“But how will other parents buy things for their babies if you own everything?” I move to a pale gray rocker recliner and casually sift through a few bags, finding blankets, onesies, bottles, a few toys. I think there is a baby tub over in the corner, behind a giant stuffed elephant.
“That’s where you come in. I was hoping you could help me weed out what was not needed, and then I can donate it to the shelter or even the NICU at the hospital if they could use any of it.”
I smile at him, his heart so big. “We’ll see what we got, there are always some parents that can use a hand…or breast shield?” I hold up the brand-new shield in confusion. “Something you wanna tell me about your mammary glands?”
He laughs awkwardly, then rips the package out of my hand, throwing it somewhere unseen. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to discuss such matters on our first outing.” His flush of embarrassment is endearing.
I stand up, closing the distance between us, gently placing my hands on his stubbled cheeks. The heat from his skin scalds me in the best way. “Do you think it would be appropriate for you to kiss me on our first outing?” Fake it till you make it, that’s my motto. My knees are shaking at my brazen request, but I can’t feel bad about it. It may be surprising to know, but I have never been kissed before. I have been waiting…for someone special, someone worthy. As I meet Garrett’s fiery gaze, hearing him audibly swallow at the prospect, I can’t imagine anyone being more worthy of my first kiss.
His big hands start at my shoulders, gripping me firmly but gently, as he glides down my arms to clutch my hands in his. “I have thought of little else than what your lips would feel like against mine, b’shert. I just want to talk a bit more if that is alright with you. I…don’t think I would be able to stop kissing you once I start.”
My heart races in my chest, disappointed that I have to wait for my kiss, grateful that he feels the need to take things slow with me, and excited for what’s to come. “You’re a good man, Garrett Havlin.”
“I try to be. Let’s sit down in the living room. Would you like something to drink?” He releases one of my hands, walking me out to the couch and seeing me settled before moving to the kitchen.
“Do you have soda or lemonade?”
“I have pop.” He gives me a mock-glare from over the kitchen counter. “Water, pink lemonade, and milk.”
“Such a shame you don’t have any soda.” I pout. “Pink lemonade sounds great, thank you.” This area is decorated with comfortable couches, a recliner that could sit two, the requisite man-sized television, and candid photos hung on the walls and dotting the surfaces of his entertainment center. There are a few other knick-knacks, or tchotchkes as my Uncle Wes says. It feels homey and lived in, comfortable.
“Here you are.” Garrett sets our drinks on the coffee table in front of us. He hesitates a moment, then drapes his arm across my shoulders, nestling me into his side. I pull my feet under me and melt into his solid warmth.
“So, what kind of info do you need to know so I can get my kiss?” I joke, enjoying the rumble of his laughter through his chest.
“It’s not a quid pro quo.”
“Is it not, Clarice?” I ask in my best Hannibal Lecter impression. Which means I just deepen my voice and attempt to sound cultured. “I’m just kidding, Gar, there has never been a subject I wanted to binge study more than you.”
I smile into his chest when I feel his lips touch the top of my head and he inhales my hair.
“I probably would have enjoyed college more if I could study you rather than Global Marketing Techniques and Advanced Topics for Managerial Economics.”
“Uh. Probably not. How old are you?”
“33.”
“I was like 10 when you were in college. I’m only a year or so older than Benji.”
“Right. Do you need to take a nap, I have a brand-new crib you could use, since I can’t find the cradle I robbed to find you?”
“Don’t think of it as cradle robbing, think of yourself as a well-aged cheese.” I tip my head up to meet his eyes, crinkled from laughter. “I like me some cheese.” I husk out, much to his amusement.
“Good to know. Based on your intake at lunch, I’m guessing there isn’t much you don’t like.”
“Kale. Quinoa. A good rule of thumb for me, if a rabbit would eat it, I probably won’t, unless its smothered in ranch dressing, cheese and cooked meat of the chicken or beef variety.”
“Ok, I know you are a nurse, 22 years old, the most beautiful, sensual, hungry woman I ever encountered, and you smell amazing.” I giggle as he snorts behind my ear. “You have a big family, a well-respected daddio, and an open heart. What else should I know.”
“Don’t forget I experience menses once a month.” I slap a hand over my mouth. I don’t think I meant to say that. I need to ease him into my unfiltered ramblings.
“Yes. That has been noted.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, we might as well get all the salacious info out of the way.” I sit up, facing him, crisscross applesauce and decide to own it like Uncle Silas says. “I don’t shy away from bodily functions, my own or anyone else’s. I’m loud, sarcastic—”
“Caring, driven.” He interrupts and I can’t stop myself from taking his hand in mine to hold.
“Yes, I’m overall very fabulous. I have gay uncles, sexually explicit aunts, I have never had a boyfriend and never been kissed. I want a large family with a husband who is as devoted to me as I am to
