Chapter 17
T he kiss had the potential to be explosive, but the monkeys began to chatter. Ethan and Amelia pulled apart to look up, and the monkeys quieted down. They reached for each other again, and the monkeys started to scream.
“These must be Africa’s famous chastity monkeys,” Ethan noted, and Amelia laughed.
“It’s probably for the best. It doesn’t seem like the most productive way to spend our afternoon.”
“If you think kissing is supposed to be productive, you’ve missed the point entirely. Kissing is about kissing.”
“Kissing is never about kissing,” she argued. “Kissing is a question. Is it going to lead somewhere? Is it going to end there? Am I connecting with this person? Is he connecting with me? Could I kiss this person every day for the rest of my life?”
“You have all that running through your head when you kiss someone?” he asked.
“Don’t you?” she asked
He snickered. “No. If I hear anything at all from my brain, it sounds like giddy laughter, or possibly someone chanting, ‘more, more, more, see how far you can take this.’”
“You’re trying to tell me you can kiss any random person without having feelings for her?” She curled her lip.
“Uh, yeah, duh,” he said.
“Gross.”
“Can I remind you that within the first fifteen minutes we met, you shoved me in a pantry and nearly kissed me unconscious?” he said.
“That was a blip. I told you I didn’t normally do things like that.”
“When you say not normally, how often have you done that?”
“Including with you?”
He nodded.
“Once. Stop grinning like that.”
“Or what? You’ll kiss me and make the monkeys scream?” he guessed.
“It might surprise you to know I have never lacked for male attention. I have never once had to pursue a man, they pursue me,” she huffed.
“If you think it’s supposed to make me feel less cocky that the woman every guy wants wants me, you clearly don’t understand men at all,” he said.
“You make me so mad sometimes,” she said.
“That’s passion, baby,” he said. He inched up her robe to rest his hand on her leg when a monkey took aim and threw a nut at his head. “Ouch. How do you have all the animals in Africa trained to protect your virtue, Snow White?”
“They’re not doing it on my orders. My mom must have gotten to them,” Amelia said. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. They lapsed into silence a while. The quieter it became, the deeper his thoughts grew.
“Amelia,” he whispered after a while. He wouldn’t disturb her if she was asleep, but she answered promptly.
“Are you whispering because you’re afraid of the monkeys?”
“No. Maybe a little. I have to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Do you actually understand what it would be like to be with someone like me?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t say yes automatically. You have to think about it.”
She paused. “Yes.”
He sighed. “I’m serious here. I’m gone twenty days of the month, and most of that time is spent in places where there’s a good chance I won’t come home again. Statistically, I’m already an anomaly because I’m still alive at the ripe age of twenty-eight. When I am home, I spend most of that time dealing with the emotional repercussions of my job. The rates of burnout, depression, suicide, substance abuse, and divorce are off the charts. We’ve already established I have no framework on how to be in a stable family. I have no idea how to be a husband or father. All I know is the job. I’m a terrible bet.”
“Ethan, I know exactly how many days of the month your work takes you away, and though I haven’t known exactly where you’ve gone, I knew it wasn’t sunny California for beach time. I realize how hard your job is and the effect it can have on you; I’m getting a taste of it right now. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m glad you do because the world needs men like you. But here’s something I know that you don’t, a secret I’m going to tell you: You live life to the fullest; you give a thousand percent to everything you do. And I know when you finally decide to commit and love a woman, you’ll love her with that same all-encompassing passion and devotion. And if it were me you chose to love, I would understand that whatever time we had together was special and unique, that we had lived and loved more in a short amount of time than most people do in a lifetime. Because the things you think make you a bad bet are the things that make you the best bet. Not the safest, but life’s too short for safety.”
“That was kind of the perfect answer,” he said. “Can you do one more thing for me?”
“What’s that?”
“Say it in French,” he pled.
She complied. He slid his arm around her, and she rested her head on his chest. “I could listen to you read a tax form in French and find it sexy,” he admitted.
“Come April, I’ll be sure to arrive on your doorstep with a stack of forms from the IRS, just to keep things spicy.”
“You probably would,” he said. He wouldn’t put anything past her. She yawned. “Go to sleep, Melly.”
“I don’t want to abandon you to keep watch alone,” she said, yawning again.
“You’re not abandoning me. I’m holding you. There’s a difference,” he said.
“Maybe just for a minute,” she said, curling toward him in a ball so her hands were fisted at his chest.
“Are you comfortable? I can shift, if you like.”
“I’m good, except the Kevlar. When I get home, I’m going to invent a bullet-proof vest that’s also good for cuddling,” she said. “Something warm and fluffy, perhaps in a jewel tone. Black is so last year.”
He placed her hand under the vest, on top of his shirt. She did him one better by weaseling under the shirt and pressing her palm to his abs. “There we go,” she murmured. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right? You’re not afraid you’re going to fall asleep?”
“I’m good,” he said, his tone brusque.
“Are you feeling okay? You sound a little hoarse, and your cheeks are kind of flushed.” Her thumb made a little circle around his navel.
“Go to sleep, Amelia,” he choked.
“I’m feeling a bit perkier.” Leaning closer, she pressed her lips to his neck. Overhead, a monkey took aim and bounced another nut off his skull.
“What are you hitting me for? She’s the one making the moves,” he hissed toward the trees.
Amelia laughed, withdrew her hand, kissed his cheek, curled back into a ball and rested her head on his leg. With a wary glance at the treetops, Ethan rested his hand on her shoulder.
“They seem okay with that,” she whispered.
“That’s because they can’t read minds,” he said.
She smiled, and a few minutes later she was asleep.