Chapter 11 #2
“Hold up your sleeve,” she replied simply. “You have a thread.”
He immediately held up both arms, looking for the stray thread because he was in uniform and didn’t want to appear sloppy – especially not when he was supposed to be going on his first date with Maureen and…
His brain seized.
“Oh gosh,” he rasped in alarm as she wrapped her arms around his waist, physically embracing him, and then laid her cheek against his shoulder.
He could smell the faint scent of something on her, and she was…
soft. Oh mercy, she was so soft and warm against him.
“W-What are you d-doing?” he stammered helplessly.
“It’s called a ‘hug’, your majesty,” she chuckled softly, almost tenderly, and he tensed even more if that was possible.
“When you crawl down from your high horse and walk among the ingrates who ‘eke’ out an existence down here – we tend to hug a lot to show happiness. Sometimes it’s done in greeting, during times of affection, or in sadness.
Frankly, I think people should hug a whole lot more in this world – but that’s just me. ”
“You’re h-hugging me…?”
“Well, I’m half-hugging you,” she chuckled again and shifted slightly, giving him a squeeze that left him breathless. “You could put your arms down or fold them around me, if you wanted to try hugging too.”
“I don’t know that,” he began and quickly lowered his voice. “I don’t know if we should do this so quickly.”
“It’s a hug – zero commitment from you is expected, I promise.”
“Maureen…”
“Would you quit arguing with me?” she grumbled and pinched his side. “Arms – put them down right now.”
He dropped both arms immediately as ordered, and then slowly moved to curl them awkwardly around her… until he heard her sigh. Tensing, he heard her chuckle once more as she patted him on the back, like he was a child.
“You’re doing good. That was a happy sigh of relief.
I like hugs, so feel free to do that at any time…
okay?” she mumbled, moving a little closer, if that was even possible, and he took a moment to absorb what was happening.
Gosh, it felt so good to hold someone, to hold her, and he put his head down slightly, putting them almost cheek to cheek as they simply stood there in the chaos of the baggage claim area full of people.
This was crazy.
They just met… and now they were hugging?
“You’re a good hugger,” she whispered – and heaven help him, he chuckled softly under his breath.
“You’re the first person to tell me that,” he admitted in embarrassment – and then tensed as he realized what he’d said aloud. “We should stop. People are looking.”
“Let them look. I’m not done yet,” she replied simply and then sighed again, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. “Best hugger ever. You know, if we sway just a bit, then we’ll be dancing together. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“I d-don’t think so…” he stammered nervously, feeling completely out of his element.
This was happening really fast. Sure, he was interested, but he thought for sure that this would be a visit where they talked and discussed the terms of their impending relationship – but she was now talking about them dancing? “We’re in public.”
“So?”
“So, it’s a little forward and… and…” he began, searching for the word to describe what he was feeling inside. He felt vulnerable, tense, afraid, and almost alarmed.
“You’re thick-headed and stubborn.”
“Are we back to the insults?” he stiffened, starting to pull back from her grip.
“I’m not insulting you,” she replied simply, running her hand up and down his spine slowly with slight pressure, making him relax once again.
“But I do see you, Melon-head,” she told him softly, shifting in his arms. Her breath now brushed against his ear as she spoke, giving him goose bumps.
“You’re all bitter and crusty on the outside, but I know how soft and sweet you are on the inside. You’re not fooling me, Eli.”
He withdrew slightly and turned to look at her.
Her hazel eyes met his boldly and searching, like she was staring straight into the abyss of his soul.
It should have felt uncomfortable, invasive, or alarming…
but it felt anything but that. There was a sense of belonging, a feeling of warmth that beckoned him, something unlike anything else he’d ever experienced – and it was like a balm instead of making him bristle or fight against it.
“I’m hungry,” she whispered to him, her eyes dropping to his lips, and that single statement sent a bolt of longing rocketing through him. “Let’s go have some enchiladas. What’s your bag look like?”
“I forgot to bring it,” he whispered mindlessly, falling into those depths that beckoned him like a siren’s song.
“Perfect,” Maureen replied gently, her hands moving from his back as she stepped out of his embrace slightly.
Then he felt it – soft and warm. One of her hands cupped his, folding their fingers together so they were now holding hands like a couple.
Her other palm moved from his shoulder and touched his cheek – and Eli was a goner.
“Let’s get you some regular ‘digs’ then.
I need you to relax. This is a whole new world I’m going to show you, flyboy. ”
And Eli couldn’t wait.
“I love this place.”
Maureen seemed so at ease; in fact, she was smiling at him as he sat there awkwardly in a pair of denim jeans that seemed so stiff.
Usually, he was in a flight suit or his uniform.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have jeans, but his old Levi’s were so buttery soft from years of wear, washings, and such that they just glided over his skin. These were new – and anything but soft.
Eli was also a little concerned about his suit wrinkling or someone breaking into Maureen’s car and stealing it.
It was lying in the trunk, carefully folded, and he didn’t want to think about the faces she kept making while he was trying to keep it from being ruined.
Didn’t she understand that the military was particular about their pressed seams?
He was an officer, and there was a certain image to uphold…
and she’s making that face again, he thought erratically, his thoughts derailing once more.
“What?”
“You look like there is a pin sticking you someplace special,” she offered, making a moue with her lips, her eyes dancing.
It was the same face she’d made when they got to her car in the parking lot of the airport and realized that he’d dropped the small bouquet of flowers inside of the airport.
He’d been so flabbergasted, so stunned by her actions, that he’d dropped them without realizing it, simply so he could return her hug.
“I don’t have a pin sticking me,” he replied in a hushed voice, snatching up the laminated menu from the table. “And why do you have to say things like that?”