Draw Me A Picture (64 page)

“I like this room,” Michelle said, looking towards the window. “I won’t instigate any changes.” Hanging up his coat, William grinned, stripping off his sweater.

“I must admit I am enormously thankful you’re not a pink, frilly curtain type of girl, love,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt; he kept his eyes on his wife the entire time, taking in her form-fitting jeans. They looked worn to a velvety softness. Smiling with a rising anticipation, William inwardly reveled in the moment; he’d dreamed of her in here with him, many times. All the places they’d been and seen in the last two weeks aside, William wanted her most in their own home.

“Well, Lady of the castle... you seem a little over-dressed.” William’s words broke on Michelle’s ears like warm wind; she shivered but tried to suppress it. She didn’t dare turn around; the warmth radiating off the man standing behind her suggested he wasn’t wearing a whole lot.

“I suppose so,” she answered, finally. Gathering her courage, she turned around, looking William in the eyes. Her expression made an odd emotion drift through William; she looked calm but her eyes were lively, her growing exhilaration making them shine. He loved that look the best. Michelle offered him a small smile; it spoke of a little nervousness. William knew a fantastic cure for that.  

“Now I get to see exactly how ticklish you are...” he said, grinning down at her. Michelle’s blush vanished.

“You wouldn’t!” she said with a wide smile. William chuckled darkly, reaching out for her in a sudden movement. Michelle dodged him and laughed, only to find herself hurled onto the bed.

“Aha!” William said, victoriously. “Though you could out-maneuver me, you little m...” His words were cut short by his wife’s fingertips, softly exploring his chest and arms; her actions nearly made her man pass out.

“Michelle,” William finished. “You’ve no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“I do,” Michelle whispered. “Exactly what you do to me.” William thought her words were the most alluring ever spoken. Michelle’s red shirt was tossed to the floor a few seconds later, soon after joined by her other clothes. Michelle let go her reserve a little more, knowing there really was no reason at all to feel uneasy.

Some hours later William awoke, finding himself once again in his own bed... but with company. Michelle lay still, her head resting on his chest. He felt her breathing. Caressing her hair, William sighed; he’d had dreams similar to this, but never did they end with him waking to Michelle in his arms.

“If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up,”
he thought. William slid out of bed very slowly, as not to wake the sleeping young woman. His bride stirred a little but did not wake.
 

Smiling, William hastily drew on a long sleeved t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, not really caring for formal attire at the moment. Locating his slippers, William ambled happily down the hall, through the dining room to the kitchen; it felt awfully good to be married. Whistling, he put on the tea and searched around in the fridge for some simple dinner items. Several minutes later, William emerged into the living room with a tray; the mood was simply to intimate to eat in the dining room. Setting the small meal down on the coffee table, William turned to head back to the bedroom and wake his lovely wife.

Michelle met him at the bedroom door, dressed in her long, dark-red robe, her all down and brushed bright. Blushing, she smiled at his clothes.

“You look very nice, sir,” she said, glancing up at him. William kissed her forehead and took her hand.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said. “You like the t-shirt and flannel look? I hear it’s all the rage now.” Michelle laughed, softly and walked with William down the hall.

“Oh, dinner!” she said, seeing the tray. “Wow... I was coming out to make us food. What a nice surprise.” William laughed a little at his wife’s enthusiasm.

“Sit down, minx,” he said, smiling. “It was my pleasure.” Michelle sat on the floor by the coffee table, her back to the couch.

“I don’t want to get any on the couches,” she explained. “We could pretend we’re eating sushi.” William joined her on the floor, chuckling.

“We’ll pretend together, then,” he said, pouring out some juice into the glasses. Their meal consisted of rolls, salad, sliced ham and cheese; Michelle fed William an olive, yelping as he lightly bit her fingertip.

“Listen Tarzan...” she said, pointing her finger at him. “You hungry? Eat food! Jane is not food...” William leaned back on the couch, laughing at his bride’s annoyed expression; Michelle could not help smiling as well.

“Tarzan eh?” he said, rubbing his chin and grinning. “I think that’s as good a nickname as any, love.” Michelle giggled.

“I’m Minx… and you get to be Tarzan? No, way... you’re terrible at tree-climbing.” William narrowed his eyes at Michelle.

“Is that so?” he said, leaning closer to her. “Well, Minx, I think you’re asking for it.”

“Ah, the inevitable empty threat...” Michelle returned, gleefully. She realized she’d made a tactical error at once; there was very little space to maneuver away and run.

William lifted his wife off the floor and tossed her onto the couch before she had time to bolt; he tickled her for good measure, liking the sound of her laughter very much. Giggling hard, Michelle tried to wiggle away... to no avail. Enjoying himself thoroughly, William prevented his bride’s escape by straddling her on the couch. Chuckling, he glanced down; Michelle’s robe had come open a little. Halting his tickling endeavors, William allowed his wife a few moments to catch her breath.

“You’re not wearing a shirt under this?” he asked, his voice a little strained. Michelle met his gaze, her breast rising and falling rapidly still.

“Uh, no,” she said, smiling. She bit her bottom lip, but William saw it was not from shyness. Her eyes almost glowed with exercise and something else a trifle more enticing.

“Bloody hell...” William thought. He liked Michelle’s version of visual entrapment. Very much so. She regarded him with a rather warm gaze.

“You’re a bit overdressed, sir,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

“Hm... shy Michelle is temporarily gone and the Minx has replaced her.” William said, untying Michelle’s sash. His wife laughed, softly.

“Every girl has an inner vixen, you know,” she informed him. “I just don’t let mine out to play very often.” William lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Interesting,” he said, grinning; his smile made Michelle feel very much at home.

Several minutes later, Michelle touched William’s face with her fingertips. He seemed very pleased with himself; they rested on the couch, covered partially with Michelle’ robe.

“In spite of your lack of tree-climbing abilities,” she said, quietly, ”… You’ve earned the nickname, in my opinion.” William chuckled.

“I’m flattered,” he said, sitting up a little. “You know I’m liable to get spoiled with all this... activity, you know.”

“Activity?” Michelle said, with mock-surprise on her face. “Is that what we’re calling it? Yes, well, don’t worry you’re going back to work on Monday. Then you’ll have to wait for activities until you return home to me in the evening.”

“Now, that sounds bloody depressing,” William said, grimacing. Looking over at Michelle, he grinned; she sat up on the couch, her blood-red robe draped over her. “Don’t worry love. I’ll find ways around that.” Michelle liked his tone but refrained from showing it. She did watch him put on his clothes again, however. Walking through the dining room, William carried the tray back.

“I could get very used to such frequent activity,” he thought, grinning. He felt like he’d been dosed with raging teenager hormones again. Not that he minded.

Pulling on her robe once more, Michelle glanced over at William’s side table, a little off to one side of the living room. She saw the wedding gifts piled there and smiled.

“William?” she called, tying her sash. Her husband strolled through the door, smiling at her boyishly.

“Present,” he said. Michelle grinned at him and pointed to the gifts. “Oh, yes. I guess we forgot to open those. I have been a bit... distracted.” He kissed Michelle’s neck and walked over to the side table. “There was one in particular I was curious about...” He spied the lime-covered gift and brought it out, grinning. “Here it is,” he said. Michelle stood next to him, looking at the gift.

“You do know that my uncle has nothing against the British, right?” she asked, looking up at William; he chuckled.

“I am aware of that, love,” he said. “It’s kind of a joke between us.” Michelle located a trash-bin and brought it over.

The gift turned out to be an electric knife and a DVD; the movie was really an episode of a popular cooking show, showing one how to cut a fruit bowl out of a watermelon. William laughed a good deal over it, especially the note included. It read: 'Everyone needs to know how to cut a fruit bowl. Better luck with yours'.

“At least he didn’t include Bob’s saw...” William said, smiling. The knife was a rather good one, even in his estimation; it would be handy carving meat and so forth.

“True,” Michelle commented. “Perhaps we should try it out one day; it’s the kind of thing one would use for parties and things.” Looking at the DVD cover, William grinned; his eyes were full of humor.

“I have an idea,” he said.

THE DOORBELL roused Oscar from his couch; hitting the mute button on the football game, he adjusted his sweater and opened the door. No one was out there, but on his doorstep, sitting in the evening chill was a perfectly cut watermelon bowl, with fruit salad in it. Grinning, Oscar picked it up.

“Ok… show yourselves,” he said, loudly. Around the corner came a little laugher, William and Michelle came around, both smiling. The young people looked happy and in love. “I see you’ve put my gift to good use,” the man said. “Come inside a minute.”

“Why thank you,” William said, jovially. “Don’t mind if we do.”

Installed in the warm living room, the two guests accepted a cup of decaf from Oscar. He sat down, looking at them both a minute.

“I’m not going to be obvious and ask if you have a good time,” he began, grinning at William. “I can see you did.” Michelle blushed and smiled.

“Yes, we did,” she answered. “Thank you for not asking.” Her uncle chuckled.

“Anytime,” he said. “I have some good news, myself.” At this William sat forward a little.

“What now?”
he thought. With Oscar it could be anything, literally; perhaps the man had decided to join a ‘green’ group to herd goats, grow carrots and picket oil-tankers.
 

Seeing his small audience was listening, Oscar smiled.

“I’m moving to California,” he said. Michelle’s eyebrows went up; questions were on the tip of her tongue. Holding her peace, she waited for her uncle to explain.

“I’ve heard that the climate there is very nice,” William said, carefully. Oscar stood up, walking over to the window. Snow was already falling again.

“Hence its appeal,” he said, turning back to his guests. “I don’t want to wade through another New York winter.”

“I understand that,” Michelle said, quietly. “Do you know where you’d be settling?”

“I think I’ll try Sacramento,” Oscar answered, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I liked capitals and I hear the market’s ripe for buyers, and there are more than a few law firms teetering
on the brink. Good place for me.”
 

William chuckled.

“Yes. As they taught us in law school: ‘the early vulture gathers the carrion’,” he said, amused. Oscar laughed.

“That's not bad,” he remarked. “I’ll have to remember that one.” He looked over at Michelle. “I hope you guys will come out and visit sometime,” he said, sobering. “Keep in touch and all that?” Michelle smiled at him fondly.

“We will,” she promised. “Do you think you’ll like living in... Sacramento?” Oscar thought for a moment.

“I think so,” he said. “Can’t be worse with all that sunshine.”

“The man has a point,” William said. “I bet Bob will be getting a promotion.” Oscar grinned, walking back over to the couch; he sat down again, fixing William with his flint-gray stare.

“Over the main office, yeah,” Oscar said. “Bob knows almost as much about running the place as me. The new office, however, needs you to run it.”

It took a moment, but slowly William and Michelle realized what Oscar just said. Michelle smiled, very wide; she wanted to hop up and clap her hands, but refrained. William blinked, allowed his calm facade to crack; he grinned.

“I won’t disappoint you, sir,” he said. Oscar nodded, sagely.

“I know,” he said. “You’re too stubborn to disappoint and you’re damn good at your job. I think you can manage a branch office just fine.” Michelle kissed William’s cheek. She favored her uncle with a bright smile.

“I know for certain that this has nothing whatsoever to do with me,” she said, sighing. “You’d never do family favors.” This time, Oscar laughed, hard.

“You know me too well already,” he said. “Well, get on with you two. I need some sleep.”

William shook his hand before they left. “We’ll talk Monday, sport,” Oscar told him. “Until then, enjoy your weekend with your bride.” He gave Michelle a small hug and watched them walk down the steps to a waiting taxicab.

“Wow…” Michelle said. “You get a wife and a promotion all in the same month.” William smiled down at her, liking her animated demeanor.

“It is a good promotion love, in more ways than one,” he said, opening the cab door. “As the branch boss, I’d get more time off and a bit more flexibility in my schedule.” Michelle considered his words as they got in the taxi.

“So, you’ll be able to come home more often?” she asked, her face coloring a little. William smiled, lifting one eyebrow.

“As I recall, I promised you babies,” he said, leaning down to her ear. “I plan to deliver on that promise.” Michelle smiled at this.

“I see,” she said, drawing back from his face a little. Looking into his bright blue eyes, Michelle saw herself reflected in them. Her reflection smiled back. “I hope they have your gorgeous eyes, William.”