She supposed, if she ended up leaving Marty’s house, she could text Chrissy and see what she and Wyatt were up to. She sent a message to Mom to let her know she would be back late in case Mom got home first and became worried.
It wasn’t long before Marty returned, his arms full. Emma retrieved a bowl of popcorn from him and set it down on the coffee table. He then arranged a variety of boxed candy before pointing to a small fridge on the other side of the room. “There are all kinds of drinks in there, too, if you need anything. Whether it’s for here or the road.”
“Marty…”
He held a hand up to stop her. “Look, I know I play right into a stereotype here, but I hate being physically challenged. Going through therapy and learning to walk again was hard. Now that I’m here, I don’t particularly relish the idea of appearing weak. To anyone, but especially you.” He shrugged. “There it is.”
The lighting was dim, but Emma still saw some pink tinging his ears. It couldn’t have been easy for him to admit that. “So you think losing a leg makes you look weak to others?”
“Sometimes, yes.” He leaned against the back of the couch, his arms crossed in front of him.
Emma studied him for several moments. She, of all people, could understand where he was coming from. But if only he could see how untrue that was. “You could have moped around at rehab, come here and become a hermit.” She motioned to the room they were standing in. “It’d be tempting, and you are rich, after all. You could’ve hired people to shop and cook for you.”
Marty smiled and shook his head in disagreement.
Did he have any idea how cute he looked when he was embarrassed? “You could’ve given up and not learned to walk again. Even if you had, you could’ve gotten a desk job somewhere. Instead, you’re coaching kids. Proving to them that, no matter what, they can achieve anything they truly put the time and effort into learning.” She pointed to his leg. “If anything, that leg shows not only how physically strong you are, but the strength of your character, as well. Anyone who doesn’t realize that isn’t worth your time.”
The dim room did nothing to lessen the combination of relief, wonder, and something else that swirled in his eyes. He pushed away from the couch and took two steps forward, stopping directly in front of Emma. “You are something else.” He put an arm around her waist and tugged her close. “So if I promise to try and act normally, do you promise to stick around for another episode?”
His low, husky voice sent a shiver through Emma. She nodded. “It only seems fair…”
She’d barely gotten the words out before Marty leaned in, his lips caressing hers in a kiss that was as sweet as it was toe-curling. Emma rested one hand against his chest and sighed. He deepened the kiss then, holding her close in a way that made her feel cherished. Safe.
Time stood still until Marty placed one last kiss at the corner of her mouth and leaned back a little. “Whoo, girl. For the record, we’d better start the show before I just keep kissing you. Because that’s a real danger.”
Emma giggled as her own cheeks flushed. Yes, it would be easy to keep kissing him until nothing else mattered. And that’s exactly why they had to focus on something else right now. She walked around the couch and sat down.
Marty retrieved the crutch, leaned it against the arm of the couch, then took a seat on the cushion right next to Emma instead of leaving one in between them like earlier.
Without looking at her, he leaned over and pulled his left pant leg up to reveal his prosthetic. Emma watched as he unstrapped it and removed it from his knee. Then he removed what looked like a short sock to reveal the skin at the end of his leg.
A scar ran the width of his leg, while other small scars were scattered randomly above his knee. Emma resisted the urge to reach out and gently run her finger along it.
He set the prosthetic on the floor next to couch and released a relieved groan. “That’s better. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me.”
“Well, all the climbing and painting today was different even from what you do at the gym.”
Marty nodded. “True.”
“I’m glad it doesn’t normally cause you pain.” She leaned over and let her shoulder bump him. “By the way? You’re still just as strong.”
He shook his head, a tenderness in his gaze that had Emma catching her breath. “Come here, you.” He kissed her again as his thumb caressed her cheek. When it ended, he let his forehead rest against hers. “Thank you.” One last kiss to the corner of her mouth and he leaned forward to grab the bowl of popcorn. “Help yourself. There’s more in the kitchen, too.”
As Marty started the next episode, they settled against the back of the couch and shared the bowl of popcorn.
This was perfect—almost too perfect. There were many things he didn’t know about her. Many variables that loomed like giant speedbumps in her future. Their future.
But right now, she wanted to relax. Enjoy this time with Marty and pretend like all of these unknowns weren’t looming on the horizon.
* * *
Marty putthe empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table. They’d already finished the second episode of the two-parter and now were beginning another one. Marty was in no hurry to have Emma head home again, even though he was exhausted from all the painting and knew she had to be, too. In fact, he should probably insist she go home and rest after this episode so she didn’t end up too tired and not feeling well.
But they had an entire episode together first, and Marty was going to enjoy it.
When he settled on the couch again, he reached for Emma’s hand and threaded their fingers together. He could get used to this—spending evenings together, discussing the latest television show, sharing a bowl of popcorn. It was easy to imagine a time in the future when he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her at the end of the day, and that idea appealed to him more than he could say.
He ran his other hand over his left knee. He’d dreaded the day when Emma might see his leg. But there’d been no pity there. No disgust. Simply acceptance and reassurance.
