Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vincent barely kept his mouth from dropping open.
He needed clarification.
If Lace was joking, he didn’t want to put his foot in it.
“You, uh, want to know which side of the bed I sleep on?” he asked, his voice coming out tight and strained.
Damn. Was that him? He’d faced down insurgents where fewer nerves had bubbled to the surface.
Lace blinked, suddenly fidgeting with her napkin on the table and looking unsure. But she eventually refocused her energies and answered. “Yes, Vince. I do.”
“Umm, for what purpose?” he asked tentatively.
How could he possibly assume that her brain and his were construing this question in the same way?
“For the purposes of being in bed,” she responded non-specifically, still giving nothing away.
Crap. Landmines gave better odds on dodging things without making an earth-shattering mistake.
“Can you be more…specific?” he asked, and yes, this time his voice did crack.
Lace dropped the bland mask she’d assumed and her mouth turned up into an interesting, perhaps provocative smile.
“I think you get the picture,” she teased. “But I’ll spell it out, anyway.”
Thank god she was taking pity.
Lace cleared her throat, purposely, going a bit over-the-top as she made a grand gesture with one arm that encompassed the kitchen and beyond. “I not only want you as a roommate,” she revealed, “I want you as a bed-partner.”
Well, that couldn’t have been much clearer.
Thank God.
She continued, slowly losing the grandiosity to end up looking…
uncertain again. “Although I’m not sure how much energy I have to put into sex at this point.
Unless you don’t want to. But I know I’d like to try,” she added swiftly.
“I’ve always enjoyed it. Sex, that is. Even with guys who I found weren’t overly skilled. ”
Oh, she would not have that problem with him.
Lace went on. “With you. This might be my last chance to—”
Her voice broke.
Vince reached out, picked up her hand and laced their fingers together firmly, giving her a “go ahead” squeeze.
She twitched like a nervous cat.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led with sleeping accommodations,” she apologized on a hissed-out breath.
“I told myself that before I went to that, I’d make sure you were fully informed about everything to do with my cancer crap.
I absolutely don’t want to pressure you into sharing my bed when you don’t have all the facts. ”
“Pressure me?” Vince repeated dumbly, then mentally slapped himself.
He needed to assuage her doubts. Stat.
“Lace, there’s absolutely nothing about sleeping with you that could remotely be considered a hardship.” He held eye contact with her, to let her know just how serious he was, and went for the same honesty they’d been sharing.
“I’ve been thinking about being with you, having sex with you, ever since I saw those beautiful brown eyes of yours focusing on me in the hospital.”
“Yeah,” she rebutted hesitantly. “So you’ve let on. But that was before you knew I was a cancer patient.”
“It was,” he agreed. “But the minute I understood what you were really there for, I wasn’t turned off. And since then, I’ve done my research, Lace.”
He switched tracks for a moment. “Did I ever tell you what my specific job was, as a Navy SEAL?”
“Uh, no,” she replied with a crooked smile. “Don’t you guys just…swim a lot?”
Damned cute.
He chuckled. “That’s part of the job. But specifically, I was an intelligence officer for my team, as well as a few others,” he informed her, not getting into specifics because that might open up a whole can of worms that he wasn’t ready for, yet.
“Do you know what that job entailed?” he asked.
“That you told people what to do?” she posited.
Yup. Adorable.
“Well, yes. That. But in the larger picture, I was the one who researched operations that were upcoming, guaranteeing all the intel was available to make things safer for our teams. One of the things we learned to say in the Navy was, ‘We don’t rise to the occasion, we fall to the level of our preparation’. And that was me. The preparer.”
He didn’t want to think beyond that.
“I bet you were really good at your job,” she told him, wide eyed.
His gut clenched. “Most of the time,” he confirmed darkly, trying not to get lost in his head, and marginally succeeding. “There were always things…”
Nope. He was not getting sucked down that dark hole right now.
Vince cleared his throat, and knew Lace was watching him shrewdly. If he wasn’t careful, she was going to ask questions, which is why he continued immediately.
“What I’m trying to say is, the minute I found out what you were facing, even though you’d given me a rough outline of what was going to happen, I read up on it.
A lot. I know all the ins and outs of breast cancer now.
All the possible pitfalls of your treatments, and I’m positive I want to be the one who takes that journey with you. ”
Lace sat there, opening and closing her mouth as if unable to respond.
“So,” Vince inquired softly. “How do you feel about that? And what was it you were going to say before? It might be your last chance to…? What Lace?”
“To have real breasts during sex,” she spit out as if it were a single word; or some kind of curse.
Which, in a way, it was. Curse was the exact label cancer should have.
Vince knew he was on shaky ground with how skittish Lace was. He approached her concerns, carefully.
“I’m not making love to your breasts, Lace,” he began. “I’m making love to you. A funny, smart, beautiful woman who makes me smile and,” he chuckled, “for some reason, sees me as someone special.”
He raised his brows in case she wanted to challenge that.
“Of course you’re special,” she told him breathlessly, dragged out of her own woes for a second.
“You’re the most fascinating man I’ve ever met.
A Navy SEAL who dresses up like a clown to entertain children?
A retired Vet who could rest on his laurels, but chooses to work in a mill and help out with a dive team?
A man who loves and respects his whole family?
” She scoffed. “You, Vincent Sothard, are a no-brainer.” Lace smiled as she finished.
“Well, maybe not my whole family,” he quipped, steering things to something he knew would make her laugh. “Kyle is a royal pain in my ass, and Trask is just one bossy son-of-a-bitch.”
Lace giggled, easily lighter now. “But you love them, and you’re lucky to have them.”
“I am,” he admitted, all joking aside. “But hear this, Lace. All my sibs and their wives who are familiar with you, are already poised to welcome you into our circle with open arms. And for the ones you haven’t met? I know they’re going to love you, too.”
Lace sighed. “And I’ll love them, as well,” she said definitively. “But we’re getting off subject. I need to know exactly how you feel about my body…changing.”
Vince shook his head, and quirked his mouth. “Don’t you remember me telling you that I’m an ass man? Is your caboose going to undergo any changes that I’ll need to take into consideration?” he teased.
She snickered. “Nope. The back end is not part of the overhaul. It will remain ‘original equipment’.”
“Well, then?” he postulated.
She bit her bottom lip. “Sometimes people say things—”
“I never say things I don’t mean, Lace,” he interrupted sternly. “And I mean what I’m about to say, with all my heart.”
His focus on Lace never wavered.
“I’m glad to have met you at this stage in your life.
I’m heartened to be a partner for you during all the shit that’s going to happen.
I can’t even imagine what you’ve already undergone, all alone until now.
” Vince didn’t even like to think about it.
“I promise I’ll be there for you from here on out, every step of the way. ”
“You can’t know that,” Lace whispered, her face crumpling in self-doubt.
“I can know that,” he told her with all the frankness he could muster. “I’m forty years old, Lace. I know my own mind. I’m not a kid who’s guided by whims.”
Maybe now wasn’t the time, but Vince wanted to let Lace know that he was no saint, because it had bearing on how he was feeling about her.
“Listen. I’ve played around my entire life; let an untold number of frog-hogs ‘catch’ me for a night of quick fun, but I haven’t felt anything for a woman in a long time. Not since my first, big love in high school.”
“What happened to her?” Lace asked in all seriousness.
Vince barked out a laugh. “It turns out she wanted to be a he.”
Vince shrugged. “It nearly broke my heart back then, but I knew I wasn’t interested in a testosterone-based relationship.
After a short mourning period, I took my head out of my ass and supported their decision.
They got all the hormone treatments, and surgically altered the body parts they didn’t like.
We’ve actually remained friends since then; on-line, anyway, during my deployments. ”
“That’s admirable, Vince.”
Vince shrugged. Breaking up had hurt at the time, but it had been for the best because…
“They’ve got a great partner now who really appreciates them, and I’m happy their life has worked out the way it was supposed to.”
Lace’s lips twitched, as if she’d found something funny.
“What?” he asked, confused at what might be amusing.
“So…your first girlfriend had their boobs cut off, and now, mine are the ones coming into question,” she threw out, her grin growing.
Vince couldn’t stop his answering bark of laughter. “I never thought of it like that. Do you think it’s me?”
“Well, you did say you’re an ass man, so maybe you’re giving off vibes?” she sassed cheekily.
“I’m not sure that’s a thing,” he returned with humor. “I’ll read up on it.”
A short silence ensued as they sat looking at each other over the table.
Lace finally broke the stillness with some more earnestness.
“I’m still not sure if I can commit to losing my healthy breast,” she sighed. “Or whether or not I’ll want reconstructive surgery.”
“What are the pros and cons?” Vince asked, because even though he’d dug deep into the subject, he really wanted to get inside Lace’s thought process.
“Well, I’ve heard that the surgery has to be done in stages most of the time; stretching the skin slowly to accommodate the implants over several operations.
The procedures also come with a fairly high risks of infection.
And the thing that makes me a little more skeptical whether or not it’s worth it, is that the implants don’t last forever. ”
“How long?” Vince questioned.
“Ten to fifteen years, then you have to get them replaced.”
Vince let that sit for a second, then asked, “And the pros to getting reconstruction?”
“A better body image. Clothes fitting more naturally.”
Clearly, she’d been thinking about this a lot.
Vince continued with his questions to give himself a better picture.
“And the prostheses?”
“Well, when you don’t wear it, you’re left with chest flatness either on one or both sides, depending on what you choose to do.
But on the positive side, there are no additional surgeries required.
And the cost is a lot less than the surgical augmentation, and normally covered by insurance, which isn’t always the case with the reconstructive option. ”
She grumbled, annoyed. “Both things have downsides. If you want to maintain a womanly figure, you’re kind of stuck with what’s available.
The technology for prostheses has come a long way, don’t get me wrong, but you still have to wash the damned thing constantly to keep it clean.
And from what I’ve heard in the support group I’ve attended, the stupid things slip out of position a lot, which means ‘adjusting’ your boobs when you might be somewhere that’s not exactly convenient. ”
Vince could sort of relate.
A hard-on in public carried the same kind of surreptitious re-arrangement requirements, but he wasn’t going to compare, because the reasons for each process were like peaches and bananas.
“It’s also said to be sweaty and itchy in all kinds of weather,” she continued. “Which would suck for me since I’m out in the elements all the time. And that’s about the extent of where my brain has taken me, so far.”
“That’s a lot to think about,” Vince told her solemnly. “But whatever you decide, I’m here to support you. Do you have to choose right away?”
“No. That’s one good thing, if there is anything positive in this debacle.
The cancer team recommends waiting at least six to twelve months after finishing with radiation if you opt for reconstructive surgery.
But if you change your mind at a later date, it can be done years after with no additional caveats. ”
“There’s so much to take into consideration,” Vince nodded, “but it’s good you have time to weigh your options.”
“Yeah. It is. But…” She chewed on her lip again, “…having you show up, telling me you’re serious about building something between us, has…complicated things.”
“How?” Vince didn’t want to be any kind of burden to Lace.
Her eyes closed and she looked…sad.
“Before you clowned your way into my life,” she stated gruffly with a wry attempt at a chuckle, “I was pretty sure I was going to go completely flat-chested. Both sides. No additional surgeries or prosthetics. Just me. Curve-less. But now… Dammit, I want to be a whole woman for you, Vince.” Her voice broke.
“Which is why I was daring to invite you into my bed. I want to do things with you before I’m… different.”
Vince knew that his next words might be the most important of his life, so he chose them carefully.
“Lace. Look at me.”
She still had her eyes closed, but opened them slowly.
They were brimming with unshed tears, and Vince hated that.
His thumb caught one errant droplet as it fell.
“I’m going to lay everything on the line here, and I hope you don’t think I’m crazy.”
Lace nodded, and Vince squared his shoulders.
“I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, but it seems like I’ve been waiting for you, forever.”
She looked hopeful.
“You heard me mention that I’ve done a lot of…sampling, over the years, so I know my own mind, and… Lace. I’ll give it to you in a nutshell. You’re it for me. The complete package.”
He sucked in a lungful of air.
“Now for the crazy part. And you can either scoff at it or embrace it.”
She kept her eyes on him, completely focused.
“I’m falling in love with you, Lace.”