by S. L. Scott
“Today is two years to the day that I first laid eyes on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As her tears escape her eyes, she sniffles. I cup her face and run the pads of my thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. I want to say so much to her. I want to tell her everything I dream of in life, but she knows all that. I want her to know that I want her to be a permanent part of my life. But instead, I kiss her as passionately as I can, needing to show her how much I love her and how much I care.
I grab the bag and take her to the other side of the main library entrance.
“Where are we going now?” she asks and I can hear the excitement in her voice.
“Do you trust me?”
“Why would I not?” She smiles.
“Just checking.” From the moment I kissed her after the book signing, she never held back, even at the threat to her own heart.
I lift her by the waist and set her at the base of the Truth fountain just north of the library entrance. I pull the ring out of my pocket and kneel down in front of her. After a large and rather uncomfortable gulp, I say, “Charlotte Barrow, I was attracted to you the moment I saw you on the subway. I liked you the minute we started talking at the club. But I fell in love with you the day you took a chance and went to my great-aunt’s funeral with me.”
She hops down from the ledge and comes to me. “Stand, please, Charlie. I need you to hold me.”
“But tradition?”
“Screw tradition. Nothing we have ever done has been traditional. Why start now?”
I stand, and she throws herself into my arms. With her face tucked against me, she exclaims, “Yes! Yes, yes, a million yeses!”
I can’t stop the laugh that erupts. “I haven’t asked you yet!”
“I don’t care,” she says, leaning back and grabbing my face. A kiss, two more, and a smile. “I want to marry you. I want to share the rest of my life with you. I want to make babies with you. I want everything with you, but I would be fine with nothing else as long as I have you.”
She’s never been one to desire money. “You’ll have everything you ever need and more, baby. I promise you that.” She’s crying. I kiss her forehead and hug her to me. “Will you marry me, Charlie?” I whisper into her ear, nuzzling in her hair.
She nods against my neck, struggling to speak as she cries. “I will. Thank you.”
I lean back, amused by her answer. “Are you thanking me for asking you to marry me?”
She laughs as she wipes her tears away. “Yes, I guess I am.”
Grinning ear to ear and feeling a bit teary-eyed myself, I slip the ring onto her finger. I worried while shopping that I would buy a ring that she would think was too showy or too plain. I needed to find balance. I thanked Jim for the inspiration on this one. Seeing that ring at the auction told me that I could buy a ring that was as classic and beautiful as she was. It wasn’t about being the biggest or the flashiest one out there. It would be a ring that she loves, not one to impress others. His loss was definitely my gain and I’ll be forever grateful for their breakup, which led to her being in my life.
“I love it. It’s perfect,” she says, then kisses me. She’s right. The delicate band of diamonds is perfect on her finger.
We spend the rest of the lunch hour eating, laughing, and loving.
“You have the rest of the day off if you want it, but I know how important that consignment is to you.”
“This is real. What we are, this is life, our life, and it’s the most important thing to me. It’s way more important than some old stuff that will still be there tomorrow.”
When I finish reminiscing, one of the other teachers has arrived to take over the painting class for me, and I walk through the gardens to the office to finish some paperwork. It’s a beautiful day, and it’s times like these that I think of my great-aunt, and what an inspiration she was in my life. She would have loved how we spent the money. She would have loved Charlie even more. I wish they could have met. Although both Charlie and Grace have told me never to live in regret, all of those regrets led us to where we are now, and this life makes me smile.
Just over an hour later, Charlie calls from the front, “You ready?”
I shut down my computer and meet her at the door. Grinning, I grab her by the hand and pull her to me. Locking her body within my arms, I stare down into her bright blue eyes. We still play the same games we did before we were married. When her arms tighten around me just as strong, I say, teasing, “You still can’t resist me.”
“I can totally resist you,” she says defiantly. “And you will not make me blush.”
“Wanna bet?”
She gulps, her smile falters, and she challenges. “I dare you.”
My lips are on hers before she has a chance to finish the phrase. I slide one hand up her back and the other into her hair as I press closer and deepen the kiss. As soon as I feel her body losing tension, I know I’ll win this bet.
Three.
Two.
One.
My arms tighten as she gives in, her body putty in my hands. I love that I make her feel this way—needy, cherished, and beautiful. I lean back so I can see her face. Her cheeks are all pink and a bit flustered.
“Don’t even say it. I can feel it,” she says, smirking as she places one hand on her face.
Our arms drop down, but we remain holding hands.
“I wasn’t going to say a thing,” I reply, beaming over my skills.
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. That haughty smile across your face says more than enough.”
“Hottie? Did you just call me a hottie?”
“Haughty . . . wait, hottie? Let’s just skip the semantics and get to the good stuff.”
I bump her side playfully. “The semantics with you are the good stuff.”
She faces me, stepping as close as she can until our bodies are flush. Wrapping her arms around my neck, her expression softens, and I can see the love in her eyes. “You’re absolutely right. I love every semantical bet we have, and I love you. I always did, deep down, and I always will. Now, take me home and show me how much you love me.”
I call her made-up words Charlie-isms, and still find them adorable, just like her. “We have to wait until we get home?” I tease her by pressing myself firmly against her.
“Well, well.” Her cheeks redden as she looks around. “In that case, I think we should take a cab instead of the subway. It’s faster.” After hailing a taxi, we hop in the back. She winks at me then squeezes my thigh.
I lean in really close to her ear and say, “You keep teasing me like that, and I don’t think I’ll be able to control my urges.”
“Urges. I like that word.”
“It’s a solid word, just like me.”
“That is true. You are a solid guy.” She places her hand in my lap, but plays coy for the driver’s sake. Turning in the seat, she drapes her legs over mine. Pressing her lips to my cheek, she kisses her way to my ear and whispers, “I can’t wait to feel how solid you really are.”
“You’re a little minx, Mrs. Adams.”
“Oh, Mr. Adams, doth thou protest my wanton ways?”
“Protest? Never.” I adjust beneath her, not finding any relief in the way she so blatantly taunts me with her “wanton ways.”
The car pulls to the curb, and I toss a fifty over the front seat, eager to get my wife to bed. We barely have the apartment door closed before I have her pressed against the back of it. My hands tug at her sweater, and she pulls my shirt over my head. Our lips remain locked together until we have to part to rid ourselves of our clothes.
Stripped to our underwear, we stop, trying to catch our breath. I take the time to slow things down and admire her body with my eyes, hands, and my mouth. I hear her head bump as it drops back onto the heavy wood of the door. Lowering to my knees, I take the straps of her bra with me and unclasp it in the back. Her panties are next, which she steps out of and I toss behind me. Rising back up, I kiss
her neck and that ticklish spot of hers just behind her ear. I make my way down her body, leaving a trail of goose bumps in my wake.
My tongue slides down the curve of her waist and across her stomach where I kiss her belly button and then move lower. Her hands secure themselves into my hair as I make love to her amazing body with my mouth.
It’s not long before I feel her shivering under my touch, and I stand. “Let’s move to the bedroom,” I whisper against her lips.
My whole body is pulsing in anticipation as we walk to our bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she parts her legs, and I adjust between them. Pulling down my boxer briefs, she kisses my body, causing me to moan. She scoots back onto the bed as I crawl over her, settling comfortably between her legs.
“Love me,” she whispers, weaving her fingers into my hair and pulling me down to her.
“Always. I’ll always love you,” I reply honestly. I kiss her with all of my love while pushing into her warm and welcoming body.
Making love to her is unlike any experience I’ve ever had. I make love to her with my soul as much as my body, giving her all of me. She returns every emotion she feels for me within each movement and sound. Every time we’re connected this way, I’m reminded of how fortunate we are to have found each other.
One month later, I’m chasing her through a field of giant sunflowers. Her voice is music that floats in the wind, a melody of laughter and sweetness to my ears. After we exit the field near the farmhouse, she drops down onto the green grass, spreading her arms and legs out, relaxed and beautiful.
I collapse next her and stare up at the wide blue skies while trying to regain my breath.
“Kansas is just as wonderful as you are, Charlie,” she says, the happiness in her tone is heard in every word. “Tell me about the adventures you had here.”
“I was an only child, so I daydreamed a lot. When I was here, the fields were never-ending, the flowers seemed taller, and my imagination was boundless.”
I turn to look at her. Her eyes are closed, her face shadowed by her hat. The sun is starting to set, and although I know we should go inside and think about dinner, I don’t want this carefree joy to end.
She suddenly stands and moves to block the sun from my eyes. All I see is an angel in a white dress and a Mets cap with a sun halo. The silhouette of her body, two curving lines from the top of her head down her sides to her feet, can be seen. “That dress is see-through, you know.” I tilt my head and admire her body.
“Is there a problem with that?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “No problem here.”
She looks over her shoulder toward the flowers, and with her body turned to the side, I can see the silhouette of her little baby bump. Four months along.
But I also notice other things. I sit up, resting back on my hands. “Are you wearing panties under there?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I have my ways of finding out.”
She hikes her skirt up and straddles my lap. “I just bet you do.”
“How much?”
She purses her lips and squints while looking up in contemplation. “I’ll bet the farm on it.”
“You’re willing to gamble this place?”
“I am. It’s kind of a win-win here. Even if I lose, you win, which technically means I win, too.”
“I love those crazy thoughts of yours.”
“Is that all you love?” She waggles her eyebrows at me.
I hold her in place as I lie back down. “I love everything about you. But, let’s get to the important part. You can’t get enough of me, can you?”
That makes her laugh as the breeze blows around us. “Never, but I’m woman enough to admit it.”
“You’re all woman, all right,” I say, carefully rolling on top of her.
“We should go inside, Mr. Smuggy.”
“You love my smugginess.”
“Smugginess isn’t a word.”
“Wanna bet?”
“I think this is how we got into this mess in the first place,” she says, squirming beneath me to tease.
“If by mess you mean love, then it’s absolutely how we fell in . . . mess.”
She laughs as she playfully pulls me even closer. “Less talking and more kissing.”
I listen to the woman. She’s very smart.
The End.