Part 43 (2/2)
”Just when you were bending over to put on your pants.”
”Oh,” I say, realizing he probably got a full view of my b.u.t.t up in the air.
”The sight of your rear end when I first wake up in the morning is a wonderful thing, half-pint,” he says, grinning, confirming my thoughts.
He pats the bed next to him. ”Come back to bed, Rose.”
I do. I climb under the covers and sit next to him. He grips my waist and pulls me between his legs, then lets me rest my back against his chest, my head against his shoulder.
”Thank you for last night,” he breathes into my ear.
”Thank you. Thank you for making me feel special.”
”You are special, half-pint. Are you going somewhere?”
”No. Why?”
”Because you're dressed.”
”Oh. Well.” I don't know what to say.
”Did I tell you how beautiful you are, Rose?”
He must know why I'm dressed. ”Thank you.”
”And how absolutely heavenly you looked last night?”
My heart pounds at his words.
The backs of his fingers graze the spot just below my ear, and a wave of tingles crashes over my skin from the spot he touches all the way down to my toes. His fingers act like a drug on me. Especially after last night. I can't get enough. I lean my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. This accomplishes what I need him to do. His fingers travel beneath my jaw, down the front of my neck then one of them dips down the crevice between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It's amazing how his touch can transcend me beyond my fears. When he's touching me, I almost forget I'm not a whole person. It's when they stop touching me that I remember.
With both his hands, his fingers continue to journey the center of my body, under my s.h.i.+rt, under the band of my pants, when he says, ”Every single inch of you is more beautiful than the last.” Though his hands are beneath my clothes, he only encircles my stomach area, never dipping below my navel or up over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”Whatever sets you at ease, puts me at ease. You want to stay clothed, or covered, or anything, then that's what I want you to do too. But please know” he talks into my ear, his fingers still navigating my belly- ”that all I see is you. What you see as flaws, I see as something that makes you unique and extraordinary. Rare, Rose. Like a mint-condition 1955 Roberto Clemente rookie card...”
Turning to look at him, I interrupt his comparison. ”A baseball card?” I can't help but crack up. ”You're comparing me to a baseball card?”
”A one-of-a-kind, Rose. Do you know how much it's worth?”
I shake my head in laughter.
”Seriously, Rose.” He cups my chin in his hand. ”You're a rarity. And you chose me. Do you know how much that means to me? One leg, two legs, s.h.i.+t, scars or no scars, all I see is perfection when I look at you, Rose.”
Oh my G.o.d. Really? ”Really?”
”Really. So if the next time we make love you want to stay covered or you don't, that's fine with me. But for the record...your naked body trumps your clothed body any day.”
I close my eyes and let his words sink in. He wraps both his arms around my chest and pulls me back against him. I rest my head on his shoulder again.
”I love you so much, Rose.”
”I love you too. Ben?”
”Yeah?”
”Are you scared?”
”Scared as s.h.i.+t, Rose.”
”I wish I could make it all disappear for you. The cancer, I mean.”
He doesn't respond right away. ”Me too,” he whispers.
”Can I come visit you?”
Again he takes his time answering. ”I'd like you to, but I have no idea what state I'm gonna be in. Will you feel comfortable?”
”No. I'd be upset for you. Scared, kinda...but...I still want to be there. If you want me to.”
His lips find my ear again. He kisses it, then whispers, ”Then please.” He drags out the word. ”Be there. To wake up from surgery to your gorgeous face...it'd be like I'd died and gone to Heaven.”
”Oh, please don't.”
”Never. Not while you're in my life.”
The two of us sit silently like this for a long while after we decide I would be there for his surgery tomorrow. Staying in bed seems to be our version of time standing still - we don't want today to end, so we sit rooted to this spot. On my bed. Ben's arms wrapped firmly around me. My body tucked neatly and comfortably within his.
42.
BEN.
I don't think I ever want to wake up without my arms around Rose again.
It's frightening.
For more than a week now, I've been waking up with Rose tucked safely in my arms.
Even this morning.
Last night, she followed me home to my house in Cherry Hill. I told her she could use my car while I'm laid up, but she insisted she's more comfortable in her big-a.s.s old pick-up truck.
<script>