Marriage For One

by Maise, Ella

  She worried her lips between her teeth and nodded. “You’re right, I should eat something. Just give me a minute so I can do something about my nose.”

  Turning around in her socks with a whoosh, she hurried away to the bathroom.

  When she came back with a cotton ball in her nose, she sat down on the chair, and I helped her get closer to the table.

  I took my seat across from her and reached for her plate, only to have her grasp it midair.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to wrestle the plate away from you.” I gave her plate a gentle tug and she let it go. “Tonight, you get to be spoiled.”

  Finally the smile that touched her lips was genuine. “Pity night, huh?”

  I shrugged. I wouldn’t have called it that, but if she wanted to think of it in those terms, keeping my mouth shut would be a better option. I reached for the big serving dish and started to pile spaghetti onto her plate.

  Rose leaned forward and reached for my hand, placing her fingers on my wrist when I was about to go in for more spaghetti. A small smile was blooming on her face. “I think that’s more than enough for me, don’t you think?”

  I took another look at her plate and decided it would do. I could always sneak more onto her plate when she was done. I let go of the spaghetti spoon and reached for the Bolognese sauce. She tried to stop me after the second spoonful, but I sneaked another one in.

  When I lifted my eyes, she was smiling at me. It was a lot closer to what her usual smile looked like, so I started to relax.

  “Fresh thyme?”

  Her grin got bigger, and she nodded again.

  “I like this side of you.”

  “Which side?” I asked distractedly.

  “This domestic side. It suits you.”

  When her plate was ready, I handed it to her, and she had to hold it with two hands before she could put it down in front of her. Leaning over the food, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “This smells amazing. You were right, I’m starving.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her even as I grabbed my own plate and started the same process.

  “I’m always right.”

  She arched her eyebrows at me, her grin turning more playful. “Easy there. I wouldn’t say always.”

  “I would. Come on, time is ticking. Start eating.”

  “You are always bossy, though—that’s definitely true.”

  After giving her a pointed stare, I waited for her to start, and she took her time, getting more comfortable in her chair and then finally started eating.

  After chewing for a few seconds, she closed her eyes and groaned before finally swallowing. Satisfied that she would keep eating, I started on my own.

  “Where did you get this from? It’s incredible.”

  “Glad you like it.”

  “Is it a secret place? God! This is so good, Jack!”

  I kept chewing and then swallowed under her expectant gaze.

  “I made it. It’s not takeout.”

  She stopped with her fork a few inches away from her mouth and lowered it. “You cook?”

  “Sometimes, if I have the time.”

  That earned another beautiful smile, and I decided I would always cook for her on Mondays, pasta or whatever she wanted.

  “You’re amazing.” She had started chewing but stopped. “Meaning, this is amazing—the pasta.”

  “I’ll cook on Mondays.”

  She swallowed, hard. “You cook on Mondays?”

  I shook my head and reached for my water glass. “No, I’ll start cooking for us on Mondays. I enjoy spending time in the kitchen.”

  “Can I watch it? Next Monday? Or do you not like company? Oh, and of course if the surgery goes well and—”

  My eyes met hers. “You don’t want to finish that sentence. I don’t like company, but I like you. You can watch.”

  “Jack I believe we’re flirting.”

  I grunted.

  “Every Monday, promise?”

  I looked into her eyes. “Whenever you want, Rose.”

  “Then I should pick a day to cook, too.”

  We continued eating.

  “If your cooking is as good as your baking, I’ll be there.”

  “I enjoy cooking when it’s not just for me. Are Mondays gonna be pasta day?”

  “Do you want to make it pasta day?”

  She smiled, her head bobbing up and down. “I think I’d like that. It’ll be our first tradition.”

  Her tone of voice had changed with her last words, so I looked up from my plate to find her smiling at me. My night was already made.

  “Pasta day it is then.”

  “So, tomorrow—”

  “Nope. I don’t want to talk about tomorrow tonight, if that’s okay.” Slowly she put down her fork and steadied her eyes on me. “I’m completely aware that I’m being a complete—let me correct that, I have been a complete diva about this whole sickness thing. I’m also well aware that compared to some illnesses, this is nothing, but my issue is that I’m simply scared. It’s too close to my brain for my liking and it’s really bothering me. I don’t like that I’ll be under anesthesia and I won’t know what’s going on, not that I would want to know or want to be awake even if that was an option… I’m especially grateful that it’s going to be endoscopic surgery instead of cracking open my skull like they used to do back in the day, because that would probably kill me, but…I’m still scared. I told you, I’m afraid of giving blood, so a surgery…” She shook her head vehemently. “And the timing couldn’t have been worse.”

  I parted my lips, but she stopped me from saying what was on my mind.

  “Like I said, tonight I want to act like tomorrow will be just another normal day. I just want to enjoy this amazing dinner you very sneakily cooked for us and then try to see what else I can milk out of my situation. I’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”

  “We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow,” I corrected her, and received a nod in response. “What else did you want to milk out of your situation?” I asked, trying to look only mildly curious. I already knew I would do whatever it was she wanted to do.

  Her smile came back in full force. “I thought you’d never ask. So…” She scooted forward in her seat, rolling spaghetti onto her fork, eyes on mine. “Remember how you said you’d never watched You’ve Got Mail? I thought a cozy movie would be perfect for tonight. It’s not a wishy-washy film either. I promise you won’t be bored. Any movie that has Tom Hanks in it is amazing, and his on-screen chemistry with Meg Ryan is absolutely perfect. I’m sure you—”

  “Okay,” I agreed, keeping my hands flat on the table and my eyes on her.

  “We can watch it?”

  “I said okay, didn’t I?”

  Her laughter took me by surprise, but I wasn’t against it.

  “Happy?” I asked, smiling back at her.

  Her gaze dropped to my lips. “Yes, Jack. Very. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now stop talking and keep eating.”

  She had a big smile the entire time she chattered and pulled me into conversation after conversation during dinner. As good as I was at not showing what I was thinking or feeling, I wasn’t sure if I did a good job that night. I was too worried about what the next day would bring and what I would do if something happened to her when she was out of my reach.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jack

  We got up from the dining table around seven-thirty PM. It had been one of the longest dinners I’d ever had, but since Rose looked happy, I didn’t and couldn’t have complained. She insisted on getting all the dishes in the dishwasher, and I kept her company until she was done. Her smile never wavered, and it made me happy to see it.

  I prepared her some tea and made myself a cup of coffee. I had bought her some truffles on Friday because I knew her weakness for chocolate but hadn’t ended up finding the right moment to give them to her, so I took the elegant box
with me and set everything up on the coffee table.

  I found the Apple TV remote and started to search for the movie she was talking about. When I came upon it, I charged it to my account and pressed play.

  “Wait, wait.” Rose jumped up and ran over to get the lights. “That’s better.”

  She came back, sat down, and immediately pulled her legs under her as she reached for the big knitted blanket she had brought down from her room. I handed her the tea mug.

  She grabbed my wrist with her right one and tugged me down next to her. “It’s starting, sit down.”

  I managed to reach for my own coffee mug and her box of truffles.

  Feeling a little uncomfortable about it, I thrust the box into her hand and leaned back against the couch. When she glanced at me in confusion, I focused on the movie that had just begun and took a sip of my coffee.

  “What is this?” Balancing her mug on the flat surface of the couch, she sent me a quick look then started opening it. “Chocolate? For me?” she asked, her voice high.

  “A client brought it on Friday, and it was just sitting in the office so I thought you might want it.” The lie rolled off my lips so easily, I surprised even myself.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could already see her taking a bite out of one of them. “You want one?” she asked when she was done driving me crazy and moaning about it. She held the box toward me. “Don’t you like truffles? Come on, take one.”

  I gave her an exasperated look and took one, holding it in my hand. “Will you let me watch this movie or are you going to talk the entire time?”

  She winced. “You’re one of those. Be prepared for me to talk. I’ll keep pointing things out you can already see for yourself. I’m just excited because you’ve never seen it. Is it past nine?”

  I kept my eyes on the screen as Meg Ryan’s character started running toward her laptop to check her email. “Not yet. I’ll tell you when you need to stop. It’s only eight.”

  We sat in silence and just watched the movie. Around the ten-minute mark, Meg Ryan finally made it to her shop. The Shop Around the Corner.

  I slung my arm across the back of the couch, toward her.

  A few minutes later, I glanced at her. The box containing the truffles looked like it had six missing ones, and she was still holding the tea mug tightly in her hands as if trying to warm them.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Just a little. Would you like to share?” she repeated, and my brows drew together.

  Then I realized she was holding the edge of the blanket up and away from herself.

  It wasn’t cold—the apartment was plenty warm—but I took the opportunity to move a little closer to her, and she put it over my legs. When she leaned her head back, it was almost resting in the crook of my arm.

  She took a deep breath and let it all out.

  Her voice was quiet when she spoke up again. “Thank you for tonight, Jack.”

  Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re very welcome, Rose.”

  At ten to nine, I took her now cold tea mug away from her and put it down on the coffee table. A little more than halfway into the movie, she’d fallen asleep, and her head had dropped on my shoulder. I watched the movie till the end without moving an inch so she could rest. The more she tucked herself closer, the harder it had been for me to not wake her up and take her mouth. It seemed like she had invaded the entire apartment and I could smell nothing but her.

  I enjoyed every second of it, both the movie and Rose’s warm body against mine.

  Scooping her up into my arms, I straightened up, letting the blanket fall off of her.

  She started coming around once we were halfway up the stairs.

  “Jack?” Her hands tightened around my neck. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

  “A little past ten.”

  Sighing, she rested her head on my shoulder.

  “Did you like the movie?”

  I didn’t have to lie. “Yes, you were right, it was good.”

  “They don’t make movies like that anymore,” she murmured.

  I opened the door to her room and walked in, gently putting her down on the bed. She curled up on her side and I pulled the already open covers over her.

  “Good night, Jack,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll wake you up at six-thirty. We need to be at the hospital at seven-thirty.”

  “Okay.”

  I was rooted to my spot but didn’t know what else to say that would allow me to stay with her longer, to spend this night, at least this night with her.

  “Good night, Rose.” I leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead and then her lips. It was such a natural move for me that I didn’t even hesitate. She closed her eyes with a smile on her lips. I was pretty sure she had never woken up fully.

  My mind on her, I walked out and headed to my own room.

  Later that same night, hours had passed and I was still wide awake. My mind was running in all directions, but it was especially running in the direction of where Rose was sleeping a few doors down, which was why I was surprised when my phone pinged with a new text.

  Rose: Are you asleep?

  Jack: No.

  Rose: Me neither.

  I took a deep breath, ran my hand over my face.

  Jack: Everything okay?

  Rose: Yes. Just can’t sleep.

  Rose: Why are you still up?

  Jack: Couldn’t sleep either.

  Rose: Can I still milk my situation or did I miss my chance?

  Jack: Depends on what you want.

  Rose: It’s a weird one.

  Jack: Try me.

  Rose: I was wondering if I could kiss you.

  Rose: And before you say no, it doesn’t have to mean anything but that, just a kiss. The truth is you’ve slowly become this adept kisser and I think I wouldn’t mind kissing you right now. I’d like to call it a pity kiss. If that’s not okay since no one would be around to see it, I understand that.

  The dots were still dancing around, but I left my phone on my nightstand and walked away. I chose not to knock and just walked into her room.

  She seemed to be still typing but stopped when she saw me. Clearing her throat, she got up to her knees to get out of bed, but I made it to her before she could.

  “How do you want to do thi—”

  I didn’t give her time to finish her sentence. In the next breath, I was holding her head in my hands after having pushed her hair back. Her cheeks were warm and slightly wet.

  “I don’t want you to cry anymore,” I muttered with a tinge of anger coloring my voice. That was the last thing I wanted for her. “I’ll kiss you, but only if you promise not to cry anymore. I can’t take it, Rose.”

  She nodded.

  I lowered my head down to hers, parted her lips with mine, and watched her eyes as they closed the second our lips touched. She placed her hands over mine on her cheeks and tilted her head up, deepening the kiss. I slowly dropped to my knees on the bed, tightened my hands around her face, plunging my fingers into her hair as her arms moved between us to wrap around my neck. I pulled her tongue into my mouth and happily swallowed her quiet groan.

  If I had to describe our kiss, I would say it was a gentle violence. I couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. I let one of my hands travel down her back, memorizing every inch and how her body dipped at her waist. When I had a good grip on her shirt, I pulled her flush against me. She grunted but didn’t stop, didn’t ask me to stop.

  I could feel her chest rising and falling against mine, her heat burning me up already. I fisted her shirt in my hand and deepened the kiss, forcing her to arch her back at the same time, gripping her waist tightly with my other hand. Her head dipped back with the force of my kiss, her tongue playing with mine.

  Then her hands were braced on my chest and I felt a slight push.

  I managed to wrench myself away, and she quickly jumped out of my arms
and the bed, running straight to the bathroom.

  My whole body was wound up tight. I sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped my head into my hands. My breathing was heavy, my heart beating in my throat like a teenager making out with his girlfriend in her house.

  While I was contemplating getting up and leaving or staying, Rose re-emerged from the bathroom, her face flushed, lips red and swollen, hair all messed up.

  She looked perfect.

  She slowly made her way back, stopping in front of me when her knees were almost touching mine.

  I didn’t want to apologize for pouncing on her like a beast, but I had completely forgotten she was ill.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, her voice thick. Her index finger tapped the side of her nose. “It was starting up again so I had to…”

  I sighed a breath of relief and nodded. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and was about to get up to leave, but Rose put both her hands on my shoulders and climbed into my lap, not sitting, but she had put one of her legs between mine and was standing on her knees. My hands found purchase on her hips and I held her still.

  “What are you doing?” I asked in a harsh whisper as I stared into her alluring eyes.

  She smiled down at me. “I’m getting the rest of my pity kiss,” she whispered back in a low and steady voice, much steadier than mine, to my surprise. “I’m not done with you yet.” Her hands smoothed my hair back as her eyes closed on their own and her head descended.

  I met her halfway and took her mouth in a deep and scalding kiss, giving her needy laps of my tongue as her fingers combed through my hair and she gripped my neck to hold me up to herself. I kissed her like that for a long time, trying to be gentler and more considerate than I was feeling, but she disarmed me. Her taste, her little moans, her hands tightening on my neck, her body moving restlessly against mine—everything about her disarmed me.

  When she moved her lips to the right and tried to breathe against my cheek, I watched all the emotions playing on her face. Knowing I couldn’t stop, I held her waist and gave her a tug so she would sit down. Her eyes opened and found mine. Moving her leg to straddle me, she wordlessly followed my lead, sitting right on my dick. My eyes closed and a groan escaped my lips. When I looked back at her, she was biting her lip, staring at me intently. I rounded my arms around her, letting one of my hands slowly slide up her back to hold her neck, and dove in for another kiss. I kissed her once then pulled back, then again and again and again. It was maddening, the way her lips fit mine.