Dirty Sweet Cowboy

“I’m pretty sure you have not,” he admits. “I think these are the first jeans I ever bought as an ad

ult person .”

He gestures toward the front door of the restaurant, gallantly opening it for me. My mouth salivates immediately as soon as I smell the tang of lemon and broth, garlic and rosemary .

Even the maître d’ doesn’t seem to recognize us. He smiles politely and guides us back to a private table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, holding my chair out for me politely. I do my best to sit down like a normal woman, not one who has just put on twenty pounds in the last couple of months .

“Thanks for coming,” he smiles. I realize immediately that he didn’t tell me I look beautiful. The way he is looking at me, he’s thinking it. But he didn’t say it, even though that’s what he always said first. It seems strange, but kind of nice. The Prince Charming act seems to have dissolved, at least for the moment .

“I think I like the blue jeans,” I confess. “Kind of macho. Like a lumberjack .”

He chuckles deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest .

“It’s funny you say that. I’ve been working on… a project. Something macho, I guess you could say .”

“A project ?”

His eyes twinkle. “Kind of secret project, really .”

“I can keep a secret,” I shrug .

“Well… okay. How about this. Can I host a baby shower for you? Secret location and all that ?”

I glance up at him, startled. He staring at me intently, but not in an overbearing way. I can tell he’s curious about my answer and excited to tell me his secret even though he probably won’t just yet .

“I guess you’d have to talk to my mom? Bea? So… I am probably not authorized to say yes. Maybe ?”

He snaps his menu closed triumphantly. “Excellent. It’s a good enough answer for me .”

I have to giggle. “What is up with you?” I wonder aloud. “Are you on drugs? You really do seem different .”

He rolls his eyes and chuckles again, a sound I didn’t realize how much I’d missed hearing. “I guess hard work has just been really good for me,” he explains humbly. “You’ll see. I promise .”

Though I want to order one of everything on the menu, I restrict myself to beef bourguignon and fresh bread. Lots of bread. They have to bring us two extra baskets before I’m done .

It takes a little while, but eventually we begin talking, just making polite conversation. I tell him about work, leaving out how I’ve been scrimping to decorate the babies’ room. Leaving out how my clothes fit me, or anything else that sounds like a complaint. I tell him that I enjoy the work, and I really do .

We talk for a long time, and I realize I don’t want it to be over. I’m not ready to go home yet .

“I was wondering,” I sigh as the waiter takes away the dishes. “Maybe… it’s pretty late. Do you think I could just stay over? At your place ?”

His eyebrows go up, but he doesn’t tease me or anything. “I’d love that .”

Perry is waiting outside with the Rolls when we’re done with dinner and he drives us back to Ethan’s condo building. We don’t say anything, but I don’t even know what I would want to say right now anyway .

As soon as we’re alone, his hands find my hair and he holds me, rocking slowly back and forth, dancing that silent dance that I remember from the patio at the beach house .

Inhaling against my hairline, he smells my hair like he always does. The little details somehow escaped me before. But now I appreciate them when my body feels so weird. I guess I took everything for granted before. Easy things are hard now. I have to be conscious of where I am and what hurts and what feels good all the time. I feel conspicuous and swollen, worried that people are judging me all the time .

But when he pulls away, I don’t see any of that. There’s absolutely zero judgment in his eyes as he tugs on the straps of my dress, pushing it from my shoulders. He smiles sweetly, drinking me in. I’m not embarrassed at all. I’m not even as shy as I was when we first met .

He picks me up as though I’m as light as a feather, and carries me to the bedroom. We kiss all the way, eager and thirsty, needing to find each other .

We make love quickly, both of us finding relief, finding the path to ecstasy without stopping, without meandering. I’m so grateful to be close to him, to feel this familiar comfort, I almost cry .

He gazes into my eyes when he comes, holding my head in his hands, forceful but careful not to hurt me. I want to tell him he doesn’t need to do that—I’m sturdier than I look. But I think it is sweet that he’s thinking about it .

As we drift toward sleep, I watch his face change, becoming more relaxed, outlined by the silvery moonlight that comes through the window. Did I really give this up? Did I really push him away ?