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An hour later, Elana was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She had laid out her clothing, had rollers in her hair, and even put a thick layer of cream on her face, wanting to look her best for tomorrow. Her stomach was full of butterflies and…
Her cell phone rang.
It was plugged in on her nightstand and served as her alarm clock in the morning. Yanking it out of the plug, she saw the caller ID and answered it quickly.
“Hello? I forgot to text you…” she grumbled in sudden awareness.
“Yes, you did,” he chuckled softly. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’m nervous and worrying that we are making a mistake.”
“Not at all,” he began tenderly, his voice dropping as he spoke. “Look, I may not be the greatest guy and may seem like a heathen to you – but I’ve meant every word I’ve said, Elana. I want you to be able to trust me, to have a little faith in me, and believe that I’m gonna do everything I can to make you happy.”
“But why me?” she whispered emotionally. “That’s where I get stuck. I just don’t understand why you’ve suddenly become so settled on me.”
“Because I think you are beautiful – inside and out,” he murmured. “I see your smile and want to create another one on your face. I look at you and think, ‘Wow, that’s my girl’… I don’t want to mess this up because someday I really want to have us close enough where I can lose myself in your arms…”
“I knew it had to be about sex,” she interrupted flatly.
“Lose myself in your arms, holding you close, because you feel like home when I’m there,” he finished, and something in his voice stopped her from commenting. “I don’t have a home; my brother does, but I have a bunk and a locker. When I held you at your office, holding your hand, or looking in your eyes, I see where I’m supposed to be.”
Her eyes stung as she swallowed, completely bowled over by his words.
“I want my home to be in you – in your eyes, your smile, your laughter,” he breathed and then let out a nervous chuckle. “Not just in your panties, which I bet are adorable.”
“And there it is,” she laughed tearfully, but instead of being jaded or bitter, it was more of an acceptance that all of his sweetness came with shock value. That’s who he was – and it probably wouldn’t change.
No, it was taking the good with the bad – and she had her own flaws to contend with, yet he wasn’t questioning any of them. She was a skeptic, cynical, slightly jaded yet he was here, talking her through, because he knew she would be lying to herself, overanalyzing things.
“I want you for my wife,” he began. “Will you marry me tomorrow, Miss Elana Cole?”
“I will,” she agreed softly, closing her eyes.
“So,” he chuckled. “What are you wearing, kitten?”
And Elana laughed, realizing he was breaking up the emotional mood between them, trying to keep things light-hearted and realized she wanted to play along.
“Well, if you really want to know,” she chuckled and looked down at her faded cotton T-shirt and pom-pom socks as she kicked off the covers for the third time in an hour.
“Oh, I wanna know,” he encouraged huskily. “Tell your man all about it.”
“I’m lying here in thigh-high stockings, a garter belt, a negligee made of satin and lace…”
“No, you’re not,” he laughed softly, and the sound of awareness gave her goose bumps. “Tell me what you’re really wearing, because you look sexy in everything I’ve seen so far.”
“I’m not sexy now,” she balked, choking back laughter. “Right now, I’m pretty darn ordinary.”
“I love ordinary – tell me.”
“I’ve got a cotton T-shirt nightgown on that has a bleach spot along the hem… a pair of old socks, because my feet get cold sometimes – and they have a cotton pom-pom on the ankle.”
“Okay – now that’s hot. Pom-pom socks are a huge turn on for me,” he whispered. “Keep going.”
“I’ve got curlers in my hair,” she chuckled. “And a face mask on so I look pretty tomorrow.”
“I swear my blood feels like lava thinking about you like that,” and heard his softly-spoken curse as he drew in his breath, surprising her.
“You’re crazy,” she giggled, unable to wipe the smile off her face.
