Chapter Fourteen

He’s cautious with her the whole next week. He walks to the door after dinner and kisses her quickly. Her arms ache when he steps out of them and she knows she has to make up her mind soon. Because she can see what it costs him and she knows it’s not fair.

You tell him you love him, you move here to be with him, and you send him home night after night frustrated and alone. How could you possibly do that?

She’s never been one for mixed signals, even if that’s what she told him way back in the beginning, that he’d read her wrong.

It was a lie, plain and simple. He reads her perfectly, he always had, and that’s what had made it so difficult.

No one had ever read her like that before. And she’s so unsure because she really only has one other person to compare him to.

Finally it’s Friday and somehow they both managed to get the day off. They head out early to beat the traffic.

They sing along to cheesy 80s music the whole drive up. He thinks she looks like a postcard of New England in her long white shorts and striped t-shirt. Her face is framed by a floppy hat and he’s reminded again what a sucker he is.

How do you possibly think you’ll be able to keep your hands off her for forty-eight hours?

The check into the bed and breakfast and though it pains him he’s tempted to ask for a double room. Instead he decides to be cautiously optimistic. He’s gone camping most summers so he figures a hardwood floor is not much different than the dusty floor of a tent.

Finding another place to sleep would be easy, but listening to the sound of her breathing, being in the same room for two nights and not touching her is something he’s not sure he can take.

They spend that first afternoon at the beach, dozing on and off in the sun. She nudges him to turn over when his back gets a little too pink. As she runs her hands gently over his skin to spread sunscreen, and she hears him suck in a breath she’s still nervous, but she desperately tries to push those thoughts aside.

Why the hell are you waiting again, Pam? What are you so afraid of? It’s gotten to the point where she can’t even explain it to herself.

He watches her carefully as she sketches the shoreline, adoring the way her tongue sticks out a little when she’s concentrating really hard. And before he can stop himself he’s picturing a little girl, with her eyes and his smile scribbling with crayons, wearing the same look on her face.

He buys her an ice cream cone as they walk back to the inn. He gives the college kid behind the counter a huge tip. He explains to her why - that he knows what it’s like to be broke and need beer money. She laughs and calls him the ultimate humanitarian.

They stop in front of a small shop in town, one that features works of local artists and he stands behind her and curls his arms around her waist as they admire a painting in the window.

He presses a kiss to her neck as he whispers, his voice certain, “Someday - that’ll be you.”

And in the end it’s just that simple. Just like that, she knows there’s nothing to be scared about. Sure - it’s different now. Sure - it’s not like before. But there’s no reason to think it won’t end up OK. Because she knows, that it’s just…Jim.

As she links her hand with his and walks along beside him the decision is finally made. She knows all at once how silly she’s been. There’s no need to wait any more.

They’re stuck in tight quarters, the little room is much tinier than the brochure promises. He showers first and then sits on the edge of the bed. Her breath catches when she sees him waiting there, with his cheeks reddened and the sleeves of his freshly ironed shirt rolled up to reveal the beginnings of a suntan. His hair is damp and it darkens his collar and she wants nothing more than to run her hands through it.

Not knowing what she’s thinking, he smiles as he watches her getting ready, throwing her hair up in some sort of clip, standing at the mirror in her bare feet.

He falls more in love every second.

His hands shake a bit when he helps to zipper her dress, indulging himself with a quick trace of his fingers up her spine before he completes the task.

Her stomach tightens and her heart beats faster and part of her wants to turn around and tell him to forget dinner entirely.

But instead they go out and sit on a deck over looking the water. She’s thrilled that he’s decided to order soft shell crabs on a Friday, breaking his continuous pizza streak. She’s has the most incredible lobster and three glasses of wine. Halfway through dinner she slips off her sandals and slides her foot up his bare calf. As she does she keeps her eyes on his face the whole time. He doesn’t react at all, just continues with the story he’s been telling. Her foot slides higher as the waitress comes over to ask about dessert.

For what seems like a full minute they sit there and stare at each other and she gets no reply.

“Just the check.” Jim finally manages.

He can’t remember how they walked back to the inn, or how they got upstairs, or how they got the door to the room open.

He can’t remember how her hair came undone, or how her dress ended up in a pool at the end of the bed. And he can’t believe he’s never noticed before the scraps of silk she thinks qualify as underwear.

He can’t remember what happened to his shoes or his belt or his shirt or his shorts but they’re nowhere to be found.

All he knows, all he sees, all he feels now is her.

Pam.

She sighs and arches against him. Her hands are everywhere, her mouth is everywhere and it’s just like he’d imagined it would be.

Except, better. A thousand times better.

He doesn’t know how he managed to finally get her to this place, he doesn’t know what changed her mind, but now he knows he’ll never be able to think of colonial four poster beds without remembering the way she looks gazing up at him the way she is right now.

He keeps waiting for her to tell him to stop, to wait, to hold on but she never does. Instead for the first time she pulls him closer and wraps her legs around his waist and by then it’s too late for him to stop anything.

Her eyes are on his and she watches his face and she cries again, but for a different reason this time. Because this time it’s so perfect, so beautiful…so right and she can’t believe that out of all the people in the world he chose her.

But he did.

And she still has no idea why she waited so long.

The window is open and a breeze flutters the canopy above them and if they were to lie very still they could almost hear the sound of the ocean.

But he doesn’t notice anything else at all. The only thing he can see is her face and the only sound he hears is her gasping his name as she trembles beneath him.

And he knows, with all certainty, that it’s all he’ll ever need.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

“If it’s a Bed and Breakfast…” She murmurs. “…does that mean they’ll serve us breakfast in bed?”

He’s been up for a while, strumming his fingers up and down her spine, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, relishing in the feel of her skin against his. She’s soft and warm and…perfect.

“Nice try, but I sincerely doubt it.” He chuckles.

“That’s false advertising.” She says in a huff as she tilts her face up to look at him. “Hi.” She whispers, sleepily.

“Hi.” He smiles back at her.

“We don’t suck at this either.” She yawns as she turns her head again, her hand sliding up to rest over his heart.

It starts to beat faster as she runs her toes along his calf again. “Nope.” He laughs.

“It’s a shame we’ve been stuck on the amateur circuit.” She says with a sigh. “I think we should go pro. Is there money in this?”

He thinks for a second. “Yes. But it’s not for the camera shy.”

“Sorry. I’ve had enough of cameras to last a lifetime. Too bad.” She smiles as his hand moves down to the small of her back, pressing her closer. “I think we’d have quite the career…”

She’s joking with him, so he doesn’t know if he should say anything, if he should just take what just happened for what it was. That maybe talking about it might change things. As he’s debating with himself she starts to speak again.

“I’m sorry.” Her lips move against his skin as she ducks her head.

He knows what she’s trying to say but still he hears himself ask. “For what?”

“For making you wait. For being…so…I don’t know…” She sighs and traces a pattern across his chest.

“It’s OK.” He leans close and whispers against her lips.

She eases back and leans her head on her hand and regards him closely. “You are unbelievably understanding. Can you really be this perfect?”

“My perfection has been implied.” He says with a grin. “But I’m sure you’ll manage to find some sort of flaw in me.”

She thinks for a moment. “You’re right. There are a few signs of imperfection.”

A few? He’s actually surprised. “Oh yeah? Such as?”

“Your obsession with ironing…” She begins.

“Hey. You don’t complain when I do yours...”

He has a point. “True. OK. Here’s something else. Your fascination with paprika. It’s not a universal spice, Jim. You need to branch out…”

He looks genuinely hurt. “Emeril uses paprika.”

She shakes her head at him and gives him a look. “Um, hate to break it to you. You’re not Emeril.”

“That’s the last time I cook for you Beesly.” He warns her. “Anything else?”

She pushes her hair out of her eyes as she adds. “Oh. Of course, there’s always the freakishly tall thing.”

He stares at her with disgust. “Oh sure. Fine. Mock me now. I don’t know, somehow it’s been very handy for you when you want me to change light bulbs.”

She sighs. “Alright. You have a point. OK. I give up. You are perfect.” She giggles as she closes her eyes and curls into him again.

He buries his nose in her hair and pulls her closer. His fingers trace along her spine and she shivers.

A few long moments later she shifts and presses a kiss to his throat. “You really are perfect Jim and I know for a fact that I’m not. That’s honestly part of what took me so long...” She whispers. “I keep thinking once you find that out you’ll change your mind.” He’s alarmed when he feels her tears on his skin. “I wouldn’t be able to handle that. I mean, now that I know…”

Before he can say anything she rests a hand on the side of his face and adds. “I can’t even believe how much I love you.”

And this is it. This is all he’s ever wanted, all he’s needed, all this time.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He replies with a smile, holding her closer still.

All morning she’s been waiting for him to say something…to say something…more. Now that she’s said something herself, she can’t believe that’s the best he could come up with.

“Oh my God. You did not just give me the equivalent of ‘Ditto’.” She pulls back, her gaze incredulous.

“Hey. Easy there, Demi.” He laughs loudly at the look on her face.

She is not about to give up. “Are you kidding me? We were having a moment. I just told you how much I love you.” She gives him a look of warning. “I’ll give you one more chance. Say something better.” She says as she shoves him.

He raises his eyes to the ceiling before making a decision.

“You had me at hello?” He tries again, biting back a laugh.

“Jim.” She digs her nails into his shoulder.

“You can’t handle the truth!” He says, in all seriousness.

She stares at him and he’s afraid, truly afraid for his life all of the sudden.

Smiling widely, he turns and pins her onto the mattress. As he gazes down at her, there is only one thing that fills his mind, random movie quotes set aside. His voice is soft and travels across her skin as he says, “God. I am crazy about you Beesly. I’m flat out, full on, insane about you.”

She gazes up at him with tears in her eyes and he knows he’s picked a winner. And as his lips move over hers he swears he hears her laugh and whisper. “Ditto.”