A guy can dream.
A few minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of the dog park. Pig has her head fully out the window, whimpering at the delay to her fun.
“Calm down, Piggy puppy.” I try soothing our pup by reaching back to scratch her behind, but she only lets out an excited yelp.
“Yeah, yeah.” Luna parks the car, and we unload.
The moment we’re in the fenced enclosure, Pig lumbers off toward a yellow Lab, and the two quickly start up a race aroundthe park. Our short-legged hound has no chance, but she tries her best.
“She’s going to pass out tonight.” Luna makes the observation as she scoops up my hand and pulls me toward a picnic table.
And like Pig, I follow along joyfully, ready to be led wherever she wants to go. We sit side by side on the sun-stained wooden bench, and I relax, trying to ignore the eager thrumming in my veins, encouraging me to tell Luna how deeply I feel about her.
What’s the rush?I reason.
We haven’t even reached her birthday. I’ve got more than a year to work up to telling her I fell in love almost immediately.
What if she doesn’t want a husband in love with her?The worry resounds in my head like the painful note of an untuned guitar string. In that case, I should tell her how I feel so she can end things with me and find another man to marry before she turns thirty.Could I survive the split?
A vulnerability scrapes through me, and I snake my arm around Luna’s waist, pulling her into my side so I can bury my face in her short hair and smell the mandarin shampoo scent I’ll forever associate with happiness.
“I don’t know who’s more affectionate. You or Pig.” Luna laughs through her words, unaware of the worry plaguing my mind.
“Mmm.” I lean back enough to meet her hooded eyes. “What’s going on at work? Have you only been meeting with Violet?”
Luna drags her short nails up and down my forearm, the light scratch teasing my nerve endings. “No, I have multiple clients. Right now, I’m working with ten different people. Some I meet weekly. Some multiple times a week. Some just every couple of weeks. Depends what type of training they need.” Luna’s gaze drifts away from mine, her head turning until she finds Pigwrestling with a husky across the way. The fight is playful, so neither of us moves to act as referee. “I also teach a class at Treyvon’s gym the last Wednesday and Saturday of every month. Open to anyone.”
My fingers press into her side, feeling the hard muscles of her abdomen. My wife is a beast.
“Could I go to one of those classes?”
Luna raises a single sharp eyebrow at me. “You could. But you know we live together, right? Meaning you get my expertise for free.”
“Very true. What would you teach me?”
Luna leans back just a touch further, running her eyes over me in an assessment. My pride wants me to flex the few muscles I have, but I don’t bother. Sounds like she runs in a crowd that could tie me in a pretzel.
“I’d approach training you differently from most of my clients. Most people who come to me are smaller women. They need to know how to grapple. Get their way out of a hold of someone larger. But you’ve got reach.” To demonstrate, Luna circles my wrist with her fingers and extends my arm, which goes a good number of inches past the tips of her fingers. “I’m thinking more evasion. But with you being so tall, we also need to lower your center of gravity. An attacker will try to push you over.”
Luna pokes a playful finger against my stomach, and I puff out a burst of air as if she socked me in the gut.
“But …” I drag the word out, inching closer despite the nonexistent space between us. “What if I want to learn grappling? Maybe roll around on the floor? Get tangled up?”
Luna huffs a laugh as her eyes flare with heat. “We might be able to go over some moves. Tonight. In bed.”
Yes. I don’t say the word because I’m too busy kissing her, which is prematurely interrupted by a sharp bark.
When I break away, breath heavy with desire, I glance over to find our dog staring at us, panting from her own exertions.
“I think she feels ignored,” Luna observes in a dry tone.
“We’re bad parents,” I agree, reluctantly unwrapping myself from Luna’s tempting figure.
Tonight, she said. We’ll be together again tonight.
We both leave the table, taking turns finding toys to throw for Pig until she doesn’t want to run anymore.
“Thirsty girl?” I reach for my backpack and pull out a bowl and water bottle I filled this morning.
