Chapter Twelve

They snuggled up on the couch, Rick’s hand tracing lightly up and down her arm.

“I’m sorry about before,” she said sincerely.

“For what?”

“When I said I wanted it to mean more than just hopping into bed. That hurt you when I made it sound like that’s all you wanted. I saw it did. But I didn’t get that vibe at all from you; I still don’t. That was me trying my damnedest to find enough bricks to build enough of a wall you couldn’t knock down. So that you would give up and go away.”

“I know.”

She sighed, puzzled.

“How is it you know me so well already? How did you manage that?”

“Because, Faith, I built walls too. Different catalysts, same result.”

“I’m sorry too, for what you went through. That must have been devastating.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “It was. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

She shifted around so she could see his face.

“You meant what you said, didn’t you?”

“All of it, but which part are you referring to specifically?”

“That you’re broken too.”

“Yes, I am. But for the first time in a long, long time, I know what and who I want, and I am hopeful.”

And he kissed her temple.

They fell silent again, watching the fire casting shadows around the room. Faith yawned.

“It is getting rather late,” Rick noted. “If you’d like, you can take the bed, I can sleep out here.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed. That’s rude. Besides, I kind of like snuggling with you. I’ve missed that more than I thought I would.”

“Well then. I promise to keep my hands to myself. Sincerely,” he added, looking into her eyes. “We will go as slow as you need to.”

He stood up and took her hand, pausing at the doorway to his bedroom.

“I have some extra pajamas in the closet, let me get them for you.”

“Okay.”

Faith moved to the far side of the bed and sat to remove her boots. He returned with an oversized US Navy t-shirt, and a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms.

“Here you go,” he offered.

“Thanks. I’ll just, um, step in there for a minute,” Faith said, pointing to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment.

***

He’s different, she sighed. He truly is. Never met a man like him, ever.

Her self-preservation radar was still pinging, though not sounding the alarm nearly as loudly now.

Her mind whirled a million different directions at once as she removed her jeans, sweater, and bra, stacking them neatly. She pulled on the pajama bottoms, tied the drawstring, then slipped on his t-shirt.

Smells like him. And it made her smile.

She brushed out her hair with long practiced strokes as she talked to herself in her head.

I still can’t believe someone like him would want someone like me, her wounded self said.

What do you mean, ‘someone like me?’ her warrior side shot back. You make yourself sound defective. You’re not. You’re smart, funny, pretty, driven. And there’s a gorgeous man in the next room who is totally into you, who totally gets you, who is willing to move at whatever speed you want. You’re only defective if you don’t see where this goes.

“You know what?” Faith whispered to her reflection. “You’re right. I do deserve to be happy.”

***

She came out of the bathroom, standing with the light behind her highlighting the silver streaks in her dark hair. She turned off the light, walked slowly toward the bed, and he was awestruck once again. She looked so natural, so right, wearing his shirt. It took his breath.

“Jesus,” he said out loud before he could help himself.

“Hi,” she grinned.

“Hi,” he grinned back.

“You really look good in my shirt.”

She blushed as she made her way to her side of the bed and got in.

“Thanks.”

“What time do you want to get up?”

“I need to be out of here by six so I can go home and get ready for work.”

Rick reached and adjusted the alarm clock, then turned out the lamp.

“I’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone in bed with me,” he admitted in the dark. “Been a really long time.”

“For me, too,” she answered, then said, “oh, wow….” as she looked up.

The skylights over the bed lent the perfect view to thousands upon thousands of stars spilling like diamonds onto the ebony carpet of night sky, and a glorious moon, bathing where they lay in a calming subtle light.

She turned her head to see his profile partially shadowed.

“Cool, isn’t it?” Rick said and turned to look at her.

“It’s breathtaking,” Faith replied, turning her face to the sky again.

“Reminds me of when I was little. We lived in an old farmhouse out in the country about an hour north of town. No city lights around. At night, we’d go lay in our front yard in the grass and just look at all the stars.”

She sounded peaceful, relaxed, filled with wonder.

“Rick, look! Shooting stars.”

He smiled, put his arm around her as she snuggled up and laid her head on his bare chest. “You have to make a wish now.”

“You do too,” she said.

“No need. Mine already came true.”

He kissed her hair, feeling her cheek get warmer against his skin.

She’s blushing again, he realized.

It melted his heart a little, that she could react so strongly to simple truth. To tenderness. It tore at him just how hurt she’d been.

Instinctively he started to wrap his other arm around her.

“Rick?”

“Yes?”

“I think mine might have, too.”

She raised her head, then shifted her body so that she was slightly over him, her left leg draped between his.

“I’m still on shaky ground. I know that. But it sure feels less shaky with you, Rick. I’m still scared, but I want to see where this goes.”

“Good to hear,” he replied, and kissed her gently. “I don’t want to keep just existing, like a half-alive shadow. I want to get back to living each day to the fullest. With you.”

They fell silent, and in that lovely twilight of pre-sleep, she heard him whisper to her.

“Faith.”

“Hm.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Thomas.”

And she chuckled.

He held her closer, and they watched stars until they drifted off in each other’s arms.