BMB: Version 3-1

"Ready?"

"Yeah, we have a dessert to split!" Tom answered and laughed when he saw the look on my face. "Besides, it's getting dark which means there'll be bugs, especially if we turn on the lights. Let's go inside to relax, eat, and keep talking." He stood up and maintained his hold of my hand. I got up and smiled as he led me inside the house.

Over dessert, we talked about things we'd do over the two weeks. I asked if we'd run out of things to say. He told me it was impossible. Then he set his fork down and sat back.

"Trin, if at any time you don't want me here anymore, I need you to tell me," he instructed. "I know this is super random and nothing you'd have planned. Plus, you hardly know me, well, you know what I mean. We have chemistry. It's obviously there. The connection is unavoidable, but I need you to promise me you'll speak up. I'm telling you right now that I won't be offended or fight it. This is your house. OK?"

"Tom, I doubt that will happen."

"Good, that would be awesome, but promise me, please. I can already tell you for sure that I'd never intentionally hurt you, with my words and especially with my body. But should you feel uncomfortable with me here, just tell me."

"OK, Tom," I conceded. "I promise to speak up. And you'll tell me if you'd feel more comfortable at a hotel?"

"I owe you honesty as well, so yes," he promised. I took our dishes and placed them in the sink before turning out the lights and walking him into the living room to sit on the couch.

"There are a few things I want to share with you," I confessed. "Can we talk about them to get them out of the way?"

"I think we can talk about anything," Tom answered.

"OK, um, well, first, I'm going to be honest and admit that I'm kinda purposely leaving out where I'm moving to and what my next job will be. And I've noticed that you haven't told me where you're from. And that's a good thing.

"Tom, I went from living at home right up until I got married at 21 and bought this house with Mark. I've been on my own since becoming a widow, but I've never really made it on my own. I'm not just moving across town. I'm moving to a new city, state, and job where I don't know anyone and will be purchasing my own house and opening accounts in my own name for the first time. I'm nervous to share that information because I could easily be talked out of it. I need to do this for myself. I need to experience this for me."

"So, wait, these two weeks are going to be what exactly?" Tom asked.

"I don't know. I've been a widow for over a year and have never been in this situation. I've had no desire to meet anyone nor interest in seeing who or what was out there. The bar? Tonight? That was a first. And you? You were unexpected from the beginning with your whole swooping in and rescuing thing, and then we kinda just hit it off out of nowhere. And the funny thing was that I didn't think. I didn't worry about the two weeks or how unlike me it was to feel so carefree around someone I'd never met before. And I haven't regretted it yet."

"Can I play some music?" Tom asked. "Would that be alright?" He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and clicked on an app. Soon, there was soft music playing. "Do you like to dance?"

"Are we talking spin around the room and could be on Dancing with the Stars kind of dancing, or middle school sway back and forth?" I asked teasingly as he took my hand and stood us up from where we had been sitting on the couch.

"I was thinking high school with hands on hips and around the neck, but yeah," he teased back and brought my arms up to rest on his shoulders. I brought him closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. He followed suit by bringing his arms around my back.

"Mmm, much better," I said quietly and laid my cheek on his chest. My mouth was basically against his neck, or it would have been if I'd have allowed it. Gosh, he smelled good.

"What is it about dancing?" Tom asked thoughtfully.

"I don't know," I responded and smiled as I knew my words were ricocheting off his skin. "I think it's like a hug. You know how hugs can have different meanings? A quick one when you haven't seen family for a while or wish to just greet someone without dealing with a handshake. A longer one with someone who just lost a family member or their job. A lingering one when a boy meets a girl and doesn't want to let go at the end of the night because that would mean the date has ended."

"So, we're hugging?"

"Kinda, well, I mean, yeah, but the dancing has different meanings too. Brothers and sisters can dance and just enjoy a quiet chat at a wedding. Fathers and daughters have that special daddy's girl bond to them. School dances either have the innocent 'boy meets girl, boy might like the girl, boy gets a chance to touch a girl, hopefully appropriately, and boy gets with the girl,' type thing, or more likely in high school is the 'boy and girl are together and get to press their bodies together' type dances."

"Huh," Tom said thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about it that way. I think I'm going to ask you to hug with music from now on. If this is how our first dance is going, maybe I'll get to experience the high school version by later on tonight."

"If you play your cards right," I answered and laughed. "Oh, my gosh, I don't know what has gotten into me. This is just so much better than I could have hoped for tonight to go. I figured I'd have one drink and then a few diet drinks to round out my night and then come home, put on my jammies, and go to bed by nine."

"Did you want to go put on your jammies?" Tom asked and laughed when I did.

"No, I'd like to just keep doing this, I think," I told him as I cupped my hand around the back his neck to run my fingers up into his hair. "You'll have to tell me when you want to stop. I'm a sucker for dancing."

"I guess we'll see. I'm rather enjoying this myself. Do you like the music?"

"I love this stuff," I answered and shook my head. "I was surprised to hear you playing it. Old timey jazz isn't for everyone, especially people our age."

"My mom taught me to dance, and this music plays in Gram's house almost all the time when she isn't watching her shows," Tom explained. "You learn to like it. Or in my case, love it. I could sit over there on a nice day and just chill with her. Music playing, lemonade sitting on the table, reading a book or thumbing through a magazine, or just letting the sun do its thing to my skin. Oh, and then there's Christmas and wintertime. Fireplace going, hot chocolate in a mug, snow coming down out the window, decorations on the mantle, and (no pun intended, but) all that jazz." He sniffed and laughed and ran his hands up and down my back to resettle them in a different way than they had been.

"Maybe I could see that someday, or at least recreate that for myself, I guess," I amended so that I didn't pressure him. I didn't know where he was going back home to, and I wasn't going to be free to follow him until I got settled in my new place for at least a year. I had to make my own life before I got ready to share it with someone. Share it? Follow him? Where was this thinking coming from?

"I'd like both actually," he told me and pulled back to look at my face. "I'd love for you to meet Gram and see her house at Christmas sometime. Plus, I know she'd love you. Adore you, even. And, please, definitely take my suggestion and set yourself up to enjoy the atmosphere in your new place. I like that you're setting yourself up to get your own life and make something of yourself. I'm excited for you. I wish I knew where you were going so I could send you flowers or something, but I guess I'll work my way into your life one way or another."

"Does it make you uncomfortable that I have already had the marriage and babies thing?" I asked and looked up at his face. I lifted my head off his shoulder to see how he'd react.

"Does it make you uncomfortable knowing I'm nearly 30 and haven't?"

"Why would it?"

"Why would that knowledge make me uncomfortable?" Tom retaliated. "You have a past. Me too. We didn't choose when to cross paths, but that we even got to meet is a pretty cool thing. I mean, if today was even two weeks from now, would we have even met? I think we were meant to meet at this time of our lives."

"So, no desire to get married or just wanting to wait or what?"

"See? If you're not married by 25, people think there's an agenda or reason behind it," Tom complained. "You wouldn't know since you were married at 21. And I bet the babies came soon after, so no one asked about your desire to have them either. For us old folks," he teased, "people think they have to introduce us to the right one so we don't end up single, lonely, old men. Truth is? I just hadn't met the right one."

"Hadn't?"

"I don't want to presume I haven't met her yet," he answered and put his lips on my forehead. He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. "But it's looking more like I might have as this night goes on. I'm not oblivious to it either, Trin. I feel it. I didn't think much of speaking up when that creep was giving you a hard time. I'd have done that for any woman who was in that position. But as the conversation with you continued, even when we were still in the bar, I felt the connection. I felt the desire to keep talking, to keep getting to know you."

"If I overthink it, it's going to get weird," I admitted and closed my eyes.

"Don't then," he answered matter-of-factly. "Let it happen. Why question a gift?" Before I knew what he was doing, I felt his hand on my chin and then his lips on mine. I was stunned. Oh, good Lord, his lips were so soft. I followed his lead and sighed when he pulled his lips away. But he wasn't done. He went from holding my chin to cupping my face. When he put his mouth back on mine, I tightened my hold on him and began kissing him back. Knees weak. Loving this. Mind numb. Can't think.

I think a few minutes went by before he pulled his lips from me and put his forehead to mine. He let out a little laugh and continued breathing hard. "Um, yeah, I have to pause for a minute because you're a really good kisser, and it's having an effect on me." I blushed when I realized it wasn't his heavy breathing to which he was referring.

"Can we sit down for a bit?" I covered my mouth and laughed. "Oh no! I lied! I thought for sure you'd be the one to stop our dancing. My bad."

"In fairness, I was the one to stop it, technically," Tom justified and laughed as he sat down next to me. He'd taken my hand when we stopped dancing and hadn't let it go. I liked it. "Can we keep talking about stuff?"

"Of course. I'm not just keeping you around for your good looks," I teased and winked at him before busting out with a laugh. "Seriously. I've only had one drink. Can you imagine me with two or three in me? Crazy."

"I'm pretty sure that one drink wore off before dinner, but I think you'd be a fun drinker," Tom speculated. "You don't come across as a mean one. And I doubt a sloppy one. You're too responsible for that. Nope, I can see 'funny.'"

"Well, I doubt you'll ever know," I told him and nodded. His concerned look made me wonder what he took that to mean. "What?"

"Why do you doubt I'll ever know that?"

"I hardly ever drink," I answered and then realized his concern. "Oh! You thought... oh, no! I meant that today, like I said at the bar, it was my first drink in literally fifteen months. I don't tend to like it. I don't like beer at all. I don't enjoy wine, really. I go for the fruity drinks like Amaretto or a good hard lemonade after mowing the lawn. Or at least I did that once or twice when we first began living here. Otherwise, it's diet soda or water. Or maybe I'll have a regular lemonade when I play the jazz music while reading and enjoying the sun sometime." I smiled and squeezed his hand. I decided right then that when I found my house in New York, it was going to be one of the first things I did when I was all set up.

"Ah, well, I gotcha. That makes sense. Now, can I ask a sensitive question?"

"Only if you stop asking permission to ask questions," I agreed.

"Noted," he responded and rolled his eyes. "Are you sure though? It's a little personal." I gave him an annoyed look so he shook his head and shrugged. "OK, I was just checking. Trinity, how many sexual partners have you had?"

"Oh, that kind of question," I noted and nodded. "Well, that's an easy one for me. One. I lost my virginity on my wedding night. Nothing before. None since." It was my turn to shrug. "I miss it, but I'm not using my single status to rush out and find an available stud to either knock me up or give me a good, though most likely short-lived, sexual experience."

"One. Wow," Tom marveled and smiled. "I'm glad you've maintained your views on sex, or at least that's what it seems that you did. It shouldn't be just something you throw away or use as a means to just have it. I have been with a few more than one, but each was my monogamous girlfriend. I think my longest relationship, though, was only a few months. It didn't take long for me to just know each wasn't the right one. And I was always safe. Never had sex without a condom."

"Huh," I answered and looked away. "I've never used one," I told him quietly. "I never wanted to either. Between the method that Mark and I used which worked well for both planning our kids as well as with communication, and then with my incident with the miscarriages, I never found a need, nor wanted anything between us.

"Never?"

"Nope, and before you ask, no, neither of my two children were surprises. We actually planned them. We used Natural Family Planning. We worked together to monitor when I was fertile and just didn't do it or did other things on those days. And then when we wanted to get pregnant, it basically happened on the first try."

"Huh," he answered. "And that worked?"

"Every time," I answered truthfully. "We were actually pregnant three times, but we lost the one between Christiane and Irelyn."

"Oh, those are pretty names," Tom responded before reaching for my hand of which he'd let go back when we'd begun discussing sexual partners. It was a bit of an odd subject to be discussing while touching each other. "Christy-anne and Ire-lynn," he repeated by sounding them out. "Different but so pretty, Trin. I bet they were amazing. And you lost one? How far along were you? Do you mind me asking?"

"Mind? No, gosh, not at all. They were amazing, I will begin by telling you that. They were three and one when they passed away in the accident. Christiane was little Miss Independent, always wanting to do things on her own before having to ask for help. Irelyn was so laid back, but so funny, even at just a year old. She was just so cool, Tom. They both were. Gosh, I wish you could have met them."

"Me too," he said quietly and rubbed my hand.

"And the miscarriage occurred when I was only about ten weeks along. I always felt like something was wrong. No wait. That's not quite accurate. Something didn't feel right. And it turned out it wasn't. I had an ectopic pregnancy, meaning that the embryo embedded in my fallopian tube rather than in my uterus. I happen to have an incredibly high pain tolerance. By the time I realized something was really wrong, my fallopian tube burst. It cut my chances of getting pregnant in half now that the one ovary can't drop any more eggs the usual way. Once we realized which month I was fertile, we got pregnant right away again, and that's how we got Irelyn."

"Can you tell when you're fertile?"

"With the Natural Family Planning method? Yes, basically from my temperature and from... well, other stuff. But I couldn't just put one hand on my belly, lick my finger of the other hand, feel the wind, and tell you where I'm at in my cycle." I laughed. "But I received a coupon for an ovulation tracker and bought it just to see if I could see the difference between one month and the next. I got it, like I don't know, last Christmas, I think? I just wanted to see. It turns out, I'm able to tell which month I am and am not. I check it every now and again just to see if it's still really every other month. Sure enough, like clockwork." I shrugged.

Talk about crazy conversations. I was talking to a man I had only known for about seven hours about my fertility. Oh, dear God, what was I doing? "Um, I am just now realizing that I am sharing way more with you than you had probably intended on hearing, let alone wanted to know, and for that, I am truly sorry. I'm going to go ahead and blame it on the time. I'm not usually up this late."

"I'm glad you feel comfortable sharing this with me," Tom challenged. "I did ask, and I'm interested in it as long as you're comfortable sharing." I really hoped he didn't ask if I was going to be fertile over the next two weeks. Knowing that I couldn't get pregnant only gave me more of a reason to go ahead and have sex with him. And oh, how I was craving that. I wanted to feel his strong hands on my body. Oh, I could already feel the heat in my cheeks. I was probably glowing at this point.

"Why are you blushing?" Tom asked and smiled. Called it, I thought to myself. Crap.

"It's late," I justified. "My mind doesn't know what to do at this time of night, and so it's sorta running a little wild at the moment."

"Did you want to go to bed?" Tom asked.

With you? Yes, and do things that would make sexually active teenagers blush. "I don't know. Maybe," I answered. "We do have another two full weeks to get to know each other more."

"OK, well, do we need to do anything?" Tom asked and pointed toward the kitchen. "Dishes, lock up, anything else?"

"Mmm-mmm," I told him and shook my head to further indicate that nothing needed to be done. Instead, I chose to go with my gut and ignored all the nervous energies. "Come with me," I told him after I turned out the light in the living room before extending my hand. "The bed is this way."

I caught Tom's smile as the light went out, and when I grasped his hand, I led him into my room. I pointed at the closest side of the king-size bed indicating that he could take that one. "I'll just change in the bathroom and be right out. Wear what you want. We can go get your stuff tomorrow, and if you need anything, we'll go shopping. Is that OK?"

"Um, yep, that's perfect," Tom answered. I nodded and hurried into the bathroom after grabbing my shorts and tank top. If I wasn't careful, I was going to throw up. I was so nervous. I was excited. I was... oh, come on! Wasn't there a word for the 5,000 emotions I had screaming through my mind at that moment? I changed quickly and tossed my clothes from the day into the hamper as I walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Tom was settled in the bed, so I turned out the light and made my way through the darkness and into my side of the bed.

He'd been leaning on his side with his hand on his elbow when I came out of the bathroom. Now what? I was beginning to be able to see him, or at least his outline, as I settled into my own part of the bed. Was I crazy? Would I look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking? Did I already wonder that?

"Trin?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"I'm not expecting anything, you know," Tom clarified. I knew that. I had to have known that, right? What kind of woman would I be if I just gave it up to a perfect stranger on the first date? Sex and the City much? I didn't watch the show but was fairly certain it wasn't talking about good marital sex being had by the main characters with only their husbands. Were any of those characters married? Oh, my gosh! What the heck was I doing?

"I know," I answered him and sighed. "Part of me is screaming at the top of my lungs in my head that I'm crazy, but the other 90% of me is dying to kiss you right now. I have been since we stopped while we were dancing." I looked over at him and was able to make out his features enough to extend my hand out to cup his face. Just like in the movies, we began slowly moving closer until his lips were on mine. And then the gloves were off.