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“Betsy…” he sighs with exasperation on the third.
“Just keep going before you say anything. Please.” I hate the anxiety bleeding into my voice.
When he’s opened them all and the six messages are spread out on the table, he flips them all over, surveying the collection with a furrowed brow. “Well, I can see why you might need a diagram,” he says cautiously.
I wait, my fingers clenched together.
“Betsy, sweetheart…”
My heart sinks. He doesn’t want me.
“Baby, you don’t know what you’re asking here,” he finally says with regret.
“What do you mean?”
He hesitates. “Ten years ago I was injured in a roadside blast. Every inch of my front from the waist to the top of my boots was hit by flying glass, Bets.Everyinch.”
He waits for me to catch on. But I’m still confused. “Are you trying to tell me you’re missing something you think is vital?” I finally ask, my brow furrowed. Because Heath is Heath and I want him just as he is.
“No… nothing’s missing but…”
“But?” Eventually I have to prompt him if I want an answer.
“Never thought I’d be attempting to explain this to a virgin,” he mutters under his breath. That makes me grin in a sort of dark humor kind of way.
“The scars aren’t exactly pretty. And where my skin… healed without them, there’s still nerve damage, Bets. Things… take longer than they did when I was twenty.”
“Okay, so?”
He rolls his eyes. “You should find someone closer to your own age, Bets. Someone that can… I don’t know how to say this gently. Comes with all the factory presets, I guess.”
That makes me giggle. “Heath, I can buy that on the internet. All the settings a girl could ever want. What I want to know is, can I convince you to give us a chance? And if that’s a yes or a maybe, how do I go about it? I already know your largest sexual organ is completely undamaged, so I’m really not worried about the rest of it.”
That stumps him. He stares at me in shock or disbelief.
Finally, I give a teasing sigh of disappointment. “Your brain, Heath. Where there’s a will, there’s a way and other similar shit.”
His jaw tenses while he studies me. “This is a lot for so early on a Saturday morning,” he finally says slowly.
I nod. “I couldn’t come up with a way to ease into it,” I finally confess.
Heath’s lips twitch. “No, I can see how that would be difficult. Any more surprises?”
I shake my head mutely, still not clear about how he’s feeling about my confessions.
3
Heath
“Let’s put this away for a few days and talk about it after Christmas,” I suggest gently to Betsy, knowing it’s not the immediate happy ending she was hoping for. Her mouth opens to protest, but then she shuts it abruptly and gives me a jerky, reluctant nod. I stand up ready to get going with the chores of the day, but she looks lost and lonely sitting there with her chin up. I can’t resist pulling her into my arms for a quick hug.
The last thing I ever want to do is hurt Betsy. So I can’t bring myself to outright reject her, even if I know that's probably what I should be doing instead of stringing this along. But I doubt very much that the reality of me resembles what she’s come up with in her imagination. Maybe if I give her a tiny taste, she’ll come to the same conclusion on her own.
Betsy softens against me, letting out this cute kitten sigh when I rest my chin on the top of her head. Her arms tighten around my waist, making me conscious of her sweet curves pressing into my chest. Something I’ve really no business noticing, even if we are technically married. I pull back slightly. “Come on, baby. The grocery store awaits. I’ll let you push the cart.”
No surprise, she grimaces with a small smile. “Gee, thanks.”
I take a minute to collect her project from the table and take all the pieces back to my room. It’s not like I’m going to forget her words anytime soon, but I might need to refer to something later. Betsy’s eyes widen slightly as I slide everything into the stocking, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, stepping into the entry to put on her coat.
