The Proposal (13 page)

“Oh Em, seriously? Quit acting like I’m some pervert
getting off at this.”

That little flicker of hellfire sparked within her
at his exasperation. Her hands then went to the waistband of her underwear, and
she ripped the panties down her thighs as best she could with her belly getting
in the way. Meeting his surprised gaze she strode over to the shower and sat
down on the chair. “I’d like my vanilla body wash please and the pink sponge. Thank
you.”

His chuckle echoed off the bathroom walls. Sticking
his hand in the shower, he gave her the body wash. “I already put your shampoo
in there.” He closed the shower door behind him. Emma didn’t dare glance back
to see if he’d dropped his boxers or not. “Want me to wash your hair?”

“You seriously want to do that?”

“Of course. Besides it’s not like you’re going to
let me wash the good parts anyway.”

A giggle escaped her lips. “I thought you were going
to behave,” she protested.

“I am. That’s why I want to keep my hands busy with
your hair.”

“Fine then.”

Taking the shower nozzle, he brought it to her head,
soaking her hair. Once it was fully wet, he squirted the peach smelling shampoo
in one hand and then worked up a lather.

She couldn’t help moaning as his fingers massaged
her scalp. “Oh God, that feels so good.”

“I’m glad you like it. If I end up getting fired for
taking this time off, maybe I have a future in cosmetology.”

Emma laughed. “I can’t quite see you doing hair for
a living.”

“Me either.”

“You know, you washing my hair like this reminds me
of
Out of Africa
when Robert Redford washes Meryl Streep’s hair,” Emma
remarked.

“My mom loved that movie.”

“Really?”

Aidan laughed as he started rinsing her hair. “Yeah,
she loved anything with Robert Redford. She used to say he reminded her of a
blonde haired version of Pop.”

“Oh my God, now that I think of it, Patrick does
look a little like Robert Redford!”

“I can’t believe he hasn’t already mentioned it to
you. It used to give him a big head.”

“Hmm, an inflated ego? Sounds like a Fitzgerald
family trait.”

“Ha, ha,” he replied. When Aidan’s fingers ran over
the ridge of her scar, she tensed. “Em, what’s this?”

The sponge she had been bathing with fell from her
hands and onto the tile floor. “It’s nothing. Just an old war wound.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing.” Aidan’s hand left
her head and came to rest on her shoulder. “Tell me.”

She hugged her arms around her chest. “It’s a
reminder of a very painful time in my life when I did something very stupid.” When
Aidan’s hand remained frozen on her shoulder, she sighed. “After my mother
died, I was so alone. My grief for Travis was still very fresh. There was no
husband, no father, no mother...I couldn’t see through the dark clouds that I
still had Grammy and Granddaddy.”

A tremble ran through her body as she let the
skeletons of her past dance precariously around her. “One night when I was in
the mountains, I got up in the middle of the night and got into the car. I
started flying over those curvy roads, hoping another car would come along, and
I could end it all.”

“Oh God,” Aidan muttered, his hands squeezed her
shoulders tight.

She glanced back at him. “I slammed into a tree
instead. And even though it totaled the car and gave me that horrific scar, I
walked away.”

“Was that the only time you tried to…” She could
tell he couldn’t bear to say the words.

Emma gave a quick nod. “After that night, I knew it
was meant for me to stay alive—to try to live a happy life for my parents and
for Travis. I found a really good therapist, and she, along with my family and
my faith, helped me through it.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” He leaned over
and planted a kiss on the crown of her wet head. “You’re the most amazing woman
I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You really are.”

“What I did was really stupid and selfish and —”

Aidan shook his head. “I’m not going to judge you,
Em. I’ve never had to go through the hell that you have. I’m just glad you’re
here.”

“Thank you.”

He turned off the water. Glancing back at her, he
asked, “All clean?”

She laughed. “Yes, all clean.”

He opened the shower door and went over to get her a
towel and her robe. She was glad to see he still had on his underwear. Although
with it soaked through, she had a very fine view of the imprint of his ass.

Rolling her eyes at her out-of-control hormones, she
turned her gaze back to the tile. When he handed her the towel, she started
drying off her arms and legs. He pulled her hair up and wrapped another towel
around her head.

“Are you getting hungry?”

“Umm, hmm,” she murmured as she slid into her robe.

“What sounds good?”

She arched her brows in surprise. “You’ll fix
anything I want?”

“Yep. Or go out and pick it up.”

“How about some of your shrimp scampi?”

Aidan nodded. “While you’re drying your hair, I’ll
fix it and bring it to you.”

“Are you going to bring it on a silver tray with a
rose bud in a crystal vase?” she asked, with a grin.

“Always that mouth,” he muttered as he headed out of
the bathroom.

Emma giggled as she got out her hair dryer. She
eased down on the toilet seat before Aidan could order her to do it. Once her
hair was dry, she slid into a pair of pajamas and got into the bed. Beau
happily climbed up beside her.

She eyed a stack of books on the nightstand before
reading through the titles. They were predominantly nonfiction, self-help
books. She picked up one of her favorites,
Tuesdays with Morrie
, and
began rereading.

Aidan appeared a little while later with a tray with
two plates and two drinks but sans the crystal vase and rose. She sniffed
appreciatively. “Oh God, that smells so good!”

“Thank you.”

She eased up in bed and took the tray. As Aidan
grabbed his plate, she motioned to the nightstand. “What’s up with the reading
material?” she asked.

Pink tinged his cheeks. “Oh, um, well, those were
recommended by my therapist.”

Emma choked on the bite of scampi she had taken.
Once she recovered, she asked, “You’re in therapy?”

He nodded, turning his head from her intense gaze as
he sat down in the glider. “How long have you been seeing a therapist?”

Staring at his plate, he nudged a piece of shrimp
around with his fork. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He snapped his gaze up to meet hers. “I made an
appointment the morning after I epically screwed up my life and yours.”

“I see.”

“I really like Dr. Leighton. She’s really helping me
work on a lot of things.”

“How often do you go?”

“Three times a week.”

Emma gulped. “That often.” Even when she was dealing
with her immense grief, she only went twice a week.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I asked for the most
intense program because I wanted to fix myself as fast as I could…for you and
for Noah.”

She couldn’t still the rapid beating of her heart.
He wanted to be a better man for her—to right all the wrongs he had done, and
most of all be everything she wanted and needed him to be. Part of her wanted
to reach over and hug him tight—to tell him that her heart still belonged to
him and always would. But she couldn’t. She was too gun-shy.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he suddenly asked. When she
gave him a skeptical look, he grinned. “Your pick, I promise.”

Her mind whirled with the possibilities. “
The
Sound of Music
.”

Aidan winced. “Christ, do we really have to watch a
musical?”

“You said my pick!” she countered.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered, digging into the mammoth
box of DVD’s he had brought from her house. Once he found it, he popped it into
the player and then grabbed his plate. He eased in the bed beside her rather
than back in the glider.

“How’s the scampi?”

“Mmm, delicious.” She grinned at him. “I sure hope
you made more.”

He chuckled. “In your condition, I figured it was
best to double the recipe.”

“Oh my hero,” she replied.

“Let me guess. Your hero is going to be marching his
happy ass back to the kitchen in a minute to get you another plate.”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “Yes, but I’ll be
sweet and at least wait until you finish eating first.”

“Angel of mercy,” he muttered through a mouthful of
scampi.

Giggling, she flipped on the TV. As the opening
credits began and Julie Andrews started twirling and singing on the
mountaintop, Emma snuggled the blanket closer to her and sighed with
contentment.

“You really dig this shit, don’t you?” Aidan asked.

She glanced over at him. “What if I were to tell you
I played Maria my senior year in high school?”

Aidan swallowed hard. “You mean you wore a nun’s
costume?”

“Of course I did.”

He licked his lips. “Damn, that’s hot.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Aidan chuckled. “Sorry babe, but every man has his
fantasies.”

“You fantasize about me in a nun’s costume?”

“Actually you in anything…or nothing,” he replied
with a wink.

“Whatever,” she mumbled as she fixated her gaze on
the screen and not him.

After another plateful of scampi, her eyes grew
heavy. When she glanced over at Aidan, his eyes were glassy, but she wasn’t
sure if it was from exhaustion or being forced to watch a musical. She nodded
off just before the Von Trapp’s escaped into Switzerland.

When she woke up, it was dark outside. Glancing over
her shoulder, Aidan wasn’t beside her anymore. The sound of the shower running
alerted her where he had gone. Peeking at the clock on the nightstand, it was
just after six.

Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head before
pushing herself into a sitting position. Shifting her body made her bladder
scream for release. Nibbling her lip, she gazed at the closed bathroom door.
There were two options: bust in on Aidan’s shower or be a coward and go down
the hall to the half-bath in the foyer.

She shook her head at the thought of walking so far.
With a heavy sigh, she hoisted herself out of bed. Beau slid off beside her.
“Hang tight, boy. I’m not going far.”

He ignored her and continued by her side as she
padded into the bathroom. Steam enveloped her and momentarily clouded her
vision. Just as she started for the toilet, Aidan shut off the water and
stepped out of the shower in all his naked glory. Her eyes met his shocked baby
blues before her gazed dropped below his waist. Her pregnancy hormones kicked
into overdrive at the sight, and she licked her lips.

“Are you done ogling my package?” he asked,
amusement vibrating in his voice.

She reluctantly jerked her gaze up to his. “Wait,
what?” she asked. Then mortification rocketed through her, and she quickly
ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I needed to pee.” She sidestepped his dripping
wet, naked form and headed for the toilet.

Aidan laughed at her embarrassment. He grabbed a
towel, but instead of wrapping it around him, he took his time drying off his
arms and chest. Emma ignored him and focused on relieving her bladder. Once she
was done, she went to the sink to wash her hands. She rolled her eyes when
Aidan still hadn’t covered up.

“What sounds good for dinner?” he asked.

Keeping her gaze on the vanity, she said, “Anything.
I’m starving.”

“Seriously?”

She laughed. “You better get used to feeding my out
of control appetite.”

“I can try,” he mused as he finally wrapped a towel
around his waist. “How does pizza sound?”

“Mmm, heavenly.”

“Then I’ll order in some pizzas.”

She giggled. “Yes, you better make them large. Ooh,
and get some Cinnamon Bread too!”

“Okay then, I will.”

“Can we watch more movies?”

Aidan shuddered. “More chick flicks?”

Emma poked out her bottom lip. “Pwease?”

He rolled his eyes. “I guess so.”

“Aw, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried,
throwing her arms around his neck.

With her mouth inches from his, she quickly turned
her head and kissed his cheek. He stared intently at her for a moment. “All
right. Enough of that. Get back into bed and off your feet.”

“Yes Drill Sergeant,” she sighed.

As she started out of the bathroom, he popped her
ass playfully. When she glanced at him over her shoulder, he shook his head.
“Always you and that mouth!”