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The truth was that I was trying to talk myself out of being attracted to Adam, because it had always been an uncomfortable truth and now that we lived under the same roof, even if it was only for a short period, it seemed likely that I was going to make things awkward.
Like he had the last two nights, when I crawled into bed he reached out and pulled me right up against him, tucking my head into his shoulder.
It was when he did things like that that it made me all melty. The pit of my stomach felt funny when he did sweet things, and it always made me question for a moment whether he was just being nice or whether he liked the closeness.
“Sleep well, Mrs. Beckman,” he said sleepily into my hair, and my eyes snapped back open. I reached for the hand he had curled around my stomach and brought it to my lips so I could kiss his open palm, then I tucked it into my neck, beneath my chin, and smiled my way into sleep.
I’ve wanted that last name since I was ten.
Apparently we were a very non-traditional couple, because when we woke the next morning we didn’t panic about seeing one another on our wedding day.
We both pulled our uniforms out of the closet and laid them out on the bed, inspecting them for wrinkles and giving our boots a good polish.
He made coffee while I put together a quick breakfast, and while he got dressed I cleaned up the kitchen, fed the dog and the cat, and stared out the huge windows into the beautiful yard filled with early morning sunshine. It was our wedding day and there were butterflies in my stomach for no good reason other than that by the end of the day I could call Adam Beckman my husband.
The smile slid off my face as I stood there sipping my coffee, the cold realization washing over me yet again that Adam was marrying me for Daniela. He would be my husband in name only, and it hurt my heart more than a little to think of the day when he’d announce that we were settled and he’d be on his way.
“Hey, what’s that look for?”
I startled when big arms wrapped around me from behind and I leaned my head back against him. I’d gotten used to it in just a few days, having him here, having him dialed into my looks and sighs, knowing that God broke the mold and I would never find another man like this one.
“Just taking in the situation.” I tried to keep my voice light, finishing the coffee and reaching out to slide the cup onto the nearby counter. “We’ve made a lot of really big life decisions this week.”
“Good ones, I hope,” he said, and he slipped one of his arms out to tuck my hair behind my ear, pressing his face up alongside mine as he cuddled me close.
That. Things like that. I couldn’t take it when he was all sweet and gentle with me, like he genuinely cared. It hurt my heart to think of opening up to that, learning to expect his kindness and his gentle ways and then to lose them. To keep my heart walled off would hurt less, even if it meant I experienced less.
“None of these decisions were bad ones,” I said quietly, letting myself sink into his embrace and trying to commit the feeling of his arms around me to memory for the days and nights I wouldn’t have him anymore.
He hummed a sound of assent in my ear and I reached up over his shoulders to hug him in reverse. My hands drifted over the back of his head to slide down his glossy hair, toward his neck, and I gasped. “Adam!” I jolted out of his arms and spun to face him. “What happened to your hair?”
That long curtain of thick, black, glossy hair was nearly gone.
“I had to keep my hair pretty short back in the days I wore this uniform,” he said softly, running a self-conscious hand over the hair that barely reached his chin. “It seemed disrespectful to wear it with long hair.” He looked a little apologetic. “I just kind of took the buzzer and…well, it feels weird. Does it look weird?”
“It’s just…it’s…” I couldn’t stop staring, it was such a foreign thing. “I’m not used to it, that’s all. I haven’t seen you with short hair in a really long time and I wasn’t expecting it.”
What Ireallyhadn’t expected was Adam in his dress uniform, and it was hot AF. I wanted to throw him on the kitchen island and give him some idea of just how much I appreciated it.
He was disappointed with my response, I wasn’t sure why, but I could see it in his face.
“I should have just kept it the way it was.” He dropped his gaze. “You don’t like it.”
The tiniest flicker of hope flared to life in my heart, because it seemed like he cared about my opinion.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I teased. “Wedding’s off because you cut your hair.” His eyes snapped up to mine in surprise, like he thought I was being serious.
“Are you crazy?” I smiled, taking his chin in my hand. “I don’t care about things like that; I’m not that shallow. This…I see this.” I tapped his heart gently with my index finger before gesturing to his face and admitting with a grin, “But this has never made me cry myself to sleep, either.”
He dropped his face quickly to leave a kiss in my palm and my body flared with the most inconvenient need. “Go get dressed, Mrs. Beckman. We have a wedding to attend, and call me crazy, but I don’t think they can have it without us.”
I nodded and hurried to the back of the house, where my ABU waited for me on the bed.
I had no such qualms about long hair, but I worked mine into a loose French braid and pinned the end under so that it wouldn’t trail below my collar and I could still fit the maroon beret on my head. It was likely the last time I’d wear any of these things, and I smoothed a hand over the uniform that symbolized the passage of a significant portion of my life. There were a lot of terrible memories associated with this uniform, but a lot of good ones too, and those memories made me who I was.
Adam’s lips tipped up in a small grin when I walked back into the kitchen. “I’ve never seen you in your uniform before, VanBuren.”
I’d kind of been hoping he’d call me Beckman again.
