Page 33 of First Comes Marriage
“You’re tiny enough to straddle me, I think,” he muses, smirking at me.
Giving him a mock glare, I carefully crawl onto his lap, my legs stretched almost obscenely on either side of his thighs since helowered the arms on his wheelchair. I mean, I’m still in my wet bathing suit as well, for heaven’s sake. Still, he doesn’t seem to mind as he pulls me close then cups my face with his strong, calloused hands.
“I love you, Jolie, and I’m beyond thankful that you love me back,” he says, his voice husky. “We may have to wait for anything more than making out because of my current condition but being able to kiss you whenever I want will do for now.”
I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, I feel his soft lips graze against mine. The thought hits me out of the blue that I was enthusiastic in his care while he was unconscious and that I’ve been applying balm to his lips, so they’re no longer chapped. With his head slanted slightly to the side as he deepens the kiss, I drown into his embrace, sinking deeper into his arms. While I had a few random boyfriends in high school, I still have limited experience when it comes to love and romance, and absolutelynonewhen it comes to sex. That’s a conversation for future Jolie; I’m going to enjoy the euphoric sensations that are coursing through me right now.
As our tongues tangle, I find myself melting into his body. It may be a little bit broken for the time being, but despite the injuries that are still healing, and the fact he was in a medically induced coma for nearly three weeks, he still exudes a physical strength that makes me feel protected, safe, and secure. It’s something I don’t think I’ve ever truly felt in my entire life, and it makes me fall deeper in love with him.
He’s my rock. My person. My everything.
I do my best to pour all the emotions I’m feeling into the kiss, deepening it, and a tiny thrill goes through me when he moans, and I feel the rumble of his chest against mine. We kiss untilthere’s no oxygen left and we have no choice but to break apart. As he leans his forehead against mine, he murmurs, “You were the missing piece in my life, sweetheart, and I’m never letting you go.”
“I’m okay with that, Dex,” I reply, still breathing rapidly. “Now, how about we get you back into bed once I make sure the sheets have been changed, that is, then I’ll get into some dry clothes.”
“I don’t mind you prancing around in that bathing suit,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows, “but I’m pretty sure the air conditioning will give you a chill that’ll be obvious to anyone who enters. Yeah, now that I think about it, you should definitely change.”
I snicker because my nipples are already hard from our burning kiss and brushing against his delectable chest, but I know the cooler air in his room will elicit the same results. “Aye, aye, captain,” I sass.
He lightly taps my ass then helps me get off his lap, so I don’t accidentally hurt his legs. Once I’m standing upright again, I adjust my suit so my ass cheeks aren’t hanging out, open the door and wheel him back into his room.
These past two weeks, while Dex has been in the rehabilitation center receiving more IV antibiotics and starting more intensive physical and occupational therapy since his casts have come off, have been enlightening.
While I’m not allowed to stay with him overnight like I did when he was in the hospital, I’m there from the time he’s allowed tostart getting visitors until I go home to have dinner with Abuela, Nonna, Mindy, and the kids. He’s now getting regular visits from all of them, as well as Brock, which has improved his overall mood tremendously. I still haven’t broken down yet; I’ve been in survival mode, I guess, trying to make sure every little thing at the house is ready for when he can come home.
Which brings me to tonight. When I got home, I saw that Dale and his crew came over and put in a ramp for Dex’s wheelchair. Until he builds up more muscle in his legs, he’s regulated to one per doctor’s orders. He’s going to have an at-home physical therapist until he’s cleared to drive who will show him how to use a walker so that eventually, he’ll be using one of those then graduate to a cane, at least while he’s inside our home.
But that’s not all Dale did. No, the other bedroom that’s downstairs, which was empty because we weren’t sure what we wanted to do with it just yet, has been renovated with Dex’s needs in mind. Thankfully, Grampy had the foresight to make all the doorways wider when he built the house, so the wheelchair can go throughout the downstairs, at the very least. They redid the ensuite bathroom in that room so he has a roll-in shower with a built-in bathing bench, plenty of sturdy bars to grip, as well as a showerhead that detaches so he can hold it and not worry about trying to stand up.
It’ll give him a sense of independence that I know he sorely misses at this point. Granted, he’s grateful he’s still alive, as we all are, but for a man who’s been on his own for nearly two decades, having to be waited on hand and foot has to be chafing his nerves by now, if his growly attitude is any indication. The only time he’s even remotely calm is when I’m helping him shower, something I find I’m enjoying as much as he is, that’s for dang sure.
That could also have a lot to do with our heated makeout sessions, which have steadily progressed when we know no one will be coming in. A few times, we’ve been interrupted, but never when his hand has wandered below the belt, thank goodness. I’m not sure I could get over my mortification if we were caught. Just the thought of it has me outright blushing.
“They did good,” Nonna says, coming to stand next to me. “Maria and I will get the bed made when it arrives tomorrow, so it’ll be ready by the time you get home with him, okay?”
“Nonna, the two of you have been absolute godsends,” I tell her, leaning into her shoulder for a hug. “Taking care of the kids, the pets, the house. Neither of us had to worry about a thing with y’all here, that’s for sure!”
“Sweet girl, we wanted to take as much of the pressure off your shoulders as we possibly could. Mindy staying here helped a lot as well, although, she’s a little bit bossy,” Nonna replies.
I start giggling because it’s kind of like the pot calling the kettle black. Both Abuela and Nonna are very opinionated themselves, and from my conversations with Mindy, there’s been alotof spatula waving going on. “Nonna, you do realize that you and Abuela are kind of bossy as well sometimes, right?” I ask.
She chuckles and squeezes my waist. “Yes, we’re both well aware, but we’re so set in our ways, it’s not easy to do something different. But your Mindy had some good ideas that we’ve started using, even though we gave her a hard time about them.”
“I’m glad she was here to help y’all too. My focus has been on Dex and getting him to the point where he’s at home with us. I think he’ll do so much better being around his family, don’t you?” I question.
“Definitely. Plus, Josephine and I will work with his therapists to make sure we are feeding him the food that’ll help him heal even more,” she says as we make our way into the family room. With dinner done and the kitchen clean, it’s time to relax a little bit with the kids before we all go to bed because tomorrow’s going to be a hectic, crazy kind of day, that’s for sure.
“God, I’m glad to be home,” Dex says around a sigh as he settles back into his temporary bed. “This bed is far more comfortable for a hospital bed than what I had at the hospital or at rehab.”
“That’s because Bruce and I made sure that the mattress was the best one on the market. I know you’ll be rolling around here, but you still need a lot of rest and I want you to be comfortable, Dex,” I tell him from my position curled against his side.
Yes, the hospital bed is a larger one, so I can sleep with him. Not that I’m going to complain one bit. Before our relationship changed, we used to talk about our days once we were settled in bed. Even when he was at work, we’d FaceTime while I was curled up in our room and go over things. It’s one of the reasons he’s one of my best friends now; he’s never acted like anything I talked about was not as important as what he had going on.
With Dex, I feel seen, but more importantly, I feel as though I have value and worth. I knew it as a child and a young teenager thanks to my grandparents, but somewhere along the way, I lost that feeling. Probably in the group home when I was relentlessly bullied and teased on a daily basis. About my limp. About my scars. About the fact that I must be something awful since my whole family died.
However, not only does Dex treat me as though I’m something precious, especially now that we’ve both professed our love to each other, but he’salwaysbeen that way toward me.
“I’ll be comfortable simply because you’re in my arms, sweetheart,” he murmurs, squeezing me closer. “God, when I was waiting to be rescued, any time I was awake and alert enough to know what was happening, I prayed that I would survive so I could have this with you,” he confesses. “I had told Rex just before we crashed that our loved ones wouldn’t care how we came home, as long as we were alive.”
