“And if I want to get away?” I’m teasing him as I press closer.
“Then I will look into buying some heavy chains to keep you secured to our bed, where you belong.”
His words are very serious, but they remind me of Joy’s conditions. “Trey, how are we really going to go so long without the best part of us?”
“It’s going to be damned hard, no doubt about it, baby. However, although you know how much I adore and worship your body, I don’t think it’s the best part of us. Is it bad I love fighting with you, getting you riled up, your cheeks all pink from annoyance? I love hearing the sound of your voice when you get all dreamy when you talk about a favorite thing, whether it’s a book or movie or anything else that has caught your fancy.
We’ll get through it. I know we can. So now’s your time to really go on rich-man dates. We’ve yet to get you to the opera, you enjoyed the symphony that time and you love the theatre. Filling the day will be a concerted effort to make it so that by the end of the day we will fall into bed too exhausted for sex.”
“We’re going to keep sleeping in the same bed? That sounds like torture, having you close and not being able to have you.” The pit of my stomach is fizzing with pleasure that he’s not looking to hide at work. He wants us to be together as we get through each day, not hiding from what we can’t have.
“Hmm, yes, yes it will. We’re going to have to look into buying you proper pajamas, no nightgowns or shirts for you. I’m thinking those scratchy flannel long sleeves and pant sets.”
Laughing, I poke him. “You too. No shirtless for you. It has been proven I cannot stop myself from enjoying you shirtless.”
“Are we going to have look into actual handcuffs or rope for you?”
“Maybe, but not until Joy gives us the okay.”
His laughter fills me up, and I snuggle into him. Almost instantly I feel him harden beneath me. I sigh and push off him. “I’m going to unpack and sort myself out upstairs. You can go into work, if you want.”
“No, I took the day off. If you need some time, I’m going to run out and buy those pajamas for the both of us.”
While he’s gone, I unpack the rest of my clothes, and it barely makes a dent in the large walk-in closet. It’s the kind of closet that has a huge island in the center for accessories, and the shoe section is less than a third filled. I’m a little overwhelmed, until I see except for his suits, his side doesn’t look much different from mine. He has a few more shirts, but there are only five pairs of shoes in his section. The area to hang his ties only holds about twenty then again his ties are all silk and probably run five hundred apiece. Still, where it counts, the flashing of his wealth is as subtle and understated as he is.
I’m in the study unpacking boxes, and am annoyed at myself for keeping so many. Half of the books are read and should have been donated long ago. I begin a pile for donation, and am chucking books in an unpacked box when Trey finds me.
“Here I thought I would find you unpacking.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started. I’m so annoyed with myself. Half of these books are read, and even though I reread a lot, this is ridiculous. Don’t look at me like that. Do not enable this weakness. I’m purging and donating these. They never should have been moved.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “Four boxes of books isn’t bad. When I moved from New York I brought five boxes of books myself.”
“You like to read? You’ve never mentioned that.”
“That’s because I read the stuff
you don’t like, and didn’t want to start an argument.”
“Memoirs and historical?” I make a face, and nodding he smiles.
“We wouldn’t have argued. I would have just said ‘how boring’ and moved on.” I stick out my tongue and toss more books into the box. “You had them move my big chair here, and that’s sweet, but it could have been trashed. I’ve had it for forever and it’s tired.”
“It can just as easily be gotten rid of. I wanted to make sure you have everything that will make you comfortable here. This is your home now, and I want you to feel like it is. ” He’s serious. His hands are on the back of the chair we’re discussing. I drop the books in my hand and climb onto the chair and lean against him. “What aren’t you saying? What has you wound so tight?”
His hands go into my hair, and he holds me against him. “I know I’m rushing you. I’m trying not to overwhelm you.”
“Say it.”
“When I say this is your home, it’s not to soothe or reassure you. It’s because I’m thinking long term, not a few months.”
I tense at his words, and finally it clicks.
“I know it’s scary, and that’s why I haven’t gone there yet. You don’t need any more pressure on you. I know you need more time, hell, from the outside looking in, even I’m wondering if I’m jumping the gun. But I’m not, and I know that because I know life is short and you have to do what makes you not just happy, but brings you joy in life and for me, that’s you. It doesn’t matter it’s been less than two months. From the first day I knew, and nothing has happened that has made me change my mind.”
Tears sting my eyes. I whisper the fear that has been dogging me all afternoon: “What if I’m not ever ready? What if I can’t love you back like you deserve?”
He picks me up and settles me into his lap on the leather chaise lounge. One arm is around me loosely, and the other runs through my hair. “Sweetheart, I know you haven’t had much experience with love, but what you said today to Joy was it at its most basic. That you are willing to go through pain to be better for me because you want me to have what you think I deserve. No one runs into a burning building knowing they’re going to get burned, unless they know they’re coming out with something important.