Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MADELINE

He bought me a ring?!

That thought kept repeating in her mind as she held Noah's hand, walking along the beach. When they had first pretended to be married, she'd blown it off. The second time when they exchanged their vows, a part of her wondered if it was true — if it would hold up, and why he would do something so generous as offering his name, giving her a chance to hide… but a ring?

Obviously, it meant more to Noah than he'd let on, which made her own hopes, dreams, and fears start to solidify in her mind, taking shape deep down inside.

"This isn't about just trying to sleep with me… is it?"

Madeline winced as the blunt words came flying out of her mouth before her brain had a chance to filter them. To her relief, Noah looked at her with a soft, nervous smile and shook his head .

"That would be nice," he admitted lightly, trying to play off how serious a question and this whole conversation was at this moment. "But I really like you as a person and what this feels like."

"What does it feel like to you? Because I'm not one hundred percent sure of how I feel and it's very unsettling. Sometimes I think, ‘Wow, he's great,' and other times I feel ignored because there are large gaps in our communication," and she heard him sigh heavily, causing her to look at him immediately as he pulled to a stop.

Meeting his eyes, she hesitated. There, in those beautiful eyes that she felt an instant trust, confidence, and kinship with during that fated moment in Egypt, she saw a weakness, a fear, that was unsettling – especially when he took her other hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently on the wedding ring that lay on her finger.

"I can't help those gaps, Madeline," he whispered almost apologetically. "I'm committed to the Navy for a few more years. When we are on deployment, I'm at the mercy of cell towers, satellites, and who knows what else, but it doesn't mean that I don't want to talk to you."

He paused, and somehow, she knew he wasn't finished speaking. He was gathering his thoughts, which meant it was important and not necessarily good news.

"I feel comfortable talking with you, look forward to our text messages, our email, even just walking like this… but I can't promise you that there won't be a delay if the ship goes out again."

"I know, it's just hard," she whispered, admitting the truth to him and hating it. "None of this is normal, which makes me worry. It's not like we are going to dinner and a movie or scheduling a coffee date to chat. We're already married. It's like we've crossed a finish line without even bothering to run the race… some people enjoy all the running!"

Madeline choked out the words emotionally and looked away. She didn't want to hurt Noah, but it was brutally true. No amount of sugarcoating would change it. They'd fallen into a weird relationship, rushed into another one, and now they just— were. Everything was happening like some magical being shrugged and said, ‘ Sure, go be married and skip all the other stuff' but that ‘ other stuff' was necessary to fall in love – and she desperately wanted those emotions, those feelings, eventually.

"I'm not a runner, but I've heard that people get some sort of weird endorphin high or schedule a bunch of ‘fun runs' because it makes them feel better, but what if it doesn't? Maybe they are mentally twisted or sick, sick people. I mean, if running is supposed to be good for you, then why…"

"Madeline," he interrupted, laughing softly and tugging her forward. He pulled her into a hug, comforting her without question. "We're not talking about running – are we?"

"No," she breathed, burying her face against his shoulder.

"I'm not big on running either," he whispered, smoothing his hand gently along her back. "But I agree that the ‘other stuff' is important, too. Please be patient with me and don't give up before we start our own race. Maybe the finish line is actually… our starting line?"

She let out a tearful laugh.

"You think you're sooo clever, don't you?"

"I'm trying to outwit my wife so she doesn't ditch me before I have a chance to show her that I'm the right guy for her," he murmured, and her own breath caught in her chest at his softly spoken words.

"She's not going to ditch you…" And leaned back slightly, raising her eyes to meet his.

"I don't need all the fanfare from the spectators you see at the finish line," he murmured, moving to cradle her cheek in his hand as he gazed at her. "I just need my running partner to be happy as we make our way down the course."

"We're not talking about running," she smiled tearfully at him.

"Heck no," he smirked tenderly, not moving away. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For talking to me and sharing what is going through your mind. I want you to feel like you can tell me anything and trust that I'll be here to listen."

Nodding, she saw his slow smile as he leaned toward her as two children ran past them with their buckets and shovels, talking about where to make a sandcastle. A couple walked past them, yet Noah didn't move. He held himself close to her until they were just out of earshot.

"And let's head back to our room," he whispered to her, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I hear there's ‘other stuff' to discuss between us."

"Communication and finding a way to bridge the gap is a big one," Madeline began nervously. "I worry about the distance, talking, my job, your job, and…"

"Madeline," he breathed, kissing her earlobe as he spoke. "Quit worrying so much and have a little faith in your man." Her knees nearly went out from under her as he grazed his nose against her cheekbone, kissing a trail along her skin. "We've got so much to learn about each other, so much to discover, and so little time to do it before you leave."

"Noah…" she breathed, feeling overwhelmed at the sensations he was creating within her with such a simple touch, a caress, and a whisper. "I can't just do this."

"Kiss me?" he paused, his lips hovering near hers from the path that they had been blazing tenderly. "All I wanted was a kiss and to make you feel special."

"You're not trying to get me into bed?"

"Sweetheart," he breathed huskily. "Don't mistake being patient for lack of enthusiasm. I would love to take you to bed and spend hours there, but there is more to being in a marriage together."

"Exactly…" she muttered distractedly, not moving.

"There is so much we can do to reach for each other," he promised as his upper lip barely brushed against her lower lip that was trembling with passion. "Without getting into bed together."

"There is?"

"Absolutely, there is," he whispered. "Sometimes you can be more exposed to someone by allowing them to see where you are truly vulnerable." And he bit her lower lip softly, grazing his teeth against it.

A husky curse escaped her lips as her knees buckled. Her hands immediately clung to his shoulder to keep from collapsing in the sand at his feet, only to hear his soft laughter.

"I should definitely do that again."

"You should not because I think my brain is leaking from my ears now."

"Maybe I should investigate what else gets a reaction out of you?"

"Lots of things," she whispered and then hesitated at his knowing chuckle, looking at him. "Nothing. I meant to say ‘nothing' – and there's more than one reaction in this world."

"I'm glad you like my kisses."

"You didn't exactly kiss me."

"Maybe I should try again?"

"No. Hang on. I need those brain cells to walk."

The second those words were out of her mouth, Madeline instantly saw a change come over Noah as his eyes darkened slightly. He moved quickly and bent over slightly, putting an arm behind her and scooping her up against his chest where she was currently flailing.

"Put me down before you drop me!"

"I'm not going to drop you."

"We're on a beach, there are people, the sand will wash away from under your feet. What if you step on a crab? What if you get a piece of glass in your foot or stumble?"

"Then," Noah smirked, his lips twitching as he leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. "Quit arguing with me and look the other direction so I know if I'm about to step on some glass or a very angry stray crab."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Only slightly."

"That's not very nice."

"Is my wife wanting me to be a whole lot nicer to her?"

"Why are you making everything sound dirty?"

"Why are you thinking that I am? Hmm?"

"Because you have this tone – and you know what I'm talking about."

"Maybe you are thinking it's dirty because you want things to be that way," Noah whispered, grinning, as he wagged his eyebrows at her playfully. "Maybe I'm the innocent one in this relationship. "

"I don't think so!" Madeline sputtered in disbelief, causing him to burst out laughing as he stumbled, setting her down onto her feet. "I knew you were going to drop me."

"Oh my gosh, Madeline," he exclaimed, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he smiled brightly at her. "You are simply the best – seriously. We could go back and forth like this for years and I would never get sick of this. Don't ever change."

That simple phrase was sobering as she stood there beside him. She'd been told differently from prior boyfriends, teachers, friends, and others – repeatedly.

Shh, your voice is too loud.

Can't you try harder?

Don't be so aggressive, guys don't like a pushy woman.

Put forth more of an effort if you want us to be friends.

Quit being so argumentative.

Each statement, no matter how kindly it was said, had chipped away at her confidence, allowing her to construct walls that were impenetrable, or so she thought until now. That single phrase made her aware that she still had a vulnerable spot, and Noah had found it.

She stood there, wary, and saw the change in Noah the moment he noticed. Instead of saying anything, he looked at her and reached for her hand, not looking away from her eyes as he pressed a kiss on her palm without hesitation. He didn't look to see if her hand was clean or dirty. He didn't inspect her chipped nail polish or criticize her callused fingers. He simply pressed the softest kiss against her skin and held it there before whispering to her.

"I adore what we have," he breathed. His words were so fragile, so delicate between them, that it brought tears to her eyes as she stared at him. "Please don't ever change. "

"Don't say words you don't mean," she immediately replied and saw his slow nod combined with a painful understanding in his eyes as they looked at each other, not moving.

"I'm not. If either of us pretended to be someone else, then this wouldn't be as incredible as it seems. Be yourself with me, trust me with who you are, and let me admire that fire that makes you special."

Madeline swallowed, feeling those same things that she once felt when she gazed into his eyes for the first time at the pyramid. He'd stepped forward, promised to protect her, and she'd trusted him then… just like she was willing to trust him now. Call it instinct, blind faith, recognition, or whatever – that feeling was there, alive, between them.

"I trust you," she said hoarsely as he kissed her palm once more, nodding emotionally as he looked at her. Noah released her hand and put his on her hip, guiding her to walk at his side as they returned to the lobby of the hotel.

Neither said a word.

Her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest at the implications of what was about to happen. They were going to be alone, moving forward with this whole marriage and trying to make it a real one. She wanted love, emotions, respect, the whole ball of wax but maybe she would need to settle for it happening over time.

Getting to the hotel room door, her hand was trembling as she got out her room key. The second the lock flashed green, Noah reached around her and opened the doorway, allowing her to walk into the room first. Stepping inside felt different this time around. She was more aware of everything.

Noah. The gaudy palm leaves bedcovers. The watercolor-painted scene above the king-sized bed that seemed to dominate the room. The miniblinds out onto the small balcony that overlooked the ocean, the lamps, everything all at once.

She was going to pass out, Madeline thought painfully, her heart hammering wildly in her chest as she tried to calm herself from panting or gasping. She was so scared that Noah was going to end up finding something lacking with her or be disappointed that she was very nearly having a panic attack. Why was she out of breath?

"I know it's early in the afternoon," Noah said simply, picking up the phone and glancing at her. "I was going to get something sent up so we can just relax for a bit and hang out."

"You're… hungry?"

"No… but you look scared. I thought you might like something to drink."

"I'm freaking out," she admitted, trying to keep from shrieking the words at him or shattering any nearby glass… only to see the corner of his lip curl upward. Man, he did that all the time, and that singular look did something to what brain cells she had remaining. This is how you end up drooling on yourself and catatonic – sexy men like this, she mused, listening to him order on the phone.

"I need a bottle of wine, a thermos of coffee, two slices of cheesecake, and do you have steak-cut french fries? Yep – make sure they are crispy, though. I'll take a large order of those. Nope. That's it."

Okay, well, that was a weird order.

"Fries?" she asked, only to see that same smile flash her way.

"Six months without decent french fries does something to a person. Forget the burger, I just want some good fries that aren't soggy or floppy," he explained and seemed pretty casual about the whole thing. Moving across the room, he opened the doors to the balcony and then stepped out, putting two chairs beside each other.

"You want to sit… out here?"

"And watch the water – sure."

"Aren't you sick of the water?"

"Nah, it's not so bad… and it might help you relax," he smiled knowingly, pointing at the chair. "When I'm struggling aboard the ship, I usually try to go up on deck and look at the stars or just watch the waves for a while to calm myself. Here – sit down."

And she did.

She sat beside him, watching his profile and the waves in the distance, lost in her own mind as they just sat there silently. He leaned back slightly in his chair, putting his feet up on the railing and again, she stared. This was the weirdest, most normal thing that someone could do – and she did the same.

"See?" he murmured, smiling at her and clasped her hand. "Is this so much better when we can relax together?"

"Yes, but I thought that…"

Her voice trailed off as she heard a knock at the door. Noah stood up and looked at her, moving to answer it and paused.

"Just because I'm not all over you, that doesn't mean I'm not interested," and he walked inside the hotel room without another word. Mindlessly, she put her feet down and was drawn inside, watching and silently learning more about who he was as a person.

He was silent as he opened the bottle of wine and poured two small plastic cups full of the dark red fluid before yanking off the silver dome covering the order of french fries.

"Ohhhhh mannnn," he groaned aloud and sank slightly, bending his knees in sheer pleasure before straightening up and plucking a fry off the plate – tossing it into his mouth… and wincing before his face melted happily "Hot – but amazing! You want one?"

"Are you sure you want to share?" she chuckled, thoroughly amused and relaxing into this easy camaraderie between them. This wasn't the sexy man who kissed her stomach in Egypt. She didn't feel intimidated, threatened, or cornered with impending intimacy between strangers. It was just some normal guy, with normal toes, eating normal french fries, and loving every second of it.

"I'd give you all of them – I'd pout – but they would be yours," he chuckled, popping another french fry into his mouth and chewing. It was sweetly silly and made all of her walls melt. Leaning over, she plucked a large steak fry and took a bite.

"Hey! That was the biggest one…"

"You said I could have some."

"I also said that I'd pout…" he retorted, grinning, and Madeline burst out laughing at such ease between them. He picked up another large fry and held it out to her.

"Will you be my wife – share my fries, spend moments like this with me, and laugh together until we can't stand it anymore?" he said, offering it to her like some weird guy offering a rose on that television show, The Bachelor.

"I accept," she smiled, playing along with him – and took a big bite of the fry, causing his mouth to drop open in shock before he burst out laughing in delight and she joined in.

This was easy .

This she could handle.

Smiling, Noah moved the plate of fries to the tiny table in the corner of the hotel room. She grabbed the two plastic cups of wine as he went back to get the cheesecake slices. They were going to have their own little party, their own feast, celebrating the fact that he was back – and their marriage. Sliding the glass door shut, he met her eyes.

"The seagulls are tyrants here," he explained. "They'll fly right up to you and take it from your fingers."

"Oh really?"

"Yup. It's bad. I've seen them fly right into the opening on the side of the ship where the elevators lift the planes, darting through there like a bat outta hell to go grab someone's half-eaten sandwich that they thought they had hidden in a toolbox. We don't fool around when you get closer to land because the threat becomes real."

"Menaces?"

"Indeed," he chuckled and held up his glass of wine, smiling at her. "To moments like these – carefree and perfect."

"To moments like these," she repeated, touched by how easy things seemed to be… and how different the entire afternoon was from what she imagined. In her mind, she thought he would be pressuring her for intimacy before getting mad that she wasn't ready – but that wasn't the case. While it was wonderful, there was still a little voice in her head that was confused and slightly disappointed.

As they ate, they talked about television shows, favorite pastimes, bad habits, and other things, laughing and smiling as they shared little tidbits of themselves that they'd been too panicked, too rushed to even dive into while in Egypt. It had been a ‘Go, Go, Go' marathon… and now it was more of a ‘Take it Slow' pace between them .

"Nawww," Noah drawled as he rolled his eyes. "The guys are great and sometimes a little annoying, but they really are the best. Maybe someday we can have them over for dinner or something when base housing opens up."

"Base housing?" she asked, pausing mid-sip, and saw him hesitate.

"I put us on the list for base housing not too long ago – just in case," he admitted. "The wait is usually pretty long, and the officer's housing is supposed to be pretty nice. It's on base whereas some of the enlisted is split between base and an off-property apartment complex near Atlantic Boulevard."

"What about my job?" she asked in confusion, feeling almost guilty. "I mean, are you expecting me to give up everything and just…"

"Hang on," he interrupted gently, touching her hand. "Just because I signed up for base housing doesn't mean that it will open up tomorrow. It could be a year, and we don't know what happens in the future. I'm not asking you to give up your job because I know you were really excited about it. I'm saying that if you could maybe fly down once in a while, then we have a home here together." His eyes held hers, searching. "In a year or two, things could change. I could get assigned to another ship or another port. You could end up loving the job and moving up. Maybe something else would open up. Neither of us knows what the future brings, right?"

"This is true," she whispered, admitting it between them.

"Then trust me, please," he uttered gently. "I only want to make sure we can take advantage of every benefit we can while we can, and I am never going to back you into a corner or put my foot down. We can talk about things together, as a couple— right?"

"Yes," she smiled nervously at him, feeling bad for having jumped to conclusions. "I apologize, and I don't mean to immediately go on the defensive. It's just…"

"You have a past that has made you leery."

"Yes."

"I understand," he said simply. "I want us to be able to talk about anything, and if I go flying off the handle, then no one wins."

"True."

"Then I listen," he smiled, pouring some more wine in her cup. "I learn, and I think of how I would react if the situation was different. If it was me, I would be afraid to be held back, like a bird with clipped wings."

Madeline met his eyes once more, marveling at how handsome he was and how understanding he seemed to be.

"I couldn't be prouder to see you soar, Madeline," he admitted quietly. "I may worry, miss you, or want to talk to you – but I do understand. You must live your life, just like me. I love flying, being in the Navy, and traveling the world. You wouldn't hold me back, so how could I do that to the person I am choosing to build my life with?"

His words were so gentle, so sweet, and his gaze so tender that she felt herself melting. Neither spoke as he leaned forward to gently brush his lips against hers. She could taste the salt of his fries and the sweetness of the wine mixed with something that was just him.

And then he backed away.

"Noah?"

"C'mon," he whispered hoarsely. "Let's sit on the balcony and talk some more."

"I thought you wanted…" her voice faded away as she gl anced at the bed, then back at him. "I thought that was why you ordered the wine."

"I asked for the wine to help you relax so we could get to know each other better. When I make love to my wife for the first time, I want you completely sober, ready, and excited to be there with me," he admitted and looked at her. "We're not there yet, but this has been a good start."