In the late afternoon, they worked side-by-side washing vegetables in the kitchen to make dinner. He peeled carrots under running water in the sink while she cut potatoes on the counter to his left.

"Do you want to..." she started to say. The grating of his peeler stopped. "...watch action, mystery, thriller, drama, or romance tomorrow night?" she finished.

Cold water droplets flicked at her. The sound of the peeler stated again.

"Hey!" she squealed and wiped the water off her cheek with her shoulder.

He looked so innocent. "What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'?" she laughed and leaned over to splash a few drops of water at him. He dropped the carrot and peeler in the sink and reached for her with a smile. She abandoned her knife and darted away with a squeal, her ankle-length skirt tangling her legs. "Don't get my hair wet or it won't curl," she giggled and scrambled on the other side of the island counter for protection.

He leaned his hands on the empty counter and grinned, with a mischevious look in his eye. "You think the counter will protect you?"

She nodded, still laughing.

"Oh, honey," he shook his head. "You clearly have no idea what SEAL training involves."

When he leapt over the counter in the blink of an eye and landed beside her, she screamed in surprise and turned to run. He caught her around the waist as she laughed and turned her in his arms. She shook her hair out of her face, still smiling.

He pressed her up against the stainless steel refrigerator and pinned her with his body. Her smile slowly faded as she looked into his eyes. The tenderness reflecting back ran so deep. His hands slid down her arms to interlace their fingers. Her heart thudded against his chest as she fell into his gaze. Then he leaned in, his lips massaging hers in an open-mouth dance. His tongue didn't touch, yet it was the most tender kiss.

A gentle warmth surrounded, enveloping its arms around her. Her hands tightened in his. The room spun, yet he kept her still. He made her fly, yet kept her grounded. His hands guided hers to rest on his shoulder, and then a strong hand rested on her upper back. Letting him raise her hand, he held it out to rest in his at an angle. When he took a step back slowly, she followed, still kissing him. A second step to the side, and he slowly broke the kiss to hold her eyes. Something so very close to love shined in his eye.

She followed his lead. He led a waltz. She tensed. Her foot stepped on his, and she fell against his chest. "I can't dance," she said in embarrassment. Then she stepped back and started to pull out of his arms.

He didn't let her go but pulled her closer. "Yes, we can." Holding her eyes, he said, "Relax and feel the slight change of pressure in my hand against your back. My arms are your frame."

When he positioned her hand on his shoulder, his arm wrapped strong and secure around her. Then he took her hand and stepped back. She felt the slight change in pressure against her shoulder blade and took a tentative step. His gentle smile encouraged as he took another step. She followed and fell into his slow rhythm that gradually took shape into a dance. She misstepped again, but he didn't break pace. His strong frame didn't falter and compensated to help her get back in rhythm.

He smiled, his joy making her let go of her fears. The room spun, a little faster with each step. His arm guided and held strong. She smiled, feeling lighter with each step. Her feet flew with his, fluidly following his steps. The silent music in his smile swept her away with him.
"Jason, it's too fast," she giggled as he danced them around the kitchen.

"Stop thinking about it. It's just too cramped," he smiled and started leading her toward the door. "We're perfect together, Emma. You're there, just let it come."

Her skirt swung out as he spun them into the expanse of the foyer. The dance melted into perfect synchronization, no longer requiring any thought to spin around the room with him. He looked so free, the burdens lifting away and taking years with them. The hint of a wall that always guarded his eye was gone for the first time.

Her heart beat faster, and she couldn't stop smiling. He smiled so long his poor face must hurt. But he didn't stop. He spun her out, holding her hand and spun her back to him. She laughed as he twirled them faster and faster, each step a half turn until they swept around the room.
Pete and Trudy peeked out of a side room with wide grins, but before she could be embarrassed, Jason recaptured her attention, seeming oblivious himself to the audience.

He spun her around the room, his smile rivaling the sun pouring in from the skylights. She spun out of his arms, and he met her a few feet away, catching her in a gentle dip backwards. A hearty laugh escaped her, her head falling back. He tipped her upright again. He laughed, the corner of his eye crinkling with joy, and carried her away again. A surge of energy filled the room, and he swept her around in fast turns, somehow not losing their balance as they floated on clouds.

The spinning slowed until he pulled her closer. His hand slid down her back to rest on her waist. His other hand pulled in to hold her hand against his heart, and his good cheek rested against her hair as he led a slow, swaying dance. She rested her head on his shoulder. Something about him was always calm and steady, like a beacon that could handle any storm.

"Emma?" he whispered. "May I meet your parents?"

She leaned back and looked up at him, her feet slowing to a halt. He looked serious.

"If you want, that is. It would mean telling them about my face." His eye searched hers.

Her heart stilled for an instant. "You want to meet them?"

He slowly nodded. "Do you want to take things to the next step?"

Swallowing hard, she nodded. Her heart swelled. "But, are you sure about your face?"

"They have to know sooner or later," he said softly. "They might already know. I heard from one of my contacts that your dad had the FBI run a screening on me." A smile tugged at his lips.

She groaned and dropped her forehead against his chest.

"It's alright," he chuckled. "It's good they worry. It means they love you. Are you still comfortable still living here, though? As far as gossip? I don't anticipate any problems with the townsfolk, and Trudy and Stevens are here, but..." He shrugged.

Her cell rang in the kitchen before she could answer. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, baby. Dad's here too."

"Hi, pumpkin," he said.

"Hi." She sat at the kitchen table.

"Honey, I don't want you spending your birthday alone. We can email you a plane ticket to come out here for dinner-"

Jason walked in and grabbed his cell off the table, giving her a smile before heading back out. "Hang on, Mom." She covered the mouthpiece. "Jason?" she whispered.

He turned in the doorway and walked back over, his eyebrow cocked a little in question.

"My parents are asking me to come out for dinner tonight. I didn't tell them we're going out."

He nodded and leaned a hand on the table as he whispered. "We can move things to tomorrow night."

"Well, I was wondering if you want to come and then we go to the opera? Or is it too soon to meet them?"

He blinked. And then smiled. "If that's agreeable with everyone. I'll eat beforehand, though."

She smiled. He must be very serious about things to tell her parents about his face. Then she tilted her head back, and he accommodated with a kiss. "Mom? Can Jason come too?"

"Jason? Your boss?"

She flushed. "Yeah," she replied in embarrassment when he winked at her. She got up and went into the study for privacy. "He kinda is taking me out to the opera in Chicago tonight."

"Is he sexually harassing you?" Her mom sounded furious.

"No, he's so sweet. He...he had to be in the hospital last week, and things kind of started changing..." She explained his surgery and accident.

She practically bounced to the kitchen a few minutes later, her footsteps so light. His back was to her, and his mask lay on the counter by the sink. She slammed to a halt. He held a glass of water and a napkin to his chin. He drank, a small, steady stream trickling into the sink. Stepping back, she stood around the corner and leaned against the wall. Her heart pounded. How severe of a deformity it must be to have water leak out that bad. "Jason?" she called softly.

"Hold on a moment." He stepped out, with stress clouding his eye. "You saw."

"I didn't see anything but the water dripping in the sink." She searched his eye.

He closed his eye in disgust for a moment. "I asked you to announce before you enter." He didn't sound angry, simply frustrated and embarrassed.

"I was excited to tell you they said 'yes.'" She nibbled her lip. He was going to back out now having second thoughts.

But he looked at her. "Out with your question."

It hurt to see him so ashamed. Everything in life she took for granted was some kind of a burden for him. "You don't need to be ashamed, and I don't think any less of you. Will you tell me about it?" She looked up at him.

"No. And I need that wish respected. There are some lines I need to trust won't be crossed." His voice left no room for argument.

She nodded. "I understand that trust still needs to build. I know you've told me a lot in the past couple weeks." She swallowed hard and blinked back tears stinging her eyes. "It means a lot that you trust me like that. I would never do anything to hurt you or intentionally betray your trust."

"I know," he said softly and stroked her cheek. "It's hard to trust anyone. You mean so much that I'm just scared that you would run if you find out too much too soon. And I know I have to come to terms with that. I'm trying."

"No, I know. I just want you to know I understand why this is hard and scary, and I treasure you. I think I'm more devoted than you understand yet."

He pulled her in for a hug. "I treasure you too, sweetheart. And I don't want to embarrass you, but I notice you have kept the 'love' word in check. That means a lot because I'm not worried about trying to race to catch up in emotions with you. But they're coming so strong and fast, Emma," he said softly. "I have no doubts that I'll say it to you. I don't take it lightly, not that I'm saying you do, I just want to reach that level of you knowing more about my face before I say it. It was so hard knowing my ex felt trapped in staying with me because of guilt. I don't want you to feel trapped because I said 'I love you.'"
"I would never stay out of pity. You don't deserve that."

He hesitated. "Sweetheart?"

She smiled at the warm fuzzy feeling that name instilled.

"You don't have to answer, but I just want you to think about this. In the hospital last week, I talked to a therapist a couple times. I think that's what has helped so much. I just want you to know that if you want to talk to that female therapist, the offer for you to meet with her doesn't expire at a certain date. And you can always talk to me more, if you need to."

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Alright, no more depressing conversation. This is your birthday."

She took his hand and smiled. "They seem excited for you to come tonight-"

His cell in his pocket rang. "Sorry." He pulled it out. "It's your parents," he frowned and answered it. "This is Jason." His face relaxed into a smile. "Thank you, sir. Emma was just telling me."

She blinked. Jason never said 'sir'; everyone said it to him.

He glanced at her. "Yes, sir. We'll be arriving at the airport at five?.Is that enough time for Mrs. Hoplin?..." 'Four?' he mouthed.

Grabbing his wrist and looking at his watch, she shook her head. She couldn't be ready in one hour. "Four thirty."

"Emma thinks she'll need more time than that. "Four thirty?...Yes...Well, I'd say we need to leave for the opera at seven, maybe seven thirty if traffic is good...Alright, we'll see you in a bit."

She wiggled her fingers for the phone.

"Emma needs to talk to you for a minute, Mr. Hoplin." He handed over the phone.

She took it and set a hand on his chest. Her eyes remained fixed on him as she spoke. "Dad?"

"Hi, birthday girl! Mom wanted me to call and arrange pick-up time. She's tearing around cleaning and cooking. We're excited to see you."

"Hey, Dad, I forgot to mention that he has some difficulty eating, so he prefers to dine alone beforehand-" Jason's face didn't change expression.

"Becky! Emma needs to talk. Here, I'm sure Mom will have questions about what to serve."

"Hi, baby."

"Mom, I told Dad I forgot to mention Jason is going to eat beforehand. He has some trouble with it from the accident."

"Oh. Does he like coffee or something instead?"

She kept her eyes on him in case he corrected her. "No, he prefers to not drink in front of anyone."

"We can't eat in front of him," her mom fretted.

He held out his hand and raised his eyebrow in question.

She nodded. "Here, I'll put you on speaker. He's here." She hit the button.

"Hello. I'm sorry to cause trouble when it's a dinner," he said.

"No, no. It's no problem," her dad said.

"Is there anything we can have for you?" her mom asked.

"No, I'm alright, Mrs. Hoplin. I appreciate it. I understand it feels awkward to eat in front of someone not eating, but I honestly don't mind and want Emma to have an enjoyable birthday dinner with you." The dear man visibly swallowed pride for her. "My mouth on the burned side turns down, so even drinking is a bit unsightly."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps we should just have a visit?" Her mom sounded worried.

Disappointment pinged. If they had any future together, her parents couldn't avoid all meals with him. Half of family functions consisted of food.

"I appreciate your hospitality. I'll give the phone back to Emma to discuss with you what she wants to do." He handed it back and started to go to give her privacy.

Catching his arm, she searched his eyes and held the phone against her chest. "Are you alright with being there? I want you to come."

"I'll do whatever makes you happy, sweetheart. Talk to your parents." His eyes held a gentleness but understanding that this was a difficult situation. He brushed a kiss over her brow. Then he stepped out.

"Mom?" She lowered her voice. "I really like him. This is such a big step for him to have even agreed to letting me tell you about the accident."
"Have you seen his scars?" Her dad sounded worried.

"He's not comfortable with that yet. Why?"

"I remember hearing about the fire in the news. Has he told you about the accident?"

"Not much, but I think he will soon. I promised I wouldn't search the Internet but wait until he's ready to say."

"It was pretty tragic, Emma. I have a lot of respect for him for what he did that night, but his scars won't run just skin deep. And you have to think about what it'd be like being in public with people staring. People aren't kind, pumpkin. I want to make sure you're taking it slow."

"I know. But, Dad, I really want you guys to meet him. He's so amazing. I'd like him there for dinner conversation."

"Alright, baby," her mom said. "Just be careful. This dating him and him being your boss has me worried."

"I will, Mom. See you in a bit." She trotted through the halls.

"He's getting ready, don'tcha know," Trudy said when they passed each other. "Then you get yourself in your room so we have time to make you shine like a balloon on St. Patty's Day."

"I'll be there in five minutes." She trotted down the hall and skidded to a halt a his door. Raising her hand, she rapped on the door.

"Come in!"

She burst inside with a grin as wide as a river. He stood beside in bare feet and wearing only pants. He looked surprised. She rushed at him and flung her arms around his neck.

He barely moved from her weight. "Is everything alright?" His arms wrapped around her

"You're coming to dinner. I feel like I'm going to explode," she beamed and let go.

He laughed. "Please don't."

She set a hand on his chest and stood on her toes. He bent down a bit to accomodate her. With a hearty kiss, her hands explored his hard chest, stroking and carressing. Then she backed up. "I gotta get ready."

He looked slightly dazed. "You are so lucky I won't take advantage of you."

"Or what?" she laughed.

He stalked toward her, with a look that promised dark pleasure.

She giggled and backed up. Grabbing her wrist, he pushed her down on the bed on her back and climbed on top. She caught her lip between her teeth and smiled.

"Or you would be writhing with pleasure for hours," he growled and pinned her arms above her head to hold down with one hand. Then he pressed his thigh between her legs and grabbed her breast through her sweater.

"Are you going to punish me, Dr. Port?" she smiled. Oh, she shouldn't be egging him on, but it was so erotic seeing him aggressive when he had such a big heart.

"How I span style="font-style: italic;"want/span to punish you isn't decent to discuss," he growled and squeezed her breast just enough. Then his mouth crushed down on hers, his hot tongue swirling through her mouth.

Heat curled in her belly at the excitement of it. The tips of her breasts hardened under his touch, and she gasped into his mouth. Then he started rubbing his thigh between her legs, creating glorious friction. His tongue plundered and demanded. "Let me hear your pleasure," he whispered against her lips. His thigh pressed harder.

She whimpered with desire, the swelling of pleasure between her thighs making her rub against him.

"Emma, you're making me so hard," he panted as she rocked. "I want to rip your clothes off and sink into you, sweetheart." His hips shifted to press his unyielding arousal against her hip.

She tried to squirm so their hips aligned, needing his arousal against where she burned for him.

For some reason, he shifted back so his thigh pressed between her legs. Him and his damn sense of chivalry. Then he thrusted hard and furious, the bed creaking with his force.

A wave crashed into her, and she arched up. She cried out into his mouth as he forced an orgasm so hard and fast the pleasure almost hurt. A strange sensation swept down her body, and she tensed before it all exploded. She trembled with the release, floating on a cloud and basking in the afterglow. Her eyes opened to see his eye roll back in pleasure, his body throbbing against her leg with each beat of his heart.

"Oh dear god," he whispered. "You are so sensitive." His forehead rested on her shoulder, and he released her hands. Slowly dragging himself off of her, he pulled her to her feet, his eye half hooded with desire. She glanced down to see his pants straining quite a bit. "Go before I get you pregnant," he croaked, his voice so deep and husky.

A shiver of desire ran down her back. Carrying his baby seemed like anything but a threat. But she slipped out of his room anyway, her knees quivering and body still throbbing from his touch.