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My hands are on my hips and I’m looking down at the vulgar staff in my shorts when the door leading to the kitchen opens, revealing Tanisha with a handful of colorful, lacy underwear.
Fuck me.
She stares at my bare chest with eyes so wide they’re taking up most of her face, and it’s so adorable I scowl in return. “Did you need something?”
A quick flinch and her eyes lift to the ceiling. “Sorry. Sorry. Delicates. I wa
s unpacking and I thought I’d wash these in the delicate cycle?”
I’d scowl harder but she’s not looking and I don’t want to waste it without an audience. “You don’t have to ask to do your laundry in your own house. Anyway, I’m done here. I need to hit the shower.”
She bites her lower lip, still looking up. “Good idea. I mean, you look really hot. Sweaty,” she corrects, louder than she needs to. “You’re all sweaty.”
God, she’s cute. “You’re not going to look at me, are you?”
“Not right now, no.”
“You had brothers and a guy for a roommate.”
“Not the same. But I didn’t go around staring at them either.”
I walk over to her and lower my lips to her ear. “You can, you know. We’re married. I slept beside you last night. There’s a ring on your finger that says you’re allowed to look.”
One of my grandmother’s. Asking for it went a long way toward easing my mother’s ire. I was able to get a small modification made to the band in time for the wedding. Three small yellow diamonds that made me think of Tanisha. More than worth it for the smile she gave me when I put the ring on her finger.
Her eyes only lower enough to meet mine, and the warning look she’s giving me makes me laugh. “Maybe later,” I concede, carefully circling around her so I don’t get my sweaty body or rampant erection anywhere near her delicates.
Was it my idea to go slow?
Bad idea, Emerson. Horrible idea.
***
After a week of it, I’m ready to take drastic measures. Six days of sleeping beside her. Six days of accidental meetings in the hall and watching her mouth move as she talks.
Going out for those work meetings was almost a relief. I needed some perspective. My home office smells like her now. The throw pillows are migrating. So even though she’s out in the world, happily ruling her kingdom and being driven around by some guy named Derek all day, she’s still here. Near my desk. In my head. Messing with my mind.
I wipe the steam off the bathroom mirror before struggling into comfortable sweatpants and a long sleeve thermal. I know I’ll be grateful for them later, because this new wife of mine likes to keep the heater on low, even though it started snowing last night.
Hopefully the layers are thick enough to hide the erection that isn’t going to get the kind of relief it wants for a while.
Not until she’s comfortable. Ready. You promised.
I step out of the bedroom and into the hall, wiping my damp forehead with the back of my hand and hearing the trio of voices coming from the living room. The boys sound happy. Happier than they’ve been in a while.
We’re all under her spell.
“It has computers inside it?” Lang asks, sounding amazed.
“Microprocessors, but yes, basically. And sensors so I can move more naturally and even ride a bike if I wanted to. I mean, I don’t want to. But I could.”
Her prosthesis. I lectured them up one side of the house and down the other that it would be rude to bring up something that private just to appease their curiosity.
I’m surprised they waited this long to disobey me.
“I like how shiny it is,” Barry tells her. “Is that why you got it? Because you thought it was prettier than your regular leg? Do you ever draw on it?”
“It is pretty, but I lost my real leg, so I didn’t have the chance to choose. I also didn’t know they’d eventually have something this cool for me to use. So, it turned out okay in the end. And no, I don’t think drawing on it is a good idea.” She says it with a matter of fact tone that tells me this isn’t the first time she’s talked to kids about her “shiny” leg.
