“I’ll be back in a few,” he said nervously, plucking the other robe off the hook without another word.
Mary sat down, putting her things on the chair nearby, then got up and selected a champagne flute… gulping down the first glass like it was water. She poured another, took it over to the bed, and sat against the headboard, putting her feet up on the bed.
She watched the television blindly as her mind thought of all sorts of scenarios of how this would work. She wasn’t naïve. She’d been married before, but there was something special about Jax that told her this would somehow be different between them.
As she heard the water turn off, her anxiety ratcheted up another notch. She quickly poured another glass of bubbly, needing something to keep her from worrying so much.
This was Jax… and if she said no? He would never hurt her. She knew that, believed that – the problem was she didn’twantto say ‘no’.
She was terrified she would disappoint him, and he would regret this.
He walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him, looking at her and hesitating. Instead, he walked over and picked up his glass, downing it, in almost the same manner she had done. He poured another glass and looked at the bottle, then at her.
“Are you as nervous as I am?” he asked softly.
“Very,” she admitted, sipping on her glass once more. “I’m not on the pill and never thought I would need to be… and well, I just…”
“Mary,” Jax interrupted, looking at her. “Honey, we don’t have to do anything – and I hope you know that. I would rather wait and not have you scared to be with me, than to push you for more and ruin our relationship.”
“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” she admitted, feeling nervous.
“You never could.”
“You’re going to want…” Mary waved her hand towards the bed, “… that.”
“Mary,” he said gently, holding out a hand towards her and offering to refill her glass.
She stepped forward and held it out, allowing him to pour some more bubbly in her glass – and his. He picked up his flute, smiled at her, and spoke tenderly.
“To an incredible first date…”
Mary couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled forward at his impish smile.
“Getting married isn’t a date.”
“It’s a miracle,” he breathed. “So, it’s the same thing to me.”
He tapped his glass against hers, drinking deeply, and she couldn’t help but watch his throat work as he polished it off before setting it down. She did the same, feeling slightly languid as the first and half the second glass were working its magic.
Setting down her glass, she hesitated, and felt him pull her forward to hug her. Stunned, she listened as he began to speak softly.
“Remember at Flyboys when you came out of the bathroom,” he said softly, smoothing her wet hair. “I remember thinking that I’d won the lottery if you were truly my pen pal, this incredible girl I’d been writing…”
“Really?” she whispered, realizing she needed to hear this from him.
“Yeah,” he smiled tenderly. “I never imagined a person who would knock my socks off with her beauty, someone who could yell ‘Khaaaan’at the television screen with me in unison and laugh about it, or a lovely woman who would enjoy the simple things, like seeing the sunset over the ocean spontaneously.”
“It was magical,” she agreed tearfully, feeling so much love within her for him, and recognizing that he was trying to make her comfortable.
“First date material,” he prompted, smirking.
“Indeed, it was,” she laughed softly.
“I think I fell in love with that woman so many times over, and kept telling myself that this was too good to be true…”
“What if it is?” she interjected.
“But what if this is how it’ssupposedto be, my love?” he urged tenderly. “What if we believed hard enough to make that fervent wish from the heart come true…?”