You observed Dwight’s cousin Mose squish at platter of beets with a hammer for a good ten minutes. Tiny pieces of the bright red concoction flew through the air and dangerously close to where you were standing pressed together next to the table. She grabbed your hand then, turning her face into your dark blue sweater and squealing quietly, as if her body knew the mess that would be left to clean later.
Immediately, you knew two things:
One: that this is the story you will tell your children the first time they turn their nose up to a plate full of vegetables.
Two: those children will also be hers.
After the “wine” tasting, the table-making demonstration, and a dinner composed of a year’s supply of beets, you felt a longing to go back to the irrigation room and inspect the scenery. You watched her from the bathroom as she laid your pajamas out on your bed, hers on her own. You brushed your teeth as she pulled her grey sweater off first, then her maroon top. They fell to the floor as you finished up. You crossed the room in two strides then, standing behind her and pressing your palm flat against her belly, bringing her close to settle into her neck.
She giggled as your lips touched her skin.
“Not before our bedtime story.”
You shivered as she ran her fingertips over your skin, leaning back further as you both listened to Dwight read from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. You had never read the book, but it didn’t matter much because all you could hear at that moment was the roaring in your ears and her soft breathing. You pulled your hand back slightly to brush your thumb beneath the underside of her breast, over her ribcage, feeling her aortic pulse bound strongly against you. High school anatomy taught you that was the spot to hear the heart the loudest; all you had to do to hear her heart was listen to her sigh as she relaxed further into your arms. Dwight spoke of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade; your mind was transported to Finland and Fiji. Winter and summer and all seasons and all things. With her.
You yawned in unison as Dwight reached chapter four, feigning sleep and bidding your hosts goodnight. As the door closed behind them, she waited a beat before turning in your embrace and pressing her lips to your ear.
“Let’s push the beds together,” she whispered.
You look down at her, eyes shining. “Obviously.”
You ran your hands over her skin, planting wet kisses against her neck, soft ones against her breast, licking her stomach and stopping against her inner thigh – everything she liked. Before you thrust your tongue inside her, you asked her what she thought about Finland and she laughed throatily.
“Did you know that Finland is the sixth happiest nation in the world?” she whispered.
You smiled against her thigh and delighted at the small noise she made as your fingers pushed inside her. “Show off.” Her sharp intake of breath shook you as she reached down to grab a fistful of hair. She moaned your name a bit too loudly and you pushed up her body to silence her with your mouth.
“It’s your fault,” she breathed as she smiled against your lips.
You thrust your fingers inside her once more and she stopped talking. She moaned into your mouth as she came, pulling you against her and inside her before you knew what was happening. The fact that you were down the hall from Dwight at that very moment did nothing to temper the feeling of sheer fucking ecstasy as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you deeper. Her eyes opened to yours then, wet and glassy and sparkling and you swore you could just die from the beauty of it. The beauty of her. The idea of her and you and forever and then you came too soon, moaning into her neck. You fell asleep sprawled across her, her hands in your hair, her legs pressed against you, your ankles dangling off the side of the bed. You didn’t care that all feeling in your feet would be gone by morning, you couldn’t remember a time that you were happier.
First, the loud banging woke you both up. Then, Dwight’s cries did the same. As she dragged her fingertips across your chest and whispered “your turn,” you thought again about those children and nights like this and forever and her eyes; your heart literally ached with the promise of it all.
