Yeah, it's been a minute... or year, but better extremely late than never if anyone still cares ;)
"Do you ever think about going home?"
His fingers paused their descent on her back as he shifted his head and caught her eyes.
"Home?" He asked, his eyes half open in near sleep. "As in somewhere other than your arms?"
Unable to stop a smile from touching her lips, she quietly replied, "Yes."
As he became clearly lost in thought for a moment, she observed his demeanor as he returned to staring at the covering of the tent; his answer remaining a question.
She'd honestly considered this question on more than one occasion, but had generally been too fearful to ask. It wasn't that she didn't know where his heart truly lay as much as she wondered if he had any form of regret over the life he'd lost. They'd discussed it at length prior to their romance taking flight, but things were different now. Before when she'd inquired, they'd only been friends and while she had no doubts as to the honesty of his prior answers, she wondered if they'd changed at all. It had been three years since his turn and decision to remain in the colonies. She could still recall the way he'd wept in her arms the night he'd made that decision. It had no doubt left a hole in his heart to leave that part of his life in the past; to leave his mother in a world to which he could never return.
"Sometimes, when I'm lying awake at night, I close my eyes and imagine I'm sitting in front of the hearth." He gave a low sigh. "My father would regal us with his day and all the influential people he'd met."
Intrigued, she twisted so she could prop her head in her hand and watch him as best she could in the moon lit night. "That sounds wonderful."
"It truly was," he whispered as she pushed some of his hair away from his face. "I was so honored to sit at his feet as a young lad. I was mesmerized by his stories and longed for the day I could par words with him the way his friends did."
"I'm sure you did," she said with a chuckle, clearly imagining a young Ichabod; full of spirit and energy. "Always so ready to insert your superior input."
"Yes, Madam van Tassel, I wished that very much," he grunted, clearly put out that she'd labeled him as such. "Any opportunity I could find."
"Mhm." She grinned and tapped his nose. "I promise I love you, anyway."
"At any rate, dear distracting woman," he went on, a smile touching his lips. "To answer your question- yes, I do consider returning, someday."
"Oh?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "I imagine you'd like to see your family again."
"Only to show them how desperately in love with you I am," he whispered, bringing her fingers to his lips. "My mother would love you."
Heart hurting for him, she whispered, "Maybe one day you'll get the chance."
"Is it very different?" She asked, attempting to gauge his reaction to the passing buildings. "I know it's quite similar to what I remember, but it's been so long that it's a little foggy."
"Oh, it's..." He shook his head, his crystal blue eyes taking in everything. "It's remarkable."
She'd debated forever on where to set their honeymoon destination. Sandy beaches and other various places she could keep him half dressed had been at the top of her list. However, as she'd laid in bed with him one night a few weeks before their wedding, he'd mentioned his curiosity over what had happened to his family estate.
Without a true answer available, she'd been honest and told him she wasn't sure.
Now, here they were, amidst buildings older than they, headed toward their hotel where her first goal of the evening was to slip into a warm bath with her husband. She'd thought Sleepy Hollow was freezing in winter, but England was changing what she defined as freezing.
Ichabod had been as over the moon as she'd imagined when she'd handed him his boarding pass and the entire plane ride which had followed had been a whirlwind of tongues and roaming hands. The man had taken her to the brink beneath their small blanket with no one around them the wiser. Though, there was one flight attendant she was sure suspected. Thankfully, the woman had been tactful enough not to mention it.
"I think this is us," she said, pointing past him toward the building to which they had just pulled up.
As they climbed out of their car, Ichabod took her hand and tilted his head back as he looked up the building's structure.
"This is definitely different."
With a chuckle, she led him through the doors while being sure there was quite a bit he'd eventually find different.
"At least, we won't have to wait for a fire to heat our room," she quipped, while laying her license on the counter. "Disagree as you may, modern conveniences aren't all bad."
"Ms, van Tassel?" the young girl asked, as she read her license. "I see your reservation has you in room three on the twentieth floor."
"Yes," she confirmed, with a smile before turning to Ichabod. "But it's actually Mrs. Crane, now."
"Oh!" the woman exclaimed, her eyes gravitating toward Ichabod as well. "Congratulations."
Ichabod, for his part, may as well have been a preening peacock with the way his back straightened even further and his crystal eyes glinted when they caught hers. To be honest, the man was absolutely edible. From the creamy sweater to the black jeans to the converse she'd fought so hard for that he now wore everywhere, she was positive their evening would be too involved to wander outdoors.
After acquiring their room key, she pulled him toward the elevator and the moment the doors were shut, she did just what she'd needed to do since he'd stirred her up on that plane. His mouth was hot and wet and everything she'd been longing to have again since they'd deplaned an hour ago.
"Just how big is this bed going to be?" he asked, while slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him.
"I think you'll manage to be pleased," she whispered, as he trailed his lips along her jaw line and down the column of her neck.
This man...
"Ichabod..." she sighed, twisting her fingers in his sweater. "You're so good."
"Mhm," he murmured, never ceasing in his attention to her flesh.
Just as she was beginning to once again fall under his spell, a throat cleared, prompting her to tilt her head to the side to find an elderly couple standing just inside the elevator as the doors closed behind them.
"My love," she whispered, taking a step back in an attempt to compose herself. "We have company."
When Ichabod's eyes caught the couples', his back stiffened and he bowed his head with an apologetic smile. However, the elderly man only patted Ichabod's shoulder with a chuckle.
"No need to stop on our account, son," he said with a strong, Italian accent. "My wife and I have done the same for decades, now. It's like a fine wine. It only gets better with time."
"Oh, Tony," his wife scolded with a smack to his arm. "Leave them be."
"I assure you, it's fine," she promised, slipping her arm through Ichabod's. "We were just a little distracted."
Tony raised an eyebrow at Ichabod. "You've got a fine one there."
Ichabod gave a polite smile. "Yes, the best."
When the elevator stopped and Tony and his wife stepped out, he tipped his hat as his eyes gave a knowing glint. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
As the doors closed, she let out a laugh.
"What?" Ichabod asked, his brow lifted innocently. "He wished us well."
"Oh, my love," she mused, a grin on her face. "How we ever made it all that time in secret is lost on me."
When the door opened again, she grabbed his hand and started down the hallway in search of their room.
"I think we're simply less worried, now."
Door found, she swiped the key and replied, "It's likely a good thing because we'd have definitely fallen under scrutiny for PDA."
"PDA?" he asked, stepping through the door behind her. "Another acronym, I assume?"
"Public display of affection," she answered, dropping her bag to the floor and spinning to gauge his reaction to the room. "What do you think? Is the bed big enough?"
As his eyes took in the rather lavish room, she watched his every move. He was so out of his depth and yet he was doing so well. This room made his old cabin seem like a shack in the woods... which technically it was. Admittedly, she'd been a little worried this whole trip might have caused a meltdown with how many new things he was having to experience. However, he'd barely complained at all since they'd left their house.
"Well..." he began, glancing around with a nod here and there. "I imagine we'll make it work."
Grin only growing, she watched him walk over to the balcony and push open the doors; allowing the cool evening air to penetrate the warmth of the room.
The city truly was beautiful.
Easing up behind him, she settled her arms around his waist and affectionately nuzzled against his back. "Are you happy?"
"You can't imagine how happy."
"If it's anything like I'm feeling, you must nearly be about to explode."
He turned in her arms, a content smile on his lips. "Thank you."
"For what?" she inquired, truly curious.
"For just being you," he answered, pressing his brow to hers. "I don't know how I'd have survived this long without you."
"I'm sure you'd have managed just fine," she assured with a chuckle before adding, "Granted Abbie may have murdered you by this point."
Nodding his head, he replied, "That's likely very true."
As he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair, she considered just how much life she wanted to share with this man.
"We can explore the city tomorrow," she whispered, creeping her hands up his arms. "If you don't mind first exploring me, tonight."
A grin spread over his face as he turned his head into her neck and placed a kiss along the column of it. "I assure you I need no persuasion to embark on that exploration."
"Then, by all means, Mr. Crane," she began, pulling him backwards through the doors, intent on seeing him do just that. "Begin your journey, now."