He leans over and whispers to me while she’s busy. “I don’t care that you have hairy legs.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he says, winking at me.
It makes me feel a little bit better because I really don’t care what anyone else thinks of me. The only person in the world that matters is Raffe.
“Besides, once you start shaving, your hairs grow back all pokey-like. Right now, they’re soft … like a kitten.”
My mama’s eyebrow rises in warning as she slides his cake over to him. “You better be keeping your hands to yourself, boy.”
He doesn’t let it bother him. He’s shifted his focus to his dessert.
Mama pats my hand. “I’ll talk to Dad and see what I can do.”
A week later, my mama hands me an electric razor. “This was the best I could do. He’s worried you’ll cut yourself with a straight edge.”
I hug her tightly around her middle. “Oh Mama, thank you!”
Raffe steps behind me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. He pulls his shirt over his head, and then he grabs the bottom of mine. “Can I help you?” he asks before lifting it.
I nod, frozen in place, unable to speak.
When he slips it over my fingertips, I take a deep breath.
His jeans come next, followed by my skirt. His hands go to my bra, and in one flick it pops open.
I hold it against my breasts before it falls, covering myself.
Raffe’s fingers trail over my arms, my back, and my stomach. He’s being patient, something I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced.
He kisses me lightly on the shoulder, holding my gaze. “Your skin is as soft as I remember.”
His words give me courage, and I finally let the bra fall to the floor, turning around to face him.
He groans, and his eyes fall closed. “I’ve waited a long time for this. I’m having a hard time believing you’re really here with me.”
I take his hand and place it over my heart. “I’m really here, but I think I’m on the verge of having a heart attack,” I joke lightly.
He opens his eyes, staring deep into mine, and he takes my hand with his free one and places it over his chest. “Me too.”
We smile at each other, and I relax. This is Raffe … my Raffe. I don’t have anything to be scared of because I know he’ll always protect my heart.
He walks us over to the shower. “Ready?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“On the count of three,” he says, and it makes me laugh. “One, two, three.”
We both shove our underwear down at the same time.
The two of us awkwardly peek at each other. I don’t know about him, but I like what I see. He’s perfect.
“God, you are beautiful.” He brushes a knuckle over my breast, and I almost double over from the sensation.
He steps into the shower, holding his hand out to help me in. “Is the water good for you?” he asks.
I place my hand under the spray. “It feels heavenly.”
