Hopeless

marrying you with the hope that our marriage will work out. When you become mine, it’ll be a forever thing. I’ve told you before that the only thing that matters to me with you are the forevers, and I mean that.”
    I smile at him, somehow a little bit more in love with him than I was thirty seconds ago. “Wow. You didn’t need much time to think those words out.”
    He shakes his head. “That’s because I’ve been thinking about forever with you since the second I saw you in the grocery store.”
    Our food couldn’t have arrived at a more perfect time, because I have no idea how to respond to that. I pick up my fork to take a bite but he reaches across the table and snatches it out of my hand.
    “No cheating,” he says. “We’re not finished and I’m about to get really personal with my question.” He takes a bite of his food and chews it slowly as I wait for him to ask me his “really personal” question. After he takes a drink, he takes another bite of food and grins at me, purposefully dragging out his turn so he can eat.
    “Ask me a damn question,” I say with feigned irritation.
    He laughs and wipes his mouth with his napkin, then leans forward. “Are you on birth control?” he asks in a hushed voice.
    His question makes me laugh; because it really isn’t all that personal when you’re asking the girl you’re having sex with. “No, I’m not,” I admit. “I never really had a reason to be on it before you came barging into my life.”
    “Well, I want you on it,” he says decisively. “Make an appointment this week.”
    I balk at his rudeness. “You could ask me a little more politely, you know.”
    He arches an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his drink, then places it calmly back down on the table in front of him. “My bad.” He smiles and flashes his dimples at me. “Let me rephrase my words, then,” he says, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. “I plan on making love to you, Sky. A lot. Pretty much any chance we get, because I rather enjoyed you this weekend, despite the circumstances surrounding it all. So in order for me to continue to make love to you, I would very much appreciate it if you would make alternative contraceptive arrangements so that we don’t find ourselves in a pregnancy-induced marriage with an expiration date on it. Do you think you could do that for me? So that we can continue to have lots and lots and lots of sex?”
    I keep my eyes locked on his as I slide my empty glass to the waitress who is now staring at Holder with her jaw wide open. I keep a straight face when I reply.
    “That’s much better,” I say. “And yes. I believe I can arrange that.”
    He nods once, then slides his glass next to mine, glancing up at the waitress. She finally snaps out of her trance and quickly refills our glasses, then walks away. As soon as she’s gone, I glare at Holder and shake my head. “You’re evil, Dean Holder,” I laugh.
    “What?” he says innocently.
    “It should be illegal for the words ‘make love’ and ‘sex’ to flow past your lips when in the presence of any female besides the one who actually gets to experience you. I don’t think you realize what you do to women.”
    He shakes his head and attempts to brush off my comment.
    “I’m serious, Holder. Without trying to explode your ego, you should know that you’re incredibly appealing to pretty much any female with a pulse. I mean, think about it. I can’t even count the number of guys I’ve met in my life, yet somehow you’re the only one I’ve ever been attracted to? Explain that one.”
    He laughs. “That’s an easy one, babe.”
    “How so?”
    “Because,” he says, looking at me pointedly. “You already loved me before you saw me in the grocery store that day. Just because you blocked the memory of me out of your mind doesn’t mean you blocked the memory of me out of your heart.” He brings a forkful of food to his mouth, but pauses before he takes a bite. “Maybe you’re right, though. It could have just been the fact that you wanted to lick my dimples,” he says, shoving the forkful into his mouth.
    “It was definitely the dimples,” I say, smiling. I can’t count the number of times he’s made me smile in the half hour that we’ve been here, and I’ve somehow eaten half of the food on my plate. His presence alone works wonders for a wounded soul .

We’re a block from Karen’s house when I ask him to pull over. The anticipation during the drive over here