He rose, retrieved her T-shirt and bra, and handed them to her. “If you wanna put yourself back together, I’ll fix us some plates.”
While Delaney dressed, he located the wineglasses he’d dropped. Thankfully, the thick carpet of grass had cushioned their fall. He filled them again, handed one to Delaney, and then turned his attention to the Dutch oven. Steam and the mouth-watering aroma of Mexican spices greeted his nostrils as he lifted the lid. He carefully removed the bundles wrapped in cornhusks and offered the first plate to Delaney.
Her eyes rolled back at the first bite. “I love these. Have you ever tried them?”
“Not Rosa’s,” he said.
“Then what are you waiting for?” she urged him with a grin.
He hated seeing women pick at their food. Delaney relished hers. He liked that about her. She took another big bite of tamale. Her moan of pleasure made his dick twitch. He shifted his stance, seeking some relief, a vain effort when all he could think about now was how it was gonna feel to be inside her. He sat down on the blanket beside her and took a bite of his food, but his mind was too preoccupied to enjoy it.
“So how exactly is this all gonna play out?” he asked.
“How is what gonna play out?” she replied, fork poised.
“The baby making.”
“Well, it’s pretty simple, Zac. First you’re going to go and get a fertility workup, similar to what I had several months ago. There would be little point in pursuing this if there were any fertility issues.”
Fertility issues? Zac watched her mouth moving, barely comprehending her words. He’d read somewhere years ago that the average man ejaculates two hundred million sperm in one load. He wondered why it took so many of the little fuckers to get the job done. What if his seed wasn’t up to snuff? That would be the ultimate humiliation.
“When was your last physical?” she asked.
“Physical?” Zac laughed. “Can’t even remember. I only go to the doc shop for repair work.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Don’t you get STD testing?”
He grimaced. “Haven’t needed to for quite some time.”
“What do you mean?”
His mouth compressed. “I haven’t had sex with anyone in months.”
“Months?” she repeated dubiously.
“Yeah. Six or more.”
“Six whole months?” She released a dry laugh. “For the record, it’s been over seven years for me.” The moment she said it, she looked like she wished she hadn’t.
“Wait a minute.” His gaze snagged hers and held it. “Are you saying you haven’t been with anyone since Ty?”
She slowly shook her head. “Nope. And no one before him either. I’m a one-man woman, Zac.”
Holy shit. One man? And celibate for seven years? In his world, she was practically a virgin. The idea excited and terrified him all at once. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so nerved up. Maybe it was just the idea that what he wanted most was finally within his reach. Delaney was practically his. He was scared shitless that he’d somehow fuck it up.
“Maybe now you can understand why I’ve had reservations about you and me,” she said.
“Do you think I’m not nervous about this too?”
“Why would you be nervous?” she asked.
“Maybe I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you?”
“Based on my experience to date, I doubt that very much,” she replied with a hint of a blush.
“I’m not talking about sex, Delaney. I’m gonna make damn sure you enjoy every minute of that. I’m talking about the rest. This is all new for me, and I want to get it right.”
“Me too, Zac,” she whispered back.
He took a sip of wine, wishing like hell it was whiskey. Sipping seemed such a pussy way to drink after a lifetime of doing shots. “You still didn’t answer my question about how we’re going to go about this,” he said.
She paused between bites. “Ah. I didn’t think that part needed a whole lot of explaining. If everything checks out okay then we’ll . . .” She rolled her eyes. “You know.”
“Wait a minute. You’re saying as soon as I get my results back we’re going to have sex?”
“Not exactly. We need to wait until the time is right.”
“And how are we supposed to know that?”
“As it turns out, I have an app for that,” she said.
He took another drink and coughed. “A what?”
“An app.” Placing her plate on the blanket, she retrieved her iPhone from her belt holster and began tapping and scrolling.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Consulting my Fertility Friend,” she replied. “According to the app, my next window of opportunity begins in six days.”
“What does that mean?”
“We need to have sex,” she replied. “As much of it as possible until I’ve ovulated.”
Did he hear that right? He shook his head, wondering if he was delusional. “Let me get this straight. First you won’t let me touch you, and now all of a sudden you want us to go at it like rabbits?”