He laughed. "We'll see how you feel after we eat. I don't want you to get sore. My parents always taught me that I was only hurting myself if I broke my toys..."
She giggled. "Is that all I am to you? A toy? A plaything?" She loved the idea of being his playground.
He cupped her face in his hands, looking deeply into her green eyes. "No, you're so much more than that. You're my wife, the woman I'm spending the rest of my life with. And you are the most amazing woman I've ever met."
She sighed, her hand tracing his jaw. "I could get used to having a man say things like that to me. Usually they say, 'Cissie, are you crazy?' I like what you say better. Say some more!"
He just laughed, holding her close. "Can we nap for a few minutes before I cook?"
"Sure, but the playground is closed until you feed me, Deputy Bob." Her eyelids were already fluttering closed. A nap sounded good. She could wait to eat for a little while at least.
"You know, you could just call me Bob if you wanted. Deputy Bob feels so—formal."
Cissie considered that for a moment. "I guess I could do that. Can I call you Deputy Bob when we play warden and prisoner, though?"
Bob just laughed. "Could I stop you?"
*****
Bob woke feeling something heavy on his shoulder. He was startled at first, and then he saw Cissie's head on his shoulder. Her face was toward him, and she looked so peaceful and innocent in her sleep. He was thrilled to have the opportunity to just look at her, without her being aware.
Truly, he'd expected her to be disappointed when she saw him at the church, but her enthusiasm had been overwhelming. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd asked her out at the bowling alley if she'd have said 'yes.' He wasn't about to ask, though. Lachele had been insistent that he wait a while before telling her he'd engineered the whole match, convinced that she'd be angry if she found out the truth.
He watched her slowly wake up, her green eyes confused for a moment, but then a slow grin spread across her face. "Bob," she said with a sigh.
He cupped her cheek with his hand. "How're you doing?" he asked. He was thrilled she was happy to see him, and her emotions were right there on her face, easily readable.
"Hungry." Cissie could hear her stomach growling. She'd eaten almost nothing that day. She hadn't felt nervous, but her appetite had been gone.
He laughed. "I couldn't get up to fix something because you were using my shoulder as a pillow. You looked so beautiful. I just couldn't disturb you." And it was true as far as it went. Of course, he hadn't wanted to move away from her. Holding her while she slept had been the most wonderful thing he'd done in a long time.
"Excuses, excuses. Kiss me, and then go cook, and I will lie abed like a princess waiting to be served by her minion." She couldn't remember ever waking up and feeling quite so content. If he'd just feed her, everything would be right with the world.
Bob sighed. "Now I understand why you wanted a husband. You needed a lackey to carry out your every wish." Not that he minded. He'd gotten the world when he married her. It was the least he could do to give it back to her.
"I'm so glad you understand without me having to spell it out!"
He kissed her and gave her bottom a playful swat. "You could at least set the table while I cook." He expected her to have a reason she couldn't do that, so he waited for it.
She nodded. "Oh, I could. I think I'll shower instead."
He rolled out of bed grumbling good-naturedly. He truly didn't mind cooking for her while she showered, but he didn't want her to think she could run all over him either. "Tacos or omelets?" he asked, thinking about what he had in the kitchen. They would probably need to run to the grocery store within the next day or so to get more food if they were going to eat at home a lot.
Cissie considered his question for a moment. "Omelets, I think." She got up and walked toward the bathroom, not self-conscious about her nudity at all.
He caught her as she was about to pass him, kissing her again. "We need to keep your strength up," he said with a wink.
She laughed. "And yours. You're going to need lots of stamina."
She closed the bathroom door with a snap, turning on the water as she looked in the mirror. Her hair was sticking up all over, but he'd still thought she looked good apparently. He was one crazy man!
Chapter Four
While Cissie showered, she sang, her tunes excited and upbeat. She wrapped a towel around her body sarong-style before heading back into the bedroom to get some clothes from her suitcase. She and Cindy had done some lingerie shopping, and she pulled out a short green satin nightgown with spaghetti straps. It came to the top of her thighs, and she knew it would drive Bob crazy. Of course, everything she did seemed to drive Bob crazy. Bob was wonderful.
Pulling it over her head, she put on a silky robe that came to her knees over the top. She'd take it off after dinner, and he wouldn't know what hit him.
Cissie had always known that she was attractive to a lot of men, but Bob took it to the next level. He all but worshipped her with his eyes. It was wonderful, and she was thrilled he'd been chosen for her.
She walked into the kitchen, and sat in a chair to watch him cook. He'd pulled on a pair of boxers but nothing else, and she admired his lean, muscled body. She let out a low whistle, and he turned, blushing.
"I like it when you blush," she said softly. It happened often, and she hoped he never stopped.
He shook his head. "I'm a thirty-three year old cop. I shouldn't be blushing at anything. What is it about you that makes me blush?" He still couldn't figure out just what it was that was so special about Cissie to him. It wasn't just her appearance. It was so much more than that.
She shrugged. "Maybe it's because you know that I'm mentally stripping you while you make me an omelet?" Her eyes were full of laughter as he blushed a shade darker.
"If I didn't before, I do now. Please, continue to see me as a sex object. I beg of you!"
Cissie grinned at him. "If you insist!"
"Oh, I definitely do." He put her omelet on a plate and added two pieces of buttered toast. "I haven't figured out the trick for making two at once, so I'll make mine and be right there."
She looked down at the perfectly cooked omelet and smiled. "This looks delicious." Of course, she was at a point in her life where she'd happily eat anything she hadn't had to cook herself.
"It is." He was confident about his cooking. When he'd been engaged to Tanya, he'd done all the cooking, and she hadn't complained once. And Tanya complained about everything. Every time they'd gone out to eat, she'd sent her food back for one reason or another. She hadn't been a pleasant person to be around.
She cut into her omelet with her fork, watching the cheese drip out of it. Popping the bite into her mouth, she smiled and nodded. "This is good! Oh, you have just earned the right to cook for me for the rest of my life." Her words were spoken with all the enthusiasm of a game show host telling a contestant what he had won.
Bob laughed. "We may have to take turns some. I do have a pretty demanding job."
Cissie shrugged. "So do I! I put in at least fifty hours per week." If they were going to play the demanding job game over who cooked, she'd happily get her vocation addressed immediately.
"We're going to have to figure out how to make things work then. Do you want me to try to get a later shift?"
"You don't work nights? Why were you the one pulling us over last night then?"
He sat down across from her with his own omelet. "I worked a double shift yesterday so that we could have a full week without me working. I'm glad you arranged to have the week off, too."
"I can't imagine having to go to work the day after I get married like Cindy had to." She shook her head. She wanted to be able to drag him off to the bedroom anytime she felt like it without work interfering at all.
"And Cindy is?" He knew the answer, but he also knew he wasn't supposed to know it, so he pretended not to.
"Cindy's my best friend sin
ce kindergarten. Lachele matched her up a few months ago with a nerd from Texas named Trey. He's awesome!"
"And she had to work the next day?" Bob suddenly felt sorry for Trey.
Cissie nodded. "She runs a bed and breakfast in Blevins. Both of us wanted to get out of Wisconsin when we graduated from high school, and we both ended up back there, living other people's dreams." She shrugged. "Nothing ever is exactly like you expect, is it?"
He shook his head. "No, it's not. Do you like managing the bowling alley?" She seemed to him like the type who would be on the road, singing and working toward her music career. He couldn't imagine her in a bowling alley for the rest of her life.
"Sometimes. I mean, I like being my own boss. Don't get me wrong. When it comes down to it, though, it's a job like any other. I have a little control, but I'm still really having to answer to my parents, who own the place."
"Are you unhappy?" he asked, frowning at her.
Cissie shook her head. "I believe you make your own happiness. If you're doing a job you hate, you can still be happy. It's harder, but you can do it. I don't hate my job. I just don't always love it. At one point, I thought I'd sing professionally, but instead I'm managing a bowling alley. I'd never make it if not for Wednesday nights." Karaoke nights kept her going in so many ways. Her dad had been against the idea, but he'd known he'd lose her without it.
"Wednesday nights?" He felt like a fraud. He so badly wanted to tell her that he'd heard her sing and had fallen in love with her. Lachele knew her best, though.
"We do karaoke every Wednesday. It's something I added when I took over, because I needed to be able to sing sometimes." She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but it was extremely important to her.
"You have a beautiful voice. Hearing you sing today sent shivers up my spine." And other places too, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Not on their wedding day. She'd figure it out on her own as time went by.
Cissie winked at him. "I was hoping to get you somewhere else!"
Bob blushed, wishing with everything inside him he could stop doing that. "You know I don't think I'd blushed once in fifteen years before I met you. Now it's hourly."
Cissie laughed. "You'll get used to me." She stood up and started washing the dishes for him. It was only fair she do them since he'd cooked.
He watched her bustling around, clearing off the table. "You don't have to do that. I can." He felt like he should wait on her. She gave him so much, just by being her. How could he ask her to do something as mundane as dishes?
"You cooked. I can wash the dishes. Do you like your job?" she asked. She'd do dishes every single day for the rest of her life if it meant she only had to cook when she felt like cooking.
"Most of the time. I'm definitely happier here than I was in Chicago." When he'd started out, he'd been certain that being a cop in a big city was the way to make a difference in the world. It hadn't taken long for life to break him of that belief.
"You were a cop in Chicago?" she asked. "For how long?" She was surprised to hear that. Why would someone go from the big city to small town Wisconsin? It didn't make sense to her.
"Ten years," he said, wishing he hadn't gone down that road. He wasn't ready to talk about Chicago yet. "I've been here for two years."
"Wow. Twelve years as a cop! That's a long time." She couldn't imagine doing that difficult of a job day in and day out for twelve years. She knew herself well enough to know she couldn't handle it for more than a day or two.
He nodded. "I started straight out of college. I got a degree in criminal justice first. I was sure I'd change the world."
"Are you disappointed? What made you move here from Chicago?"
"Disappointed, no. I think everyone has high expectations of what they can do when they graduate from college."
When he said nothing else, she turned to him, leaning against the counter. "And why did you leave Chicago?"
He frowned at her question, trying to put into words how he'd felt when he left without revealing too much. "Chicago wasn't a place where I felt I could make a difference. The violence was everywhere. One cop couldn't make any clear cut changes in the way things were. It's different here. Life is simpler. There are no gang fights. We don't find children in dumpsters in the back of alleys." He shrugged. "I needed to be somewhere I felt I was needed and I could make a difference. Chicago wasn't that place."
"It sounds like you've got some stories to tell," she said softly, wishing she hadn't asked the question that filled his voice with sadness. They were supposed to be happy. It was still their wedding day after all.
She moved behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, rubbing the tension from them. "I'm here to listen when you're ready to talk about whatever happened. Until then, I'm here to make you forget." She dropped a kiss on top of his head. "You know, the only plate left is the one you're eating off of. If you'll give it to me, maybe we could go snuggle on the couch and make out or something."
He laughed. "Make out, huh? Is that all you think about?" He hoped Cissie was always of the attitude that everything could be made better with sex. It worked for him.
"I've been married about seven hours now to a man I think has got to be one of the sexiest men alive. I saw you last night and thought about calling the wedding off and following you." She took his plate and fork and put them into the dishwasher. "You said you didn't mind being my sex object."
Bob was thankful she'd changed the subject so easily. He didn't want to talk about what happened in Chicago yet. He wanted to spend time with her and soak in her joy in living. "Sure, let's go make out on the couch."
He let her precede him from the room, watching the way her robe swayed around her hips. Did she have anything on under that robe? He couldn't tell, but he sure wanted to find out. "Are you wearing anything under your robe?"
"Maybe." She looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a look that made him want to skip the couch and drag her straight off to bed.
He sat on the couch, and she sat beside him, as close to him as she could get without being on his lap. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. "So what do you want to do this week while we're both off work?"
She shrugged. "We could always go to the Dells. Maybe take one of the boat tours or a duck tour? I'm not sure if the duck tours are open this late in the year, but I know the boats are open 'til the end of October. Cindy and I thought about going last year, but we didn't think about it 'til the middle of November when it was too late."
"We could do that. We need to get some groceries. I didn't have time, because I did several doubles this past week." He stroked his hand over her arm. "And we probably need to go get your clothes from your house. Are you living here with me? We never even talked about that." It was weird sitting with his new bride, unsure of where they'd live. Nothing seemed to matter as long as she was with him, though.
"I live with my parents. They're gone half the year, doing their traveling thing, so I stay in their house. Easier for everyone involved. So yes, I'm living here with you." She nipped at his neck. "If you'll have me that is." It was a good thing he didn't have a roommate, because she was moving in with him no matter what. She didn't have a suitable place for them.
He turned to her on the couch, his lips meeting hers. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as a roommate."
"Roommate?" she asked.
"Hey, married people have to learn how to live with each other just like roommates do. But I plan on you being my roommate with benefits."
She put her palms flat on his chest, stroking him. "What kind of benefits?" she asked, just to see if she could make him blush again.
He chuckled, sliding his hand into her open robe. "Why don't we figure that out as we go along?" His hand encountered the silky fabric of her nightgown and he frowned. "You are wearing something under there!" He had truly expected her to be naked under the robe, and found he was a little let down that she wasn't.
She laughed. "I never said I w
asn't." She got to her feet and untied the robe, watching his face as she slowly dropped it to the floor.
Bob took a gulping breath, staring at her in the nightgown. It was obvious she had nothing on under it, and it stopped at the top of her thighs. He could see her hard nipples against the fabric. "You are so beautiful."
She smiled, completely uninhibited in front of him. Taking a step toward him, she was unsure of whether he would want to pull her into his lap or go to bed. After one indecisive moment, she made the decision herself. She wanted to sit on his lap and toy with him for a minute, so that's what she'd do.
He watched as she climbed onto his lap, straddling him, her hands on his bare shoulders. Her gown immediately bunched up and the only thing separating them was the thin fabric of his boxers.
"I've got you now," she said, her tone intimidating.
He laughed. "You do. What are you going to do with me?"
"I hadn't thought that far ahead," she admitted with a grin. "What do you want me to do with you?"
"Oh, I think the answer to that is pretty obvious." He pulled her hips flush against his, so she could feel his hard ridge against her softest parts.
"Oh!" she said, as if just then comprehending. "We could do that!" She pressed her lips to his, thankful he let her toy with him and play with him that way. She couldn't imagine being married to a man who took himself seriously. She rubbed herself against him, and he groaned softly.
"You know, I think we need to adjourn this to the bedroom. It's my turn to be on top." He guided her to her feet before standing up and pulling her against him. "I get turns too!"
She pouted at him. "But I liked being on top."
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to their bedroom, laying her on the bed. "You'll like this, too," he promised.
*****
At breakfast the next morning, Bob suggested they go ahead and get her things moved into his house, so she would feel more at home. Really, he wanted to be surrounded by her things. He wanted to feel like her presence and very existence was interwoven with his.
Dreaming in Dairyland Page 5
