Page 23 of Wedded to a Wayne

I wanted to call and let Emerson know as soon as it happened, but I wasn’t sure he would appreciate the interruption. Or if our relationship was even there yet.

Thinking about him is one of the reasons I came home early today. He’s why I need to catch my breath. I can’t get the man out of my mind.

When I’m sorting through client questionnaires, I think of Emerson’s lips. When I’m scanning status updates and reworking managerial schedules, I’m thinking of that time I walked into the garage and saw him lifting weights, his shirt off and his muscular body covered in sweat.

I think about that all the time.

And then there are our evenings watching television in the master bedroom so we won’t disturb the boys.

I set down my keys and take off my jacket, my cheeks warm as I wander toward my bedroom. Other than Joey and my brothers, no man has ever seen me without my prosthesis before. But that first night, Emerson suggested I make myself more comfortable, staring at my legs so I couldn’t mistake what he was referring to.

I kept my stump covered with my sock and a throw blanket, but I still felt naked. By the third night, I’d almost forgotten all about it, because of the other things Emerson was doing.

First, he was only holding my hand. Caressing it through an entire episode. Then he rubbed my shoulders. My arms. Every night he found new ways to touch me. Always wearing less and less. Sweatpants. Shorts. Sweater. Tank top.

It’s like the slowest strip tease in the universe, and it’s starting to get to me.

I think he’s been trying to ease me into our relationship. Make me more comfortable around him. It might have worked, but then last night happened.

No, it wasn’t Dot Dot Dot. Not yet.

Joey was right about that.

I slip off my top and unwrap my skirt as soon as I get to the bedroom, closing the door and heading for the bath. I’ve been longing for a soak in that big beauty for days. As well as some exclusive me time.

I thought I knew what I was getting into. I did my research and I’d been diligent in the initial phase of our communications. Everything I saw about Emerson Wayne before the proposal said he was a careful man. Cautious. Patient. As detail-oriented as I am. A little old fashioned, but not in a grating way.

His ex-wife was the only piece that didn’t fit with anything else I learned about him. Rowena is too…Kardashian. I don’t mean it as an insult, but it’s the only way I can describe the in-your-face, over-the-top sex kitten attitude she exudes in all her photographs.

Now that I know Emerson and the boys, I think my research must have missed something. Or their attraction was all about the sex.

And now I’m a little jealous.

Because I want my husband, and he seems to want me. If last night is anything to go by, he really wants me.

I had no idea he was so sexual.

What if I don’t measure up?

I sit on the small bench I’ve placed near the tub and run my bath, adding oils meant to soothe my spirit as much as they ease my sore muscles. This is my old unwinding ritual. It usually comforts me.

I need it desperately. Based on his previous choices, I may or may not be my husband’s type, but he’s definitely mine, and he’s making me want things I’ve never wanted before. So badly, I’m not sure how much longer I can resist his advances.

I’m not even sure why I’m resisting at all.

I don’t know if he’s aware of it, but the way he follows me with his eyes drives me crazy. The way he seems to hold his breath when I pass. Or leans into an accidental touch. Or licks his full lips when I speak and makes me forget what I’m saying.

He reminds me of a dormant volcano ready to come back to life at any moment. And I want to believe I can be the one to make that happen, but it might be wishful thinking. Still, I’ve been making a lot of wishes lately.

I turn off the tap and, take off my bra and underwear, hyperaware of the way the fabric scrapes against my sensitive skin. Then I remove my socket, liner and sock before slipping into the deliciously hot water.

I wished to choose the husband I wanted, instead of the one my brother thought would benefit him financially.

I wanted Emerson as soon as I saw him, so I chose him.

As Joey would say, mission accomplished.

I rest my head on the waterproof pillow and let myself float in the water, thinking of last night again.

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