Thankful for You (9 page)
Confusion filled the thin man’s face. “But—but I need it, Beth.”
“Too bad. And my name is Elsie.” She marched around him and opened the door. “Now get out. Before my Special Forces boyfriend gets back—assuming I don’t set Bluebell here on you. Those beaks can open coconuts, you know.”
Gary sneered. “Boyfriend, my ass. No self-respecting man would hook up with a ball-breaker like you, at least not for long.”
Sig took that as his cue. “You’d be surprised. Some of us are man enough not to find a strong woman intimidating.” He stepped around and put his arm around Elsie’s waist. “Everything okay, sweetheart?”
“Fine. Just kicking some trash to the curb.” She smiled back at him and leaned into his chest.
Sig stepped away and cocked his head toward Gary. “May I?”
Elsie shrugged. “Don’t make a mess in the shop.”
Sig stepped forward and grabbed Gary by the collar, glaring into his face. “You heard the lady. Leave and don’t come back. If you do, I promise even the cops in this town will help me hide what’s left of your body. Got it?”
Sweat popped out on Gary’s face. When Sig let go of his collar, he wisely turned and ran.
Sig closed the door. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again, do you?”
Elsie grinned and wiped her hands on one another. “Nope. Thanks for the assistance, but I did have it under control. For the first time, I didn’t give a shit.”
“Good for you. And I could tell you had it. I wanted my share of the fun. We good?”
She leaned into his arms and kissed him. “Oh, yes. We’re very, very good.”
Several minutes later, Sig sighed. “I suppose we should head over to the hospital. Can you call Andrea in?”
Elsie nodded. “Sure, if you want me to be there. I’m not exactly family.”
He wanted to say,
Not yet
, but even his battered brain got it was too early for that. He settled for saying. “But you’re important to me, and I’d like you to be there.”
She paused a moment, then smiled. “Okay. I’ll have Andrea here ASAP. Meanwhile, flip the sign to, ‘Back soon,’ and lock the door.” She picked up her purse and jacket, meeting him on the way to the rear parking lot. “Want me to drive?”
“I’d appreciate it. I’m a little distracted at the moment.” Warmth filled him. Driving one-eyed still wasn’t his favorite thing. She didn’t look at him with pity when she asked, though. It was a question, nothing more or less than if he’d like beer or Coke with his supper. He’d never felt that kind of acceptance before, not even from his family, who still saw him as wounded and fragile.
She was silent on the way to the hospital, and strained when she greeted Sig’s mom and her boyfriend. When they went for coffee, Sig turned to Elsie and took in the thin line of her lips and the way her freckles stood out against her skin. “You okay?”
She squeezed his hand. “Sure. I don’t much like hospitals. I’ll be fine.”
“Fuck.” He thunked his head back against the wall. The last time she’d been in one—“Christ, Els, I’m sorry. We can go. Mindy’s got Ray and Mom. They’ll call me if anything happens.” How could he have been such an insensitive ass? The last time she’d been in a hospital had most likely been her miscarriage. Now he’d dragged her in to a maternity waiting room. He stood and tugged on her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Elsie’s smile floored him. She beamed like the heavens had opened. “No. I’m fine. I want to be here, with you, with your family. It feels right.”
“Huh?” This time, she’d completely lost him.
She pulled her hand free and patted his vacant seat. “Sit down, Sig. I had a rough few minutes, I’ll grant you, but—no, I don’t want to leave. I want to be part of celebrating a new life.”
Their conversation, though whispered, had drawn some attention. Sig sat down, reluctant to cause more of a fuss. He leaned close and put his arm around her. “Seriously. Say the word and we’ll go. Promise, if it gets to you, you’ll tell me.”
“It does.” She leaned her head into his shoulder. “But partly in a good way. It reminds me that life does go on—and that I can be a part of it, not just hiding myself away.” She laced her fingers through his again. “It also means the world that you’re willing to do that for me.”
“Of course I am. I’m in love with you.” He thunked his head again. Of all the damn stupid ways and times to blurt that out… God, he was an idiot.
“Oh, Sig.” Her voice hitched. “I think I love you, too.”
He felt the tremor that rippled through her. She had to be terrified. He kissed her temple. “Ssh. We’ll talk later, sweetheart. You’ve already made me happier than I ever thought I could be.” They’d get there. He was sure of that now. It was still going to take time, but Sig’s heart was full of life and hope.
Thanksgiving dinner at Sig’s house was a boisterous family affair. Ray and Mindy were there with one-year-old Martha Jane and the still-beaming grandparents. Even a couple of cousins had joined them. Elsie loved every minute of acting as Sig’s hostess. It had taken a while, but this past summer, Sig had gotten her to move in full time and though she’d been nervous, she didn’t have a single regret.
Sig loved her and she loved him. She trusted his patience. Someday she’d be ready to take the next step, and Elsie believed with all her heart that he’d still be there.
She finished brushing her teeth and climbed into her side of the king-sized bed. A few feminine touches had slipped into the master bedroom in the last few months, including changing his dark sheets for crisp, snowy white. She brushed her hair while she waited for Sig to finish locking the puppy in his crate. The rescued mongrel was another new addition to both their lives—an unspoken pact that they were a family unit from here on out.
Sig, wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans, entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Elsie set down her brush and smiled at him, enjoying every inch of the view as he peeled off his jeans and put them in the hamper.
“Well, we survived our first big event as a couple,” she said. “I think it was a success, don’t you?”
“A huge one, honey.” He passed the bed, dropping a kiss on her head as he went by. “You were fantastic.”
Elsie beamed. Somewhere along the way, she’d gotten past the need to deny or downplay his compliments. She had utter confidence that he meant every word. “Maybe come Christmastime, we’ll have a bigger party—something for your co-workers and other friends as well as family.” She had a sneaking suspicion that by the holidays, they might have something even bigger to celebrate. Another month, and she was pretty sure she’d be ready for the ultimate commitment.
“That’s a great idea.” He pulled a paper sack from the closet. “I’ve got something for you here.”
The breath caught in Elsie’s throat and her heart seemed to stop.
Not yet
, she wanted to scream. She was almost ready.
Almost
. She forced the bile back down her throat.
Sig sat beside her on the bed. “Breathe, sweetheart. It isn’t a ring.”
She looked into his loving brown eyes. She couldn’t bear to hurt him.
But he smiled sweetly, with so much tenderness, and a few more of her reservations slipped away. Maybe she could say yes.
Sig shook his head. “I’m not going to dump a proposal on you, Elsie. Not yet. This is something else, something I want you to have.”
Elsie drew in a deep breath and smiled. “Sorry.” She unfolded her fingers from the handle of the bag. It was oddly heavy. “It isn’t…. That is, I do….”
“A panic attack isn’t your fault.” He silenced her with a quick, hard kiss. “I know you love me. That’s enough. For now.”
“I do. Love you, that is.” Now that her panic attack—between Sig and her new therapist, they’d finally convinced her that’s what these freakouts were—had passed, she felt like an idiot.
“Love you, too. Now open your present.”
She pulled a tissue wrapped bundle from the bag and unrolled the paper. A heavy object fell into her lap and she blinked. “A knife?”
He nodded. “A K-Bar. It’s what most of us carried into combat. That one saw me through a lot of grief.”
The logic wouldn’t come. “Why did you give me a knife?”
He wrapped her fingers around the black handle. “Because I love you, and I want you to feel safe. I didn’t keep any of my firearms when I came home, but I did keep this. It was a sort of security blanket. But I don’t need it anymore. So I wanted you to have it. I want you to keep it. If I ever make you feel frightened, I want you to use it. I swear, I won’t stop you, won’t fight back. The most important thing to me now is making you feel safe.”
Elsie stared down at the weapon in her hands, stunned by the magnitude of his gesture. Then suddenly, inexplicably, something in the very foundation of her universe shifted. She pitched the knife, sheath, paper bag, and all, onto the floor and launched herself into Sig’s arms, laughing.
“I don’t need a knife, you wonderful, crazy, amazing man.” She pushed him onto his back, straddled him, and pressed kisses all over his face. “I’m not afraid of you.”
It was true. Still afraid of herself, a little, of commitment, somewhat, but of Sig? Never.
“I love you, Sig.” She kissed him long and deep, feeling his cock pressing almost into her pussy. “I love you and I always will. You’re not getting rid of me, and I’m sure not getting rid of you.”
“Really?” The hope in his face made something warm bloom in her heart.
“Really.” She slid her already wet folds over the head of his cock and slowly settled down onto him. “I still want a few weeks to get used to the idea before we make it formal, but I’m sure.” She’d told him she was on the pill, but this was new, trusting each other enough to skip the latex. Nothing had ever felt so intimate, so powerful.
“All the time you want, darling.” He arched his spine, filling her body as much as he filled her heart.
“Christmas,” she whispered, circling her hips. “I want a ring for Christmas.”
“You’ve got it.” He thrust up slowly, pushing deep. “I’m warning you, though, I’m always going to think of Thanksgiving as our private anniversary.”
“Works for me.” She said each word through a gasp of breath. “I’m sure as hell thankful for you.”
“Likewise.” An orgasm like an avalanche hovered at the edge of her consciousness. She slowed, wanting to prolong this moment. She slid down on his thick cock with excruciating slowness and said, “I’m thankful for love.” Another stroke and she purred, “Thankful for life.” Finally, she couldn’t hold back and rode him hard, nearly screaming this time. “Thankful for you.”
Cindy Spencer Pape firmly believes in happily-ever-after and brings that to her writing. Award-winning author of 16 novels and more than 30 shorter works, Cindy lives in southeast Michigan with her husband, two sons, one granddaughter and a houseful of pets. When not hard at work writing she can be found dressing up for steampunk parties and Renaissance fairs, or with her nose buried in a book.
You can visit with Cindy at:
Snow Angels by Sabrina York
The last thing Wade Masters wants on his month-long getaway to his sister’s wilderness cabin is company. A wounded warrior, Wade is looking for complete isolation to deal with the tragedy of his life and his screaming guilt.
But company he gets, in the form of Lyssa Salk, a spunky, diminutive massage therapist. Who says she can talk to dead people.
Trapped together in the snowbound cabin, Wade and Lyssa have little else to do but help each other heal, spiritually, physically and sexually.
