Chapter 10
10
STEPHANIE
This was going to be so hard to be strong around Lance, she thought wildly trying to will her heartbeat to slow down somewhat. That man was just too pretty for his own good, and when you combined that charm with all those sexual advances and innuendo tossed in her direction – it was a lethal mix that was going to bring down her resolve like a ton of bricks.
In the two months since she had last seen him, he appeared a little more tan than before and just as devastatingly gorgeous, but there was something else. There was a vulnerability in his eyes when he looked at her now like he was scared of her.
I knew he wasn’t the type to stick around, and I must have been a fool to toss out a condition like marriage to the first guy who looked at me sideways, she thought silently, clutching her robe tightly around her as she watched him get out of her car with the marriage license.
Men like him were ‘players’ always searching for the next bit of fun around town. They weren’t the type to settle for one person, but a part of her desperately wished he was. As he walked up, he looked at her strangely and gave her a slight smile before nodding.
“Let’s get you inside and off your feet. You look tired, and dinner is probably almost ready.”
That half-decent comment, the vulnerable feelings within her, combined with a gentle hand on her back, was a lot. She had felt so stuck, so very alone lately, and that simple morsel of kindness was her undoing. Blinking back tears, she couldn’t look at him as he led her inside, talking to her.
“I’m a horrible cook, and usually the mess hall handles everything, but I can follow directions and learn, right?” Lance began quietly, chuckling softly as he pulled a baking sheet out of the oven. “When I was a boy, we were dirt broke and my mama would make these for me. Even when I go home and visit, she’ll still do it.”
“You call your mother ‘Mama’?” she asked thickly, touched by this sudden side of him. “What is it she makes? It smells good.”
“I don’t care how old I get. She’ll always be my mama… and will still whoop me with a flip-flop if I get outta line,” he chuckled, joking with her as she stared at him, fascinated. “Mamas and Grandmas are special like that, you know? Some guys hang out with their dads, but I was always a mama’s boy. My dad held two jobs when I was growing up, so I wasn’t as close to him, and I guess that scares me because of my job.”
That simple statement was telling. She felt her lip wobble as her chin quivered, about to have a royal sob situation… only to hear him speak.
“Do you like pigs in a blanket? Man, my pigs look more like bloated, half-dead swine right now, and I must have done something wrong. Mama’s don’t look like this in the slightest,” he volunteered, sliding a plate in front of her with a single curled hot dog almost in a ‘C’ shape with two mauled biscuits around the weiner, flopped open, and cooked like that. It was so weird, so strange looking, and so unexpected that she burst out laughing tearfully and looked at him. His dark eyes softened as he smiled tenderly at her.
“Can’t say I didn’t try…”
“No, that’s true,” she offered, nodding and reaching for a napkin from the holder on the table to dab her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a hormonal mess for two or three weeks now, and I cannot help it. It just hits all of a sudden.”
“It’s fine and perfectly understandable.”
“It’s not fine when you start crying at animal shelter commercials – that is how you end up with a herd of dogs.”
“It’s a pack… and I don’t think anyone would blame you,” he smiled, getting his plate and sitting down opposite of her. “Let’s eat while it’s hot, and then we can do something weirdly normal, like sit on the couch together and talk or watch television. I can pass you a tissue if the threat of puppies suddenly appears on the screen. Nefarious little fur monsters…”
“Oh, hush up,” she wept, reaching for another napkin in sheer dismay because all of this normalcy and sweetness was completely disarming her.
“Mustard?”
“Ketchup.”
“Welp, we’re done,” he teased openly, nudging the bottle toward her. “Maybe I should get rid of that license after all.”
“Probably,” she admitted, wiping her eyes. “I mean, you haven't seen the sacrilege that is my normal go-to snack.”
“Oh?”
“Doritos dipped in blue cheese dressing,” she confessed, expecting him to flinch and he just smirked, lifting an eyebrow at her again. “What?”
“You don’t mock me, and I won’t tease you.”
“What do you like to snack on?”
“Well, you, for starters…” he said nonchalantly as her mouth dropped open in shock at the blatantly sexualized comment. “But I prefer Oreos dipped in those Frito Lay bean dip cans.”
“That’s disgusting – at least I can blame my weird tastebuds on pregnancy.”
“I’m a freak. So what? Nobody steals my snacks on the ship.”
“They probably clear the room.”
“That’s when I fart after all those beans,” he chuckled – and she burst out laughing wildly. “Hey man, those beans are lethal and will do it to you. I promise to open a window to save my wife’s delicate nose.”
“Well, thanks for the visual, Prince Charming ,” she giggled, feeling better at being around someone who was turning out to be exceedingly crass and refreshingly blunt despite the sex appeal that seemed to just roll off of him.
“I knew you thought I was special,” he grinned, winking at her. “Now eat up, that’s my baby brewing in that sweet little belly, and I have it on good authority that my little man is hungry.”
“A boy, huh?”
“If it’s a girl, I’m gonna be a mess,” he smiled shyly, looking at her through his lashes. “I mean, can you see me playing Barbies with a little girl and painting tiny toenails?”
“I could,” she said hoarsely, realizing it was true. If they could figure this out somehow, Lance could be the sweetest person. It was so easy to picture him sitting there on the floor with a little girl putting eyeshadow on her Daddy. “I really could, you know? Is that so bad?”
“Nah,” he mumbled thickly before smirking. “Those little white tights and ruffled butts though that you see on commercials and magazines - those things are adorable. We’ll have to get her some.”
“Maybe…”
“Maybe,” he agreed and pointed at her plate again. “Eat, please… and thank you for picking me up at the airport, allowing me to stay on the couch. I really do appreciate it, and know this is strange – but I think we can figure this out together. Don’t you?”
Stephanie didn’t answer. She simply took a bite of the weird hot dog/biscuit combination and chewed. All those fears, insecurities, and questions were still there within her. Life couldn’t be straightened out in an hour, a day, or a weekend. It would take time to see how things went between them – and time was something that was already ticking away.
They finished eating in silence. She kept stealing glances at Lance, curious as to what was going on in that head of his. He was so quiet, so calm, which seemed so out of character for him. The one time she’d met him, he’d been so vibrant and outgoing, almost like he was putting on a show, but now?
Now, she didn’t know what to think of him.
“What are you thinking?” Lance asked quietly, almost as if he could read her mind. She jerked her eyes upward to meet his, hoping she didn’t look guilty at the moment.
“Well, what are you thinking?” she asked bluntly, knowing it was coming out accusatory, but she really did want to know. She just didn’t know how to ask him or how to start that conversation.
A slow, soft, decadent smile touched his and seemed to ignite a warmth in his soul that glowed from his eyes, and she swallowed as a shiver of awareness raced up her spine, making her toes curl.
“Princess,” he whispered huskily, “you don’t want to know what I’m thinking about right now. It would shock you to your core, and I don’t think we are there yet in our relationship.”
“Freak…” she hissed under her breath, getting up to put her plate in the sink, only to hear his wonderful laughter roll over her, filling the room.
“Babe, you say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ve never hidden my intentions from you once,” he replied, turning in his seat at the table to look at her. “You asked, so I answered in a roundabout way. Do you really want to know what I’m thinking about?”
“Not anymore,” she sputtered, turning on the faucet full blast to drown out anything he might say next.
“Why, princess - is my sweet…”
Stephanie interrupted him, singing the theme song to Sesame Street loudly just to cut him off and keep from hearing him. That show played all the time at the bank on the small television in the waiting room because it was ‘safe’ – and she knew all the words long before a child ever became a blip on her radar.
Only to feel Lance touch her hand.
She jumped nervously, jerking her hand away from his. How had she completely missed him rising from the table? He managed to sneak up behind her, and she melted as his voice joined hers, singing. He slowly touched her elbows, gliding his rough hands ever so gently down her forearms, pulling her hands from the water that was still running. It was like she was under some spell, completely enthralled, as he began to sway with her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he continued to sway and hum the song, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Enjoying a moment with my wife.”
“I already told you…”
“And I told you that I’m going to get it taken care of,” he interrupted in a firm whisper. “Don’t ruin this, Oscar the Grouch. Everyone knows Elmo is the favorite puppet.”
“And I suppose you are Elmo?”
“Wanna tickle my belly and find out?”
“How did I know you were going to make that dirty somehow?”
“I’m innocent,” he chuckled softly by her ear. “But I hoped you would make it dirty.”
“Don’t you blame your lecherous thoughts on me…”
“Are you sure you aren’t a librarian?” he asked, kissing her earlobe softly, and Stephanie shivered, trying to pull away out of his arms. This was getting too close, too affectionate, and she needed to hang on to her frustration right now. She wasn’t going to be one of those women who just swoons and melts into some guy’s arms every time he schmoozes her after he makes a mistake. “‘ Lecherous ’ is a fancy big word, princess.”
“Quit calling me princess.”
“Fine… wife.”
“Not that either. ”
“Well, okaaaay,” he drawled, chuckling. “Baby-batter-baker?”
“Uggggh!” she seized up, jerking his hands off of hers, and turned to glare at him, holding a spatula aloft like a weapon. Lance was laughing so hard at her reaction, grinning wildly. “You’re disgusting!”
“You don’t like that one either?
“NO!”
“Gestation Station?”
“Still noooooo…” she drawled pointedly. “You don’t have to give me a nickname, and we’re not a thing, you know.”
“How about ‘Roo’ since you’ve got a little ‘joey’ in the ol’ puddin’ pouch?”
“ENOUGH!” she snapped, tossing the spatula at him angrily. Lance curled his body, turning slightly away, laughing even harder now. “You are being ridiculous and disgusting at the same time. No wonder you are single – you are abhorrent! ”
“More big words?”
“SHUDDUP LANCE!”
“Awww, my little ‘Marsupial Mama,’” he chortled, holding up his hands defensively as he blew her a kiss, enraging her further. “What about ‘Pancake’? Cause a pancake ain’t done until it’s been flipped on both sides, and I distinctly remember flipping my woman,” and his words trailed off as his laughter echoed off the kitchen cabinets.
Stephanie let out an unholy snarl of disgust, turned to pick up a water-filled glass in the sink, complete with bubbles, and threw it at him. The glass bounced off his chest, shattering on the floor between them - only to see his smile falter as water dripped down his chest.
Oh crap , she thought, frightened. She had never gotten so angry or upset like this and usually took everything in stride, but he had really pushed her buttons. If you lumped together all the time she’d spent with him, including time sending emails and texts – it probably was less than a day. He was a stranger to her, despite claiming they were married – and in that instant, the water doused his uniform. She had a horrible thought. Is he going to hit me?
“Enough,” Lance said quietly, looking away from her. “I was just feeling playful with the person I admire the most.” Her mouth dropped open in shock at his words as he continued. “Go sit down on the couch, and I’ll clean this up, Stephanie.”
And he turned away from her, untucking his shirt to take off the wet garment. Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder, to apologize, yet something in her withdrew slightly, preventing that touch.
“Lance…?”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he began quietly, making her feel terrible. “Is it so wrong for me to want to be here, be around you, or for us to have some semblance of a relationship since we are going to have a child together? And before you say anything – I plan on being involved, so don’t start with the ‘ I’m pregnant and you’re not ’ comments.”
Silently, she curled her arm back to her chest, unsure what to say or do. There was glass and water everywhere – and she felt like such a harridan right now. Everything in her life, in her, was completely out of control, and it was like ‘ Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ in her brain and body.
Lance looked over his shoulder and hesitated. “Oh shoot,” he uttered, turning to her. “Come here, princess.”
Before Stephanie could say anything or protest, Lance had scooped her up bodily into his arms, carrying her out of the kitchen where the mess was. He didn’t say a word – and neither did she.
She clung to him, wishing it was a hug or something to tell her it was going to be okay, that he forgave her for being so prickly and emotional. His cologne was there, combined with the glimpse of tanned skin from where his shirt was half open… and hesitated.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly.
“There’s nothing to apologize for.”
“For being a raging lunatic?”
“It’s allowed when you are carrying my baby.”
And she scoffed tearfully as he set her down on the couch, kneeling before her. He took her hands in his, met her gaze evenly, and gave her a hesitant look before taking a deep breath and speaking.
“I know I’m going to push your buttons, but you are free to be yourself with me. That’s how we get to know each other – good, bad, or otherwise.”
“It wasn’t nice of me.”
“It wasn’t nice of me to keep poking fun at you.”
“You should be able to be yourself, remember?”
“You too… princess of mine,” he smiled softly, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it tenderly, just before she felt him chuckle against the skin. “And I’m not Elmo,” he began, his shoulders shaking as his lips twitched before he kissed her knuckles once more. “I’m more of a Snuffleupagus and we both know it.”
“Oh geez…” Stephanie muttered, yanking her hand from his and rolling her eyes in frustration.
The man was obviously wild and playful and wasn’t holding back around her. He wanted her to know him – and this was the real him. Quick, thoughtful, obsessed with the bedroom, and awfully saucy. There was always some line he was crossing, some comment to be made, but there was another side to him. One that was thoughtful enough to pick her up and keep her from injuring her feet even though she caused the problem. He was also insisting she rest instead of cleaning up her own mess.
Yes, Lance was a handful to deal with – but she was slowly starting to realize that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.