He watches me as he chews, somehow unable to keep smiling, dimples I’ve never noticed prominent on his cheeks.
“I was thinking about the rule I made about being discreet… with other women.”
He shakes his head as he swallows. “And we already discussed this. I don’t plan on sneaking around with other women.”
I look out the window, my face on fire for what I’m about to say. I can’t face him, and I know what that means, even as the man I’m planning to marry the day after tomorrow.
“I understand that you have needs. Sex is important to a man.”
“Something you were taught back in California?” Disdain drips from his words.
“I’m just saying that if you… you know… need that… we can… umm…”
He leaves me hanging, not saying a word or drawing the conclusion I was trying to make with my statement, and I have to turn back to face him.
His jaw ticks, irritation clear in his eyes before he turns his head away.
“I don’t have sex with women who aren’t interested in having sex with me, April.”
“I don’t mind.”
It is the absolute wrong thing to say, I realize when he swings his head back in my direction.
“Not minding isn’t the same thing as wanting to do it or being eager to do something,” he snaps, the paper on his burger crinkling in his grip.
His eyes soften, and I don’t know if it’s in response to the look on my face or if he’s regretting such a visceral reaction to my offer.
“What?” I whisper. “You look like you have something else to say.”
“Oh, I have a million things I can say right now, but I don’t think either one of us will benefit from it.”
I shake my head, the ever-ready threat of tears making themselves known behind my eyes. The pressure builds as I watch a squirrel run around on the grass, it’s fuzzy tail twitching back and forth. How easy would it be to exist as such an animal, the only worry to gather as many nuts as possible to last through winter?
“Can we date?”
“What?” I ask, turning back to look at him.
He’s rewrapped his burger, making it clear either he’s planning on a serious conversation that will prevent him from eating or he’s lost his appetite.
“Dating, April. Can we date?” His strong hand goes to the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s if you’d even have any interest in that. I mean—”
“You want to date your wife?” I chuckle, the question absolutely absurd. Boy, are we going about this all wrong.
“Are you opposed to seeing if we can grow something real between us?”
I shake my head, but it’s not really in response to his question. “What if you feel something I don’t or vice versa?”
“Do you find me attractive?”
“Oh, now you’re going to get shy?”
He turns to face me, his blue eyes soft and welcoming as his gaze drops to my lips. And that tingle I’ve felt more often in the last day than I should have makes itself known once again. Dating him would be no hardship at all. In fact, I can see myself loving this man one day, and yeah, maybe that’s my own immaturity, maybe I’m a fool. I can accept both of those things, but I feel like he sees me. And that’s already a hundred percent better than what I was getting from Cory.
“You never answered my question,” I remind him. “The one about what if we get married and start dating, and we find that we aren’t actually compatible?”
“I don’t see that being a problem,” he whispers, his focus still on my face.
I want to look away, feeling a need to break this moment. I can give him what he wants. If he wants to date, getting to know each other is completely fine by me. I think in the end it will make both of us better parents, but it’s the rejection I’m already preparing for. It’s him coming to his senses either before Monday or even after. It’s him walking away after I’ve allowed myself to get my hopes up that terrifies me.