“Either you don’t like kids, or you didn’t like the idea of me having a kid.” He shuffles his feet. “I just wanted to tell you that I might not be able to hear, but I’m fully capable of taking care of a child. If I wasn’t, Paul wouldn’t leave her with me.”
He heaves a sigh, and then he turns to walk out of the door. I call his name, but he doesn’t hear me. So, I jump out of the shower and grab for the towel, letting it fall open in front of me, but I don’t have time to wrap it around me. I clutch it to my chest, and grab his arm. He turns back toward me, one eyebrow rising as he looks at me.
“It wasn’t that I don’t think you’re capable of taking care of her,” I say. “It wasn’t that at all.”
“Then what was it?” he asks.
It’s so hard to explain, but if I don’t tell him the reason it bothered me, he’ll go on thinking it’s because I think he can’t do the kid justice with his disability, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“I thought she was yours,” I say with my eyes closed. He tips my chin up with an insistent finger.
“What?” he asks.
“I thought she was yours,” I repeat. This time, I make sure he can see my lips; although that’s the last thing I want him to see me say. “I thought she was your daughter.”
He grimaces. “Again, I’m fully capable of taking care of a child. I can watch the lights on a monitor just like anyone else. And changing diapers doesn’t require my ears.” He’s irritated. And I can tell it. “She cries, and I can figure out what she needs.”
“It’s not that.” God, I’m so stupid. I bury my wet face in my hands and he urges them down, watching my lips. “I was jealous,” I admit. There. I said it.
“Jealous?” he asks. “Of Hayley? She’s three, for Christ’s sake.”
“I know.” I don’t know how to tell him. “It made me wonder what kind of a stupid woman would ever let you go.” And made me realize someone else has had him. Probably a lot of someone’s. A lot of someone’s I can’t compete with.
He chuckles, the air in the room lightening. “That’s all it was?” he asks, his voice incredulous. That’s not really all it was. I also wondered how in the world I would do sharing him with someone else. But he’s not mine to share, is he? Not really. Not at all.
I nod. “That’s all. It’s not because you’re deaf. I was just jealous.” I shrug. “I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” I want to tell him that I want him all to myself. But I’m not free to do that.
“I don’t have any kids,” he says. “In case you were wondering.”
The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind until I saw Hayley. “All right.”
“I want kids someday,” he says. His voice is soft and he’s looking into my eyes. “Do you?”
“I don’t know.” The idea of trying to help a kid of my own with homework, and spelling, and school is sometimes overwhelming to me. “I don’t think I’d make a great mother.”
His lips press against my forehead and he lays his hands on my naked hips. I draw in a breath. My hips are bare and his hands cover them completely as he pulls me toward him. The towel that was draped in front of me gets sandwiched between our bodies.
“I’m glad you came to talk to me,” I croak out.
He dips his head, and kisses the side of my jaw. I don’t even think about it; I tilt my head to give him better access. “I am, too,” he says against my skin.
I could say more, but he’s not looking at my face. He’s not looking at anything. His eyes are closed. His hands slide around to my bottom and he lifts me against him. “I have never wanted to have sex with someone I care about,” he says.
He’s hard against my belly, and I can barely think or take in a breath.
I lift up his shirt, and lay my hands on his stomach. The muscles ripple under my fingertips. I want to touch him. I want to touch him so badly. “Pretend I’m someone you don’t care about,” I say impulsively.
He must have seen my lips, because he stills. “You think I can do that?” he asks, his voice incredulous. He lifts a hand and runs it though his hair. “I don’t think you realize how very much I like you.”
He likes me a lot if the rather impressive size of him pressed against my stomach is any indication.
He must read my mind, because he sighs heavily, and says, “I don’t mean like that.” A muscle ticks in his jaw for a moment, and then he steps back from me, lifts the towel and wraps it around my naked body. “I’ve had sex. Lots of sex. But I’ve never had it with anyone who matters to me.”
He’s only known me a few days. “Why do I matter so much? What makes me different?” Now I’m dying to know.
He shakes his head.
“Tell me,” I prompt.