Old Brown Eyes

Once Upon a Time

"Bobby was thirty-seven when he died."

I turned my head to look at Rick's face as he stared up at the ceiling. I propped my chin on my hand and just listening, silently encouraging him to go on.

"So was my dad," he continued. "Both of the same thing: cardiac arrest. I always thought, for some strange reason, that I'd go at thirty-seven too."

My heart clenched. I leaned over and kissed him. "I'm so glad you didn't," I whispered.

He turned his head to look down at me and smiled. "Me too," he said softly. "I never imagined I'd meet someone like you. You're better than a dream."

Again, I felt that invisible hand squeezing my heart. Nobody had ever talked to me the way Rich did. I could hardly believe there was a guy who cherished me as much as he did. We were still downstairs on the sofa after our hot and heavy make out session that had lasted the better part of half an hour. The sun was quickly setting outside, another short, cold winter day in New Jersey. I realized that night would be approaching soon and that we would be sharing a bed again, only this time I wouldn't be passed out drunk. I bit my lip and lowered my lashes, contemplating the night ahead. Then I yawned. The day had really tired me out.

As if he could read my mind, Rich gently nudged me upright. "Wanna go up?" he asked.

I sighed, stretching. "Mmm-hmm," I murmured, in spite of my misgivings.

We went upstairs, turning out all the downstairs lights as we went. I grabbed my pajamas out of my suitcase and smiled shyly as I disappeared into the bathroom across the hall.

"See you in a bit," I said quietly, just before closing the door.

"Yup," Rich replied with a grin.

I ran the shower as hot as I could get it, then stepped underneath the steaming spray. I shampooed my hair, lathered up with my peach and orange blossom body wash and, without even consciously thinking about it, shaved my legs, armpits and every other part of my body I felt needed it. When I got out, I toweled off, blew my hair dry and brushed it until it shone, soft and silky. I reached for my pajamas, inexplicably wishing they were silky and sexy instead of soft utilitarian cotton. But then, who would have thought...?

After I was dressed, I did my facial routine like always and took one last look at myself in the steamy bathroom mirror before I went out, flicking off the light. I swallowed hard as I crossed the hall towards Rich's bedroom where the door was slightly ajar and I could see there was one dim lamp burning inside. I slowly pushed open the door and slipped inside.

Rich was sitting on his side of the bed as if he was waiting for me. He turned to look at me and gave me another one of his heart stopping smiles. He was dressed for bed but still wearing his glasses and there was a book in his hand which he set aside on his nightstand as soon as I entered the room.

"Hey you," he said in that soft, sexy, husky voice.

Suddenly I was struck with a fit of nerves and I clasped my hands together in front of me. "Um, Rich..."

How was I going to broach this with him? How was I even going to approach a discussion which not only involved intimacy with the man I had known face to face for only twenty-four hours but the logistics of...I mean, I wasn't even quite sure how a man of his size would...

Shit. Leave it to me, I thought to find myself in a predicament like this. It was so typical Hadley Baker!

But like the empath and sensitive soul that he was, Rich once again seemed to read my mind. He got up from the bed, his face turning serious at once. "Hadley. You don't have to be nervous. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do."