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He grinned at her, looking her up and down as they walked to his truck. Like he always did, he held the door, observing her compensating for the leg by using upper body strength to pull her weight up into the seat.
“I remember the first day we were together; you spent at least two minutes staring at my legs when I got into your truck.”
“You have great legs,” he said.
“Ididhave great legs.”
“Babe, you have great legs, believe me. I’m a leg man.”
“Oh God, no way.”
“I’m a leg man for your legs. Even Stubby.”
He ran his hand up her thigh, but not stopping, inching his hands under the leg of her shorts.
“It’s all mine,” he whispered, winking at her.
“It is all yours,” she said, completely relaxing.
They reached for each other and hugged.
“This truck is probably not the best vehicle for you. We’ll look at an SUV with a lower profile. You and the baby can drive around town in it.”
“Ha! I like you chauffeuring me.”
“I have to go back to work to keep us in this lavish lifestyle,” he said, waiting for her to buckle her seat belt.
“I have to decide if I want to file for disability from the military,” she said, looking out the window.
“It’s not my decision to make, Bridget, but you lost a leg and an eye. I think you qualify.”
“Applying for it and getting it might mean the difference between staying home with Emily or going back to work full-time,” she said.
“And what do you want to do?”
“I thought I wanted to go back to work right away. But after spending this week with her, I want to be the one who makes the impact on her, not Margaret, as pleasant as she is.”
“We can keep Margaret on for the daily things, helping with laundry and cooking. She loves the baby. It will give you freedom to work part-time or go back to school.”
“I never thought about going back to school.”
“Look, you can do what you want. You can even stay in the military if you want as long as you don’t go away. You could work at the Coast Guard Station,” he said.
“I guess I never thought of that. I liked the military, but I’m a nurse, first.”
“You know what the hospital is like in Saint John’s Parish. Apply! I’m all for you doing whatever you want to do.”
“Really? Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I want you to be home, barefoot and pregnant, waiting for me,” he said, barking out a laugh.
“No way.” She knew he couldn’t be serious, but she thought maybe a littleIt might appeal to her, after all.
“Nah, but I would like you to be home. At least for a while.”
“Me too. I never wanted to be home before because I didn’t really have a home after I moved out of my mom and dad’s. It was a place to sleep. I made plans to get out as much as possible.”
“I’ll put you on the title here,” he said, glancing over. “Would that make you more comfortable?”
