you know that guy you came out here with? You grew up with him. Dated him all through high school, right? Time doesn’t make you know a person. Trust does.” He bent down until his lips hovered over hers. “Do you trust me, Bibi?” he breathed, the words almost soundless. “Do you?”
She did. God help her, she really did. “Yes.”
“Then let me take care of you. Marry me.”
It was the only thing she knew she wanted.
FIVE
Hoosier laughed when she came out of the bathroom of their hotel room dressed for their wedding.
Bibi put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “If you want me to marry you, you probably shouldn’t laugh at my dress.”
“That’s not a dress, Cheeks.” He came to her and put his hands over hers. “That’s underwear. But I like it fine. Didn’t figure you for a white dress and a veil, anyway.”
She looked down at herself. He’d told her a couple of times that he didn’t think she was really a punk, and maybe he was right. She didn’t know what she was. She liked the clothes, though. She liked that they weren’t ‘normal,’ and that she could make an outfit out of almost anything.
Like this: she’d cut the lace bodice out of a fancy red negligee she’d found at the vintage shop, and she’d sewn a couple of inches of red tulle on the bottom. It made a kind of corset with a peplum. She had a knit micro-mini and fishnets under it, both black. The black suede booties she called her ‘witch shoes,’ and her stacks of black jelly bracelets completed the look.
It pleased her greatly to think that her mother would have taken one look at this wedding ensemble and come over with an acute case of the vapors.
With that thought, Bibi realized that she’d done it again—dressed for, or against, somebody else. She’d never thought about why she did the things she did until Hoosier had pointed it out.
Now she felt stupid. “Is it dumb?” she asked, and then realized, again, that she’d deferred the opinion to somebody else.
He lifted her chin and smiled down at her. “Most of you is uncovered, so as long as you stay close to me, I like it.” Trailing a hand up the back of her thigh, he added, “I love the seams on these stockings.”
“They’re tights, not stockings,” she sighed, swaying a little at his touch.
“Okay. They’re indecent, whatever they are. I like indecent.” With a light kiss at the corner of her mouth, he ran his fingers through her hair. “And I like that I can touch your hair. But what do you think?”
She really thought about that for a moment. “I like it. I feel sexy.”
“You are sexy.” He winked at her. “So sexy I think I want to marry you.”
Pushing him back a little before they ended up in their wedding bed before the wedding, Bibi frowned up at him. “It’s more than that, though, right? Am I enough? For the rest of your life?” She was still struggling with the truth that this man loved her as much as he said he did. She believed him, but it was hard for her to think of herself as someone with much to offer.
At her question, he frowned back at her, then pulled her to sit down on the bed. He squatted before her, and, still holding her hand, he said, “I need you to hear this, Beebs. Of course it’s more than that. Maybe I see something you don’t. If that’s true, then I’m gonna help you see it. I saw it before I said a word to you, and I see it every day. There’s fire in your heart and steel in your gut. I want to take care of you, but you already take care of me. That’s what you do—you take care of people. You do what you need to do and find something worthwhile in it, whatever it is. You see what people need, even if they can’t even see it. And, baby, your heart is wide open. You put on that smartass front, and you’re good at it. It’s sexy and cute. But the truth is you’re the least cynical person I ever met. You trust
She did. God help her, she really did. “Yes.”
“Then let me take care of you. Marry me.”
It was the only thing she knew she wanted.
FIVE
Hoosier laughed when she came out of the bathroom of their hotel room dressed for their wedding.
Bibi put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “If you want me to marry you, you probably shouldn’t laugh at my dress.”
“That’s not a dress, Cheeks.” He came to her and put his hands over hers. “That’s underwear. But I like it fine. Didn’t figure you for a white dress and a veil, anyway.”
She looked down at herself. He’d told her a couple of times that he didn’t think she was really a punk, and maybe he was right. She didn’t know what she was. She liked the clothes, though. She liked that they weren’t ‘normal,’ and that she could make an outfit out of almost anything.
Like this: she’d cut the lace bodice out of a fancy red negligee she’d found at the vintage shop, and she’d sewn a couple of inches of red tulle on the bottom. It made a kind of corset with a peplum. She had a knit micro-mini and fishnets under it, both black. The black suede booties she called her ‘witch shoes,’ and her stacks of black jelly bracelets completed the look.
It pleased her greatly to think that her mother would have taken one look at this wedding ensemble and come over with an acute case of the vapors.
With that thought, Bibi realized that she’d done it again—dressed for, or against, somebody else. She’d never thought about why she did the things she did until Hoosier had pointed it out.
Now she felt stupid. “Is it dumb?” she asked, and then realized, again, that she’d deferred the opinion to somebody else.
He lifted her chin and smiled down at her. “Most of you is uncovered, so as long as you stay close to me, I like it.” Trailing a hand up the back of her thigh, he added, “I love the seams on these stockings.”
“They’re tights, not stockings,” she sighed, swaying a little at his touch.
“Okay. They’re indecent, whatever they are. I like indecent.” With a light kiss at the corner of her mouth, he ran his fingers through her hair. “And I like that I can touch your hair. But what do you think?”
She really thought about that for a moment. “I like it. I feel sexy.”
“You are sexy.” He winked at her. “So sexy I think I want to marry you.”
Pushing him back a little before they ended up in their wedding bed before the wedding, Bibi frowned up at him. “It’s more than that, though, right? Am I enough? For the rest of your life?” She was still struggling with the truth that this man loved her as much as he said he did. She believed him, but it was hard for her to think of herself as someone with much to offer.
At her question, he frowned back at her, then pulled her to sit down on the bed. He squatted before her, and, still holding her hand, he said, “I need you to hear this, Beebs. Of course it’s more than that. Maybe I see something you don’t. If that’s true, then I’m gonna help you see it. I saw it before I said a word to you, and I see it every day. There’s fire in your heart and steel in your gut. I want to take care of you, but you already take care of me. That’s what you do—you take care of people. You do what you need to do and find something worthwhile in it, whatever it is. You see what people need, even if they can’t even see it. And, baby, your heart is wide open. You put on that smartass front, and you’re good at it. It’s sexy and cute. But the truth is you’re the least cynical person I ever met. You trust
Similar Books
