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Marrying someone you think you love after knowing them briefly and having a successful marriage is the exception, not the rule.
My lonely heart, though, cannot be denied. The little girl who watched her daddy leave and come back repeatedly always dreamed of something more.
I turn over again, face the other direction, and sigh as I snuggle into the covers.
One fact remains. I like him. I like him more than a lot.
Torben ticks all the boxes. He’s fun, he’s smart, he’s kind, he’s single and my age. He laughs at my jokes and makes me laugh in turn. He doesn’t mind me driving a car while he’s in it, which, let me tell you, is a massive plus for me. Yet he also has a chivalrous streak a mile long, opening doors for me and letting me walk ahead of him through doorways. Not touching his food until the server delivers mine. His achingly good manners cover over so many of his moments of privilege and snobbery.
But maybe he’s not interested in me for a wife. Maybe he’s in this for a good time before he begins the search in earnest.
I’d be down for that, I tell myself. I’d be down for that in a heartbeat.
That kiss on the patio at Jigsaw was the stuff fairy tales are made of. Better yet, his tongue in my mouth promised dirty, grown-up adult fairy tales.
I toss and turn some more, anticipating a rough night’s sleep.
However, I can’t go barging into his room in the middle of the night. I won’t crawl into the bed of a prince and demand we pick up where we left off.
I roll over again, turn on my phone flashlight, and stare at the hotel brochure on my nightstand, remembering something he said. I could order anything I wanted.
I order a massage for first thing in the morning, which makes me feel better.
That’s the ticket. A massage will set my mind right.
Smiling and looking forward to my morning appointment, I roll over and go to sleep, relaxed.
13
Torben
I have tossed and turned all night, riled at the way Hailey looked in that bathrobe. Aroused by the way she argued with me. Hardened as granite at the memory of her soft, pink tongue in my mouth.
But I must face the fact that she may not want to deal with a virgin.
And who could blame her?
Today, I will behave. I will keep control of my wits. I will gauge Hailey’s mood and measure how much she likes me.
I’ve been far too hasty with her. Far too forward.
I should have waited to kiss her until I made my intentions clear.
Today, I will make it up to her. While I was arrogant and foolish yesterday, today, I’ll be the gentleman I was raised to be. I will be straight with her, letting her know I wish to court her properly.
I rise from my bed and watch, mesmerized, as the mountains exhale their mist. I breathe the fresh air, ready for a new start with Hailey.
I will let her take the lead.
I will let her set the pace.
As I’m about to shower, odd music emanates from Hailey’s room. I hear a lilting pan flute, something I would never have expected her to choose as background music. Yesterday in the car, we listened to classic rock, bluegrass, and everything in between. Reedy pan flutes don’t scream “Hailey.”
Well, there’s plenty I don’t know. A woman is allowed to listen to whatever she likes.
I step into the shower and wash myself, unable to keep the silly smile off my face.
Simply thinking about courting Hailey has my cock hard as the ceramic tile, and so I consider whether I should scratch that itch. It’s the right thing to do, to maintain focus. All the better to keep me from thinking with the wrong head today.
