Page 107 of Rescuing Mary

“Trucker,” she warned, tensing.

Truck continued to ignore her and walked into their bedroom and put her down in front of the bathroom. “You’ve got five minutes to do what you need to do in there.”

“And if I need more time?” she asked belligerently, hands on her hips.

Truck leaned over and ran a finger down her nose. “Then I’m comin’ in to get you.”

She huffed out a breath and entered the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Truck merely smiled. He loved when Mary got riled up. It was a much more honest reaction than the careful concern she’d been showing him for the last week.

He felt much better. His headache was almost all the way gone. The staples itched, rather than hurt, and he felt much stronger. There was no way he wanted to take three months off, but if he could break through the barrier Mary had put up between them, it would be fun having her all to himself without having to worry about being sent out of the country on a mission.

Truck hurried to the guest bathroom and did his thing before climbing into the bed. He’d taken off his shirt and sweats, but kept on his boxers. They’d be going too, but he needed to tame his skittish wife first.

Mary opened the bathroom door with twenty seconds to spare and stood there uncertainly.

Truck sucked in a breath at what she was wearing. He’d put the nightie on the bathroom counter earlier that night, but it looked a hundred times sexier on her than on the hanger.

Her short brown hair was in disarray on her head, the pink streak calling to him like a siren’s song. Her hair had grown in much thicker after the second round of chemo. He loved how it felt tickling his palm when he held her to him.

She had on a black chemise with spaghetti straps. She was still too slender, at least in his opinion. He could see her collarbones clearly. Truck made a mental note to make sure she ate three good meals a day…and had plenty of snacks. The black garment hit her at mid-thigh and he could see the red polish on her toes. She never wore it on her fingernails, but she loved painting her toenails.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” she quipped.

Truck knew she was nervous, and he smiled. “Come here,” he said, holding out a hand.

She hesitated, but Truck didn’t rush her. She’d come to him in her own time. That was one of the things he loved most about her.

Finally, she took a deep breath and padded across the room until she could touch him. She placed her hand in his and Truck felt his heart lurch in his chest. Everything this woman did slayed him. She was nervous and uneasy, but she still showed him how much she cared by trusting him.

Truck brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. Then he scooted over in the bed, pulling her up onto the mattress after him.

Mary lay back and yawned huge. “Boy, I’m tired. I can’t wait for tomorrow. I wonder what Em and Fletch named their son. Don’t you? I mean—”

Her words stopped abruptly when Truck placed his hand on her belly.

She immediately grabbed his wrist with both hands and bit her lip as she looked up at him.

“I love you,” Truck said gently. “I’ve seen you naked, Mare. I smoothed that lotion all over your chest when you were going through radiation. I slept with my head on your belly when you were in so much pain you didn’t want me anywhere near your chest, yet still wouldn’t let me move away from you. We’ve cried and laughed together. We faced cancer head on, and beat it, together. When I lost my memory, you didn’t give up on us. In fact, you went toe-to-toe with that paramedic bitch. Nothing means more to me than knowing you were willing to stick by me when I didn’t remember who you were. Don’t be afraid of me after everything we’ve been through. I love you and would never hurt you. Physically or emotionally.”

“It’s different now,” she whispered, not removing her hands from his wrist and staring at him with her big brown eyes.

“Because you’re not sick? Because you want me as much as I want you?” Truck asked.

Mary blinked in surprise but then nodded.

“Would you feel better with the lights out?”

She immediately shook her head. “No. It makes no sense, and it’s totally fucked, but I want to see you. I’ve dreamed about you making love to me for so long, there’s no way I want to miss one second of the experience. But, I’m scared that you’re going to take one look at me and not be able to get it up. Between the weight I lost and my flat-as-a-pancake chest…I’m not pretty.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Truck said in a huff. “Let go.”

Surprisingly, Mary loosened her grip on his wrist. He immediately got up on his knees and straddled her. He slowly pulled her nightie up over her hips. Mary didn’t move to help but he didn’t need her to. When the material was bunched at her belly, he kept pushing it up and over her chest.

Truck didn’t take his gaze from hers. She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove the garment altogether. The second it cleared her head, Truck leaned over her. He saw her struggle to keep from covering herself. She grabbed onto his biceps instead. Her fingers didn’t come close to touching around his large muscles, but she clung to him as if he was the only thing between her and certain death.

“Breathe, babe,” he said softly, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. He moved to the tip of her nose. Then her cheeks. He skipped her lips and moved his mouth to her left ear. “Feel how hard I am for you, Mary. You.”