Page 14 of Shelter for Martina

He drove. He wasn’t sure where he should go, but he didn’t want to tell her that. When he pulled up in her driveway, he realized that hadn’t been what he’d meant to do. His first thought was to go to WashburnLake and make out with her, but that was what kids did, right? That was what the kids had done when he was growing up anyway. Where did they go to make out now? He had no idea. The truck came to a stop, and he threw it in park and waited. Neither said anything for a full minute until Martina finally said, “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

In his mind, Bud saw a giant neon sign flashingGO FOR BROKE. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve done everything right. I think the problem here is that I have no idea how to let you know what I’m feeling right now, and I have no idea what to do about it either.”

“And what are you feeling?” she asked quietly.

“Things I shouldn’t.”

“Who says you shouldn’t?”

Well, now, that was a very good question. “I mean, this is our first date, and we haven’t talked about a lot of things yet, and I—”

“Albert?” At the sound of his name, he stopped cold. “I don’t know if you’ve realized it or not, but life is short. Both of us know that. If there’s something you want, or need to say, or want to tell me, I think you should.” When he sat there, mute and afraid, she added, “Because I want you to know I don’t want you to go home.”

He could feel his whole body say,Whew!“I don’t want to go home. At least not without you.”

“Good. Come on in. Let’s have some coffee and talk for a minute. How’s that?”

“Sounds good.” Instead of waiting for him to open her door, she got out and made her way up the steps, Bud trailing her. Once inside, she set about starting the coffeemaker, then sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her.

Bud sat down, his back stiff as a poker and his feet firmly planted on the floor. “So,” Martina started, “what’s your philosophy on long-term relationships?”

“Um, what do you mean?”Jesus, I’m not good at this, he thought.

“Let me try this again. So have you been in any relationships since your wife—Becky?—died?” she asked.

“Yeah. Becky. I mean, yeah, her name was Becky. And no, I haven’t.”

“Do you believe in short-term relationships, like hook-ups and one night stands? Or are you a make-a-commitment kind of guy?”

“I don’t do hook-ups or one night stands.”

“Good. I don’t either.”

He decided it was his turn. “So have you been in any relationships since your husband died? I’m sorry, I don’t know his name.”

“His name was Jason. And I went out on a couple of dates, but they amounted to nothing, and no, I didn’t sleep with the guys. I knew ten minutes after I sat down with them that they were poor choices. So that was that.”

He held his breath, not knowing if he’d like the answer to his next question. “So what do you think about me?”

“I think you’re the kind of man a woman would want to have beside her through life’s ups and downs.”

“Remember what I said I wanted to do at the mall?” he asked, afraid to so much as blink.

A sweet smile spread across her face. “Yes. And I would like it if you’d do that.”

It amazed him, the timidity that took over as he leaned toward her, but as soon as his lips touched hers, that all dissolved into a white-hot need that shocked him. He wanted her, and he hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a long time, not even Becky. Sure, they’d loved each other, but as her illness ran on, all thoughts of romance and passion had been replaced with the need to keep her alive and make sure she was comfortable. Intimacy had been something they’d subconsciously agreed was no longer important. Suddenly, it seemed like the most important thing in the world. When he felt Martina’s arms wrap around his neck, he pressed his big hands around her waist and pulled her toward him, and she yielded to him as though she’d known he’d reach for her.

BEEP!

He pulled back abruptly and she laughed. “Guess the coffee’s done!” When he didn’t move, she giggled. “Want some? Or should we just stay here like this?”

“I’d prefer to stay here like this, but I’m sure we can go back to it, right?”

“Right! Black, correct?”

“Yep.” That reminded him of something, and he decided it couldn’t wait. It was a deal-breaker. “Martina?”

She’d reached for two cups and was pouring them full of the hot, fragrant liquid. “Um-hmmm?”

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