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"I was thinking we could grab lunch and then maybe go buy your dad a new grill?" he suggested after an hour or so of content silence on the mattress the next morning.
"Are you that afraid Papi will kill you when he finds out you're marrying his daughter?" Betty asked, amused.
"No . . ." Daniel denied.
Betty gave him a look.
"Ok, maybe . . ." he confessed.
"Babe, you know Papi loves you," Betty assured him.
"That was before. I was just the guy you were seeing - the guy who used to be your lame-ass friend/boss. I asked him for advice all the time and threw up in every room in his house – embarrassing, but forgivable. Only then I go and abandon his daughter in a foreign country for six years because of my freakin' pride. He seems to be okay with everything. But now I'm his future son-in-law – he's stuck with me," he argued.
"So am I, but I think we can both power through it," she patted his cheek.
"Hilarious," he scoffed. "I'm thinking the grill might soften the blow."
"Daniel, you don't have to do that. There's no blow to soften. Papi knows what happened – he knows it was my fault, too. And it wasn't your job to protect me. It was my choice to move there and I did it alone. Sure, I asked you to stay as my friend, but it wasn't your responsibility to be there for me," Betty reassured him.
"Betty, if I had been any kind of friend at all, I should have stayed . . . I should have sucked it up and given you the support that you had given me for all those years when I didn't even deserve it. You did," he insisted.
"Daniel, we've talked about this. I had no right to ask you that after turning you down. You shouldn't have led me to believe you would and then cut me off like that. But you had every reason to leave," she told him. "Will you please stop worrying about Papi?"
"Fine. But I'm still getting him that grill," he maintained.
"He does need a new one . . . But he's so stubborn I don't think he'll ever give up the one he has – even though it's impossible to fix," Betty told him.
"Which is why I'm going to be the one to give it to him and not you. He can't refuse a gift or complain about it if it's from me, right?" he reasoned.
"True," she contemplated. "Okay, but it has to be a charcoal one. I don't trust Papi not to blow himself up with a gas one. He's an amazing cook, but gas grills scare me."
"Deal," Daniel agreed. "So I guess we'd better get ready. It's almost noon."
"Awww . . . Do we have to? It's so comfy here," she pouted, snuggling even closer to her fiancé and running her hand along his bare chest.
"I know. I don't wanna move either," he gently kissed her temple. "You know what? We don't have to. We can order pizza."
"And pasta – ooh and those garlic knots!" Betty perked up.
"And I was thinking I'd better get in all the kissing I can before those garlic knots arrive," he flirted.
"Daniel . . ." she half-heartedly protested.
"Yeah?" he responded.
"Shut up," Betty told him.
He grinned and slowly teased her bottom lip, then her top, before deepening the kiss. It was better than before. There was no doubt of being together, no reason to stop; it was only the two of them. Their future together was just beginning and it felt right this time. They got so caught up in each other that they forgot they hadn't ordered the food yet.
"Mmm . . . babe . . . did you order the food or did I?" Betty asked between kisses.
"I thought you did, baby," he mumbled as his lips traveled down her neck.
"Uh-oh . . ." she said, pushing him off and climbing over him in order to reach for her phone on the nightstand.
"Betty, is it really that important?" Daniel whined.
"Daniel, as much as I enjoy doing this with you," she teased his bottom lip. "I'm starving."
She found the number and called in their order. Daniel groaned. After she hung up, he grabbed her from behind and pulled her on top of him, with her giggling the whole time.
"So this is how it's gonna be, huh? Food before sex?" he flirted, kissing her neck.
"Who said anything about sex?" she countered, turning over and straddling him.
"How else do you expect us to have four kids?" he teased.
"Do you want the truth?" she asked.
"I had the whole sex talk a long time ago, Betty. I know exactly how babies are made," he joked.
"Daniel, I'm serious," she scolded. "I'm scared. I never really thought about it before, but now that you brought it up it suddenly hit me . . . This is six years' worth of build-up. What if we're not compatible? What if I'm not as good as you're used to?"
"Baby, how could you ever think that? And the same could be said for me. What if it's not as good for you as it was in your head?" he countered.
"Daniel, you know that would never happen – you were New York's most eligible bachelor for years. You have a reputation for being unbelievably good in bed," she argued as she kissed his abs and moved her way up to his lips.
"I still don't think we'll have any problems. Life wouldn't be that cruel," he joked, reciprocating her kiss with another as he rolled them both over.
"And if you're wrong?" she challenged.
"Then we'll live with just making-out and cuddling. And we can always adopt . . ." he joked.
"Are you listening to yourself? Daniel Meade not having sex for the rest of his life? You're adorable. Completely delusional, but incredibly adorable," she laughed.
"I'm serious, Betty," he assured her. "Nothing is going to stop me from being with you – not after all we've been through. And besides, it's not like I haven't lived without sex before."
Betty gave him her incredulous, all-judging butterfly look.
"Hey, it's true," he defended. "I'm a changed man."
"You mean after Molly?" she assumed.
"Well, yeah. But before you and after you, too," he revealed.
"So Trista?" she asked, always assuming Daniel had slept with her, since he usually slept with everyone he dated after at least the second date, if not the first.
"She made me dumb, but not that dumb," he joked. "Maggie was my first, actually . . ."
"How long were you together?" she asked.
"Almost a year. Honestly, the only way I got through it sometimes was to picture you instead.
Betty instantly turned red in the face and felt like hiding. Some girls would be flattered, but she was embarrassed beyond belief to be a part of Daniel's sexual fantasies while he was with another woman.
"Hey . . . you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she nodded timidly.
"I thought you'd be happy you're the only woman I've really thought about for six years," he defended.
"I am . . . it's just I feel a little cheap being thought of like that . . . like some centerfold or something – not that I'm that beautiful . . ." she trailed off.
"You're more beautiful, Betty. And I pictured you because I loved you and I wanted to be with you. You weren't just a pretty face with a sexy body – you were that and so much more," he explained.
"Thank you. That makes me feel a little better," she said. "But how could you stay with someone you could barely stand to have sex with? How could you think about marrying her?"
"I don't know, I guess I figured Maggie was the closest I would ever get to having you again, so I was willing to settle," he admitted. "Why don't we concentrate on us, right now, instead of trying to compete with our pasts?"
"Okay," she agreed as the doorbell rang.
Daniel got up, put on a t-shirt, and paid for their food. Betty followed and waited in the kitchen to check and make sure everything was all there.
"Alright, Margherita with extra cheese, pasta, and garlic knots – it's all here. Except the forks and napkins – they forgot those," she said and headed for the utensil drawer.
"Later," Daniel told her.
"What do you mean? We can't exactly eat linguini marinara with our fingers. And the last time we had Spinelli's you got sauce all over my couch cushion because you claimed you didn't need a napkin," she recalled.
"It came out, didn't it?" he argued, pointing to the scene of the crime.
"Actually, no it didn't," Betty remarked walking over to the couch and revealing the other side of the cushion, still stained with tomato sauce.
"Then we're even," he playfully smirked. "My comforter still smells like maple syrup. I had to throw it out."
"Sorry," she apologized.
"Food wasn't what I had in mind right now, anyway. It still has to cool off, right?" he assumed.
"Yeah . . ." she agreed, not seeing where he was going.
"So I thought maybe there might be a way we could pass the time . . ." he suggested, leading her up the stairs.
"Daniel, are you sure? This is a big step for us – monumental," she stalled on the landing. "And look at me; I'm still in my bunny slippers and your Harvard t-shirt."
"So am I - well not the bunny slippers . . . the point is, I don't care, Betty," he assured her. "I love you and I want this – I want you. I don't care what you're wearing because you look sexy in anything – especially in my t-shirt."
"Daniel . . ." Betty gave him a skeptical look.
"Betty, I'm serious. I love seeing you in the morning or at night before you go to sleep – no makeup, casual clothes – just you. And I love that you feel comfortable enough around me to show that side of you," Daniel replied. "Y-You look amazing."
"Thanks . . . You know, I bet our food's cooled down by now," she attempted to stall again.
"I don't care. C'mere," Daniel told her, leading her to their bedroom.
"A-Are you sure about this Daniel? This could change everything," she warned.
"I'm counting on it," he assured her, backing onto the bed with her. "It's you and me, baby. Nothing bad could ever happen – I promise."
Betty timidly nodded and they began to make love for the first time.
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"So, um, that happened . . ." Daniel said, uncomfortably.
"Daniel, it's okay," Betty assured him.
"Betty, I'm so sorry! It wasn't you - I swear. Shit! I don't know why this is happening!" he groaned, frustrated and humiliated, and couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.
Betty kept telling herself to believe him – that it really wasn't her. But what if it was? What if she didn't do it for him – not completely, anyway? It didn't matter right now, though. What mattered was building up Daniel's confidence. She couldn't let him think that everything was a complete disaster, because it wasn't. Up until that point it had been amazing.
"Babe, look at me," she gently cupped his face and forced him to listen to her. "For me, what we did do was beyond satisfying. I've never had . . . you know . . . from that – much less multiple you knows. Actually I've never had but maybe a couple . . . you knows, period. So don't worry about what happened after. I can die a happy girl."
Daniel shyly smiled at her.
"I'm glad you weren't going all Meg Ryan on me. That helps, thanks . . . I-I guess you're not the only one who was a little self-conscious about everything," Daniel confessed, taking hold of her hand. "I wanted to hide it to make you feel better, but obviously there was a part of me I couldn't control that told the truth. You're the one, Betty. There's no one else I'll ever want to be with. And honestly, there are times when I'm terrified I won't be good enough for you – either in bed or just life in general."
"Daniel, why didn't you tell me? I would have understood. And you don't ever have to be afraid of not being good enough. You are so much more than that. Do you honestly think I would be marrying you if I didn't completely love and admire you? You are a kind, loving, intelligent, successful, talented, sexy man who never fails to make even my crappiest day better simply by being in the same room. I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. Besides, I already know all of your faults and I've always loved you anyway, right?" she teased.
Daniel fought a smile, but lost.
"Maybe we should relax and not think about what we're scared of? Let's eat and try again when you feel like it?" Betty suggested, absently tracing the outlines of his chest. "There's no rushing this. We have our whole lives. I'm never leaving you, Daniel – you're it for me, too."
Daniel somberly nodded.
"I love you no matter what, babe," Betty promised and lovingly kissed his lips. "I'll go get the food. Why don't you pick out something for us to watch?"
"K," he agreed and turned on the TV, solemnly searching through the streaming service.
Betty put on her robe and glanced at him once more before she left the room, worried about him. This was one of the things he'd never failed to be extremely successful at – at least that she knew of. She hated seeing him like this.
