“Didn’t say that,” I tell her, and I can feel my skin growing hot with embarrassment. Kinda liked it, actually. “Just saying we should save it for when I’m not driving.”
“Oh. Of course.” She gives me a shy look. “Are you sure about this, Emvor?”
That might be the first time I’ve heard her say my name. I like it, almost as much as I like the face tasting. “I’m sure. You’re mine and that’s that.”
“That’s that,” she echoes, a happy sigh in her voice. “I didn’t think you liked me.”
“Like you too much,” I admit to her, and I’m rewarded with another wide smile. Complimenting her makes me feel good. Gonna have to do it more often, I think.
The drive back home seems to take three times as long as it should. I’m conscious of Nicola in the seat across from me, her hair ruffling in the wind. Is she going to want to be mine in all ways when we get back? Or does she need more time to adjust to the thought of being in the bed—really, really being in the bed—of an ugly mesakkah like me? I think of my bad knee and the mass of scars there, and wonder if it’s going to bother her. But she pushed her mouth against my cheek like it didn’t affect her, and gods know it’s ugly enough.
Doesn’t matter. We have all the time in the world for her to get comfortable with me. I’ll give her as much space as she needs, and if it takes a year or two for her to reach for me in bed other than to share warmth, it won’t matter. Just her presence is enough. I’ve had more joy in this short week with her on my farm than I’ve had in the last ten years. If she needs time, I’ll give her time.
I park the sled with a little too much haste and then help her down from it, mostly just so I can have an excuse to put her hand in mine again. Her fingers are warm against my skin and just that small touch makes my cock ache like it does when we’re under the covers together. And just like those times, I start to sweat.
She’s really going to be mine.
Calm, I remind myself. She needs a man that’s going to be patient with her. She’s already skittish.
Except she doesn’t seem all that skittish at the moment. She’s beaming and happy and gazing at my small home as if it’s the best thing she’s ever seen. And then she looks over at me the exact same way.
Nearly come in my trou just at that one look. I release her hand so I don’t and push inside. “Settle yourself in,” I tell her. “I’ll get the food and put it away.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind not going to the gathering?” Nicola asks, her voice soft. She stands on the doorstep, hugging that wrap around her shoulders as if she’s ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t socialize because of me.”
I can’t help the snort that escapes me as I reach into the back of the sled and pull out the stacks of mouthwatering pastries she’s made for my neighbors. Too bad for them, because I plan on making myself sick on all this good food made by my wife.
My wife. The thought fills me with pride and a sense of rightness. This is how it should be. We belong together. She’s mine. I’ve never loved the thought of something like that so much. “Hate socializing,” I admit to her. “I’m not much of a people person.” I hesitate, then continue. “But I’ll give it a shot if you want to meet the neighbors.”
“Eventually,” she says, following me inside the house. “But I’m not ready yet, I don’t think.”
“Take your time,” I tell her, and I mean it. “If I don’t have to see their faces for years, that suits me just fine.”
Nicola’s laugh is soft. “Maybe not years. But a few months at least. I’m not much of a partyer. I’m definitely more a stay-at-home type.”
“Which is why we’re perfect together,” I say, but the words come out slowly, as if I’m as shy as a schoolboy. Kef, I feel as awkward as one. Half expect her to tease me for saying such a thing.
But she doesn’t. She’s just quiet. I put the food on the counter and turn around—
And she’s right there, standing right in front of me. Gazing up at me with a little smile playing around her lips. She takes my hand in hers again, and considers it. My four fingers to her five. My blue skin against her strange pinkish-white. Nicola traces her fingertips over my knuckles, and that slight touch sends a shiver up my spine.