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That was good to know. “I’m glad. You weren’t for me, either.”
“If I was devastated by a woman I didn’t truly love, how much could one I did hurt me?”
She managed to turn her palm over, offering to hold his hand instead of being trapped by it. That was what he needed to understand. He didn’t have to trap her. She wanted to be here with him. Wanted it so badly, but he still needed her patience. “That’s the trade, baby. Love can lift us up or it can crash us right down. Nothing good comes without risk. I love you, Sebastian. You can believe me or not. You can return the feeling or not. The one thing you can’t have is absolute certainty that you won’t get hurt. I can almost promise that you will. I could die. I could find myself in your position. What if I had an accident and lost my legs? Would you turn away from me because I wasn’t whole anymore?”
His fingers threaded through hers and he was suddenly holding on like he was afraid to let go. “Never. I would never leave you. I would…” He took a deep breath. “I would do anything I could to help you because that would be my place. It would be my right.”
That was exactly what she wanted to hear. “Why are you taking my rights away from me?”
He pulled his hand away, but didn’t move from the table. “I don’t want to lose you and what you’re going to have to go through in the next few days…I don’t want to lose you.”
“Then eat your soup.” She wasn’t going to push him any further tonight. She would have enough trouble getting him into bed.
He started to eat, slowly at first and in silence.
“This would pair well with the Grenache we got in yesterday.”
Tiffany got herself a plate. Normalcy. She’d meant what she said about there being no normal people, only normal behaviors. This was sweet, blissful normalcy. “Tell me all about it.”
“Well, you know they’re some of the most widely planted grapes in the world. Grown in hot and dry conditions,” he said quietly. “Spanish, mainly. I spent some time at a vineyard there.”
He proceeded to talk and for the first time in hours, she felt a real spark of hope.
* * *
Two days later, Sebastian stared up at Tiffany and wondered when she’d lost her damn mind. “I can shower by myself.”
She put her hands on her hips, a sign he’d come to know as pure stubbornness. “You can’t put your legs on. Am I supposed to dump you in and hope for the best?”
He pulled all his patience together. They’d survived the first night. He’d managed to get into bed without her help. He’d done it while she was changing into her pajamas. He hadn’t argued about sleeping with her—even though he’d wanted to. He’d lain there stiffly, staring up at the ceiling as she’d fallen asleep beside him.
But waking up that first morning with her cuddled up to him, her hair covering his chest and her breasts snuggled against him had made it all worth it. She’d been warm and soft and he’d wanted so badly to roll over and pin her down. He’d wanted to take her then and there and be done with it all.
He hadn’t that first morning and he hadn’t this one either. They’d been polite and calm, but he could feel the tension between them. Tension that would only get solved by getting inside her.
What if he did it wrong? What if he was awkward?
Technically, he might have had sex with more partners than she had. When he’d been at The Garden, he’d been determined to prove he could. But she likely had far more experience than he. He’d never taken a woman without his legs on, never pressed his body down on hers and forced her to take his weight. Never rolled in bed for hours with her.
He’d had sex but no intimacy.
Shit. He was really afraid of intimacy. If there was anything he’d come to learn about himself in the last two days, it was that fact. Having to depend on Tiffany was both wonderful and awful. Wonderful because she took care of him with a smile and no sign that it bothered her at all. Awful because he was waiting for her to get tired of it all.
The master shower was large and had no door, just a pretty tiled wall. He glanced in and his shower seat was already there. It would feel good to get clean. He hated how he had to do it though.
And he hated disappointing her, but he wasn’t ready for this. He’d slept with her. After he’d gotten cleaned up, he would have to allow her to help bandage the wound again. She’d seen it, of course, but only a bit of his right stump. Only what was necessary to apply the ointment and keep the wound clean. Now she would see him in all his glory.
But at least she wouldn’t have to bathe him like he was a child.
“Get me close enough to the shower seat and I’ll get myself there.” He would then hang his robe on the wheel chair and handle everything himself. She already had the shower water nice and steamy.
She moved the chair into place. “If you insist. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He took a deep breath. At least she was being reasonable. He shrugged out of the robe he’d managed to put on earlier. She’d promised to lay out some clothes for him. He would prove to her how independent he could be. That would help. He would show her that she wouldn’t have to sacrifice so much for him.
Thank god Sean Taggart believed in luxury. It was simple enough to hoist himself up and onto the seat.
It just wasn’t very comfortable.
