart. "Spying?" Her cheeks burned at the thrill of him standing in the shadows just to catch a glimpse of her.
"Watching my wife in the foyer does not qualify as spying." Then he pulled out the chair. When he scooted it in for her, he leaned over her shoulder and whispered, "The bath, on the other hand..."
Blood rushed to her face as he slipped around the table and back into the darkness. A chair scraped a few seats away and his invisible gaze curled heat in her belly. There was a part that wanted him to desire her so much that he would steal a glance in the bath, but the other part grew a bit uncomfortable over unknowingly being watched. Dropping her eyes to the table, she repositioned a fork simply for something to fidget out the nervous energy. "Do you watch...?"
"It's a pastime I wish to resurrect, with your consent. I would announce my presence, of course." Obvious desire deepened his voice.
Too embarrassed to outright give permission, she offered the table a shy smile. "You find your pleasure in watching, don't you? Both dresses you selected were a bit revealing." This dress's bodice lifted her bust and the neckline scooped down enough that it gave the illusion of a bountiful bust, to her shameful delight. It, however, was not a dress she'd have the nerve to wear in public.
"I informed Ms. Van Hoodie they were mere suggestions - that I preferred more formal attire for this evening."
She frowned. "Why?" Then she took a drink of wine to calm her fluttering heart.
"So I may admire my beautiful wife. I don't believe you would be amenable to dining in the manner I prefer to see you."
If she hadn't just swallowed, she would've choked. Instead, she stared at him in shock.
"Forgive me, that was crass. I have been needing you for too long, and I'm uncouth and on edge."
A frown of confusion tightened her forehead. "My presence bothers you?"
The chair creaked, as if he shifted. "Your presence makes me impatient enough to not make it to the marriage bed."
A rush of desire left her dizzy, flushed, and needing him. Her heart slammed with lust and shyness at his aggressive manner. "Is that you're way of saying you're going to make love to me tonight?"
Trudy bustled in with a smile and a plate of food. "Will there be anything else?" The woman looked at her.
"No, thank you, Trudy." As soon as Trudy left and closed the door, she looked in his direction.
"Not tonight."
She kept her eyes on the food as she cut it, teetering between embarrassment at the rejection or elation that he took such care with her.
"Steps, Emma. When you do recall my face, I will not have you frightened during lovemaking."
Irritation over his lack of self-worth bubbled up and strengthened her tongue. "Did it occur to you that you're setting me up to perceive you as a monster with these calculated steps and measures? Is it not better to have the reassurance that you are still gentle and safe before I remember?" She cocked an eyebrow in his direction.
"Your boldness does surprise me at times." He sighed. "We are in disagreement, I see." His chair creaked, making it easy to envision him sitting back in his seat for a trying discussion. "This is a matter I will not negotiate."
Her spine stiffened and her gaze cut straight to him through the dark. "Neither will I."
"Oh, really?" He sounded more amused and surprised than serious. "By all means, enlighten me as to how you envision this working."
Raising her chin, she kept her voice even keel. "There was nothing wrong with how things were going on the honeymoon. I would say that at this point in time, there needs to be more rather than less openness so you don't feel alienated."
His voice bristled. "You think I'm feeling sorry for myself."
Her tone firmed. "I think you are so lost that you don't know what to feel. The only thing you know to do is shove people away and project your fears onto them. It is not I or anyone else who fears you as a monster but yourself."
His chair scraped back in an instant. A very faint angry glint of his eye caught the candlelight.
She looked up at him and said in soft tones before he could say a word, "Which is why your dinner invitation meant so much that I would've turned myself inside-out if you had asked."
Silence. On and on it stretched.
She stood and walked around the table, letting her hand drag along the chairbacks to find the way to him in the darkness. A chair blocked her path four seats down. Reaching out, her hand landed on his chest. His heart raced beneath her palm. "Do you fear that you'll hurt me?"
His voice flowed defeated in a weak whisper. "I'd never harm you."
"Then why do you make me face the nightmares?" she whispered.
"What do you mean?" Concern filled his words.
She searched the darkness for his face. "The nightmares do not come when you're near."
His chest rose in a huge, silent sigh. "Finish your meal before it grows cold, Emma."
Her hand fell at the failed attempt to win him from the shadows. She returned to her seat and picked up the fork with a heavy heart.
"I heard you, Emma." His gentle voice cut through the silence. "Sometimes you leave me speechless."
She blinked in his direction and frowned.
Gentleness wove through his words. "Do not look so surprised at your power over me. It has always been so and will always be."
Her eyes widened. "Never was it my intent to have control over you - "
"Emma." The quiet calmness of his voice stopped her words. "I would have no one else own my heart. I shall bid you good evening so you may finish your dinner." Then his footsteps receded around the far end of the table.
What could have been a romantic dinner turned into a ruined night that he was ending early. Perhaps guilt should've washed over, but determination took it's place. She shot to her feet. "No. I didn't marry a ghost, but I may as well have with how little you're around."
The footsteps halted.
"You aren't the only one in this marriage."
The floor creaked and he came into view. Soft candlelight flickered over the left side of his face as he took a step closer and trailed a finger over her jaw. A slight smile touched his lips. "There's the Emma I know," he whispered.
She caught his hand, not knowing what to say to make him stay.
"I'll be up after dinner."
Her gaze fell in disappointment, but the only one to blame for it was herself. "I hate this." The words escaped as a whisper. "I feel like a dog who waits all day for a pat on the head at night only to do it all over the next day."
His back shot ramrod straight, as if she'd slapped him. "Never did I intend to create those feelings in you. I do my best to give you space during the day to get your work done, but it is not without difficulty. With each passing day, my desire for you grows and I don't wish to come across like I did tonight. It is because of my failing manners that I am ending our time early."
She searched his pale gaze. He was too frightened for her to make love and too restless to not make love. "If you are worried about making love to me, let me make love to you."
His eye closed and an unsteady breath puffed over her face. "You don't even know how you torture me," he whispered. "No, Emma. I stand by the reasons I stated earlier." Then he disappeared.
True to his word, a knock sounded at the connecting door less than an hour later. The door opened, but he didn't step in. His hand reached out into the firelight in her room. "Come to bed, Emma."
Sitting up in bed, she frowned and blinked twice.
"Come. You didn't tell me that the nightmares stay away if we sleep in the same bed."
She ran a hand through her hair and her brow furrowed. "I said if you stay."
His hand didn't lower. "Other nights I have sat beside your bed and the nightmares have still come. You said that last night you didn't have nightmares. Last night I laid in bed with you while you slept."
This unexpected turn of events, particularly after the disasterous dinner, was a lovely surprise. She stepped onto the icy wood floor, wrapped her arms around herself, and trotted to the fireplace to douse the flames.
"Get in bed. I'll do that." He slipped into her room while she darted out.
The man did not make any physical contact that night, but her knight kept the monsters away.
He had already left when she woke up, but his side of the bed still held a slight warmth. She rolled over and buried her face in his pillow, inhaling his wonderful scent. With a sigh of regret, she left the bed to start work.
After an early dinner, she wandered to the library to select a new book and pass the time until Jason's nightly visit in her room. She flipped on the light and frowned. A trend seemed to be forming that the lights in the house had been tampered with - all of them either had part of the lights disconnected or substantially dimmed. It created abundant shadows in each room - enough to make it a bit eery. Hurrying over to a shelf, she grabbed the first book in reach without looking at the title.
"Good evening." A deep voice said, just meters behind.
She whirled around, her heart leaping out of her chest. The blackest shadows cloaked him. Laying a hand over her pounding heart, she sagged against the bookshelf in relief. "I wish you wouldn't sneak up like that."
"Forgive me. It's the only way to move between the shadows. Did you sleep well?"
"I did." A smile spread. "Did you?"
"I did."
Silence.
"Do you need to brush up on your anatomy?"
"What?" She looked down at the book. Human Male Anatomy. A hot burn flashed through her face and she shoved it back on the shelf. "Oh, I was spooked and didn't look at what I grabbed." A single, not-quite-silent chuckle filled the air. "You're a cardiologist. Perhaps I should ask why you have such a book."
"I did attend med school and had to become well versed in all functions of the body. Including the female."
Holding her head high, she didn't react. "You're trying to shock me. If I need a live male specimen, I'll know where to find a good one."
A rich, hearty laugh filled the air, trying to tempt a smile from her. "Touche, my dear." The laughter still colored his words. "Although, I would then have to brush up on my female anatomy."
She frowned. "You? Oh, I meant Pete." Shocked silence. She held her fingers to her mouth to hide the smile. This teasing is what she missed.
"Saucy wench. You're in luck that I have so much self-control, or I'd have you on that sofa by now."
"Hmm..." She pursed her lips and leaned back against the books. "I envisioned up against the bookshelf."
A pained half-groan, half-growl escaped from deep in his chest.
"You rarely come outside of my room unless you need something." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His eye could be felt burning through her clothes.
"I desired to see your beauty." Huskiness deepened his tone.
A flush of shyness flooded her cheeks, and her eyes swept downward.
"We banter about that and yet this embarrasses you?" He sounded truly perplexed.
"So I'm an odd bird." She shrugged and pressed her palms against the bookshelf behind her. "You perceive beauty in what others perceive as ordinary."
"Then I am blessed to not be as blind as others." The floor creaked. "You should pay more attention in public - men watch you, Emma." His voice came from the right. A moment later the floor creaked on the left.
"I feel like a rabbit with you circling like you're going to eat me."
"Would you like for me to eat you?" Undeniable desire threaded through those words.
A shiver ran up as heat curled in her belly. Her eyes lifted to where his steps slowly moved. "I think I would," she whispered.
"Go before you tempt the dragon."
"I don't fear him." She raised her chin.
"You should because a fierce appetite has been brewing for weeks."
A thrill of delight ran through. "Then satisfy your hunger." Silence. "Jason?" She stepped into the shadows and searched. He was gone.
She sat at the windowseat in her room and pulled the blanket higher. The bedroom seemed to get colder each night, particularly without the fire. Clouds covered the moon, but light danced over the snow-covered mountain landscape and evergreens. A faint golden glow from the small town at the bottom of the mountain lent a warm winter night nostalgia.
A light knock on the connecting door brought a smile to her face. He stepped into the room. "It's freezing in here. I wish you'd have Stevens or I start your fire so you wouldn't catch your death." His shoes clicked across the floor to the far side of the room. "Did you close this heat vent?"
"No." She stood up with a frown.
His cell phone light lit up a vent nearly nine feet up the wall, and his silhouette peered inside. "Lovely. The vent collapsed and the heat is likely going into the wall."
"Is that bad?"
"We'll have to rip the wall out to repair it." He sighed and the light turned off. A loud thump hit the floor - he must've jumped down from whatever he'd been standing on to see the vent. "Come. It's too cold for you to be in here. I'll fix it tomorrow."
She dropped the blanket on the bed and grabbed her nightgown. "I'll change and be there in a minute."
His hand dipped into the moonlight to swipe the garment off the bed, and he disappeared into the other room without missing a beat. "It's too cold. Come."
Propping her hands on her hips, she remained in her room. "I'm not a dog."
"Sometimes it would be easier if you were," he mumbled to himself.
Her mouth dropped open. "I heard that!"
A rich chuckle floated in with the inviting firelight. "I know. I'd hoped you'd come barging in so at least you'd be out of the cold."
With a huff, she stormed in. "One would think you were born royalty with how high-handed you can be."
His room was empty. The connecting door closed behind her.
She spun around, ready to give him her full opinion.
He stood in the dark corner behind the door and crossed his arms over his chest. His teeth glinted in a cocky smile, but the rest of his face remained hidden. "Change for bed, Emma."
Her lips pursed. "And you continue to order me about."
"It's ten o'clock and has been a long day. I'm tired and you need to catch up on your sleep."
His exhaustion softened her temper a bit. She snatched up the nightgown that he'd laid on the bed and headed for the bathroom.
"Out here."
Her feet stopped, and she looked to the right where he leaned against the wall.
His voice softened considerably, grief clinging to his words. "I would give anything to be able to touch you; I ask that I may instead see my wife."
Intense heartache ebbed from him and twisted her heart. Ever since that terrible night, his touches had been limited and calculated. An ache grew deep inside to comfort him in any way possible. From any other man, it would seem like a perverse request. From him, it was a means for an emotional and physical connection. "I'll keep my eyes closed." Her heart beat faster in hope. If only he would let the physical intimacy happen, it would be possible to prove to him that he was no monster.
"I will not be the source of your nightmares. The memory will surface on its own, it's just a matter of when." He didn't move from his home in the shadows.
"If it is going to happen anyway like you say, why not just show me? Here where it's safe and controlled."
"Because I'm being selfish," he whispered. "I want you near as long as possible. There will come a time when you will tolerate my presence, perhaps, but you will no longer wish for it. And I do not doubt your love - it's instinct to recoil from what is unnatural, from what should actually be dead."
Pain from a broken heart swirled inside. Unshed tears pricked behind her eyes. "And what if none of this comes to fruition? You would rather waste our whole lives keeping this distance on the chance I'll remember? There aren't going to be babies, are there? You lied downstairs. There aren't going to be steps to regain that intimacy." Her voice grew thick.
A shaky sigh filled the air. "My promise for as many children as you desire still stands."
"As long as it isn't by natural means." She wrapped her arms around herself, the fire no longer as warm as a minute ago. He probably wouldn't even be there during the artificial insemination. Being impregnated alone in a cold sterile clinic wasn't how she'd imagined conceiving a child. His silence spoke loud and clear.
Walking over to the hall door, she set a hand on the knob and looked to the left in his direction. His silhouette straightened, as if on the verge of stopping her. "You are not protecting me from a monster - you're creating one in my head. The man who has been my safehaven from the nightmares is morphing into something that I do not understand. Skin is no more than a shell. I loved you when you were no more than teeth and an eye and a mask. In my experience with men, I should've been terrified of you then, but you let me see what hid beneath. You won't let me see that anymore, and so you will become a monster I fear." Then she slipped out the door and into her old bedroom.
The demons returned that night. This time in the dreams, Jason appeared. When she screamed for him to help as Gaston tortured and beat her, he didn't rush to rescue her. Instead, he turned and walked away as she sobbed for him to come back.
No more. If the damn stubborn man wanted this distance, she would not be hanging on every minute waiting for him to appear at night. The man did not understand what he asked, and before this went any further, he would be made to see how damaging this would be to the marriage.
During the next two days, she kept busy with work and fell asleep in her old room early. Jason did not appear. The second evening, she went into town with Trudy to get groceries.
In the personal care aisle, a plastic pink hairbrush caught her eye. A red rose painting decorated the back side, the stem extending down into the handle.
"Do you like it?" Trudy's voice cut in.
She blinked and looked at Trudy on her left. "Sorry, I didn't realize I stopped walking. Let's go or we'll be here all night. The snow is supposed to get heavier soon too, so we need to get home." Her purse had been left at home anyways.
"Dr. Port gives me a credit card to use for his purchases. I'm putting the groceries on the card, don'tcha know. He wouldn't object to this going on it." Trudy reached for the brush.
"No, I was just looking." One more glance at the brush and she pulled the woman along. She wouldn't spend his money while on tense terms and give the impression that she stuck around for the funds.
The clock struck half past ten by the time the groceries had been unloaded and she dragged herself upstairs. A very small avalanche just down the road had made the driveway impassable. Her shoulders ached from having to carry in so many groceries, load after load, from the bend down the road. Who knew that feeding four adults over a month could rack up such a hefty bill. And a thousand grocery bags to lug to the house. Prince, however, had a jolly good time racing back and forth on everyone's trips to the car. She shuffled into her room to get nightclothes and then climb into a hot bath.
A wonderful wave of heat hit when she opened the door. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as it began to melt the ice from her bones. Sweet heaven, Jason must've fixed the vent. A fire burned hot in the fireplace as a warm welcome too.
Jason stepped in through the connecting door that sat wide open. "Stevens said you were going with him and Ms. Van Hoodie to get groceries. Where have you been?"
"A small avalanche - "
"What?! Are you hurt?" He rushed forward, a white ski mask over his face. Instead of the eye and one side of the mouth being sewn shut, a bandage hid the scars. His warm hands captured her freezing ones. "Emma, you're like ice."
"I'm fine. It blocked the driveway, so we had to haul the groceries a bit far."
He rubbed her hands between his. "Come get a warm bath." Then he tugged her along and got the steamy hot water rushing into the tub.
Too sore to care about anything other than getting in the hot water, she peeled off her shirt and groaned at the protesting muscles.
The man stepped over and helped her strip, concerned wrinkles marring his brow. "Did you hurt your back?" He held her hands as she stepped into the steaming water.
"I was carrying a bag of canned food and lost my footing. My back twisted."
"Let me help." He knelt behind and helped her lean forward. Then he rolled up his sleeves and swept her hair over her shoulder.
She groaned in relief as his fingers dug into the knots already forming. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek on her knees. Those magical fingers even worked out soreness in the front of her shoulders that she hadn't even noticed.
"Emma? I thought about what you said the other night. If you don't change your mind by then, I don't wish for some tube to get you pregnant by artifical insemination."
She remained silent but stared at the wall, her heart beating faster with hope.
"Perhaps we'll have fertility issues and need IVF but even so, I want to be there with you. I don't know yet how we get back to where things were on the honeymoon, but I want to try."
Lifting her head, she looked over her shoulder. Tears welled. "I want to too. And I'm being a coward, but if we do have to see a doctor to have a baby, I don't want to go by myself."
He shifted to the side of the tub and cupped her cheek, looking her straight in the eye. "You aren't a coward and you won't be by yourself. God willing, everything will work out on it's own just fine. It broke my heart yesterday when it dawned on me that you're worried you'd have to go through it on your own. I'll be there for every fertility or OB appointment. I don't care how well we're getting through things or not, I'll be there. Alright?"
She sniffled and nodded.
"Promise that you believe me?"
With a watery laugh, she nodded.
"Come here, sweetheart." He leaned forward for a hug.
"I'll get you wet."
"Lucky me, my skin is waterproof." Then he hugged her tight.
She shifted to hug at a better angle. And he splashed right into the tub, sending water sloshing like a typhoon.
He shot up, his legs still tangled over the edge of the tub, and sputtered water. "Did I hurt you?"
Surprise silenced her for a moment and she looked down between her legs where he leaned up on his elbow and looked at her with a wide eye. "Um, no. Are you alright?"
"I thought I landed on your knee and broke it." He wiped the dripping ski mask water from his eye and tried to sit up. That only resulted in him slipping back down.
The back of his head smacked against her chest, luckily padded by her curves. "Sorry." His clothes gave him little traction and he slid down again when he tried to get up.
She couldn't hold it back any longer and burst out laughing. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep him reclined against her chest before he killed himself and ended up looking like an idiot in the process.
His laugh bubbled up too and he relaxed against her. "Well, I guess I'm joining you for your bath. That had to be the best cannon ball in history." When the tears of laughter subsided, he tilted his head back and looked up at her. "I love you, Emma."
She smiled down at him, the love blossoming in her heart. "I love you too." Then she leaned down and brushed a kiss over his lips.
He hooked a hand behind her neck and kept her from straightening for a moment. That blue eye dove right into her heart. "We'll get through this, Em."
"I know, Jay." She stroked his left cheek through the mask.
Then he kissed with passion from his heart.