Most of All You: A Love Story(70)

I felt happy not to have to drag around a leg that felt twice as heavy as the other, but I also felt vaguely sad. He was right. I was literally back on my own two feet. There was no real reason for me to be at Gabriel’s house anymore. I pushed the thought away for now. I wanted this weekend with him, even if it was the last one.

As soon as I walked in the door, I told Gabriel I was going to shave my leg. Seeing it in the bright light of the doctor’s office had told me undoubtedly that I was long overdue. As a matter of fact, both legs could use some attention. I hadn’t been overly concerned with my appearance in weeks. It had been a nice vacation from the constant grooming I’d needed to do as a stripper, but I didn’t want to think about that right now, either. I wasn’t shaving for aesthetics. I was shaving because, in all honesty, my legs just felt gross.

“Let me help,” Gabriel said.

I laughed. “Shave my legs?”

He smiled a crooked smile. “Yes.”

I shrugged. “If you want to.”

We lingered over dinner and a couple of glasses of celebratory champagne, Gabriel laughing because I got up a couple of times and did a funny sort of jog/limp in place simply because I could, and because I needed to strengthen my muscles. I swore I was never going to take my body for granted again.

After cleaning the kitchen, he pulled me by my hand. “Come on.” I followed him into his bedroom, glancing around at the simple furniture, the bookshelves overflowing with hardbacks and paperbacks, the small desk with a laptop sitting open on top, the bed made up with a navy comforter and a stack of pillows against the headboard.

Gabriel led me straight to the bathroom, where there was a large tub. He ran the water and I took a seat on the side, rolling up my yoga pants and swinging my legs over. I laughed. “This is definitely something I’ve never done.”

Gabriel grinned as he rolled up his jeans and stepped into the tub, kneeling. I laughed again. “You’re getting your jeans all wet.”

“I don’t care. Sit back. Let me pamper you.”

I leaned against the wall, watching him as he took the cover off a new disposable razor and lathered his hands with soap. I sighed. Just the feel of soaking my feet in the warm water while I relaxed felt so good. He rubbed the soap gently on one leg, and I watched his hands slide over my skin. I couldn’t help thinking of the work he did. This is what the puppies and rabbits and cherubs must feel like. Cared for. Cherished. Brought to life. This is what all those flowers and leaves and twining vines that used to be square lumps of rock must feel like. Set free. Renewed. Made beautiful beneath his capable hands.

I swallowed, the moment suddenly feeling so poignant, so intimate, so erotic as his hands glided down my legs, massaging gently until I moaned. I saw Gabriel’s Adam’s apple move as he, too, swallowed. His expression was so focused, so intent on what he was doing.

He glanced at me as he picked up the razor, and his pupils looked slightly dilated. It occurred to me that this wasn’t only the first time he’d touched my skin with his hands. This was the first time he’d touched any woman. Tenderness exploded in my chest as I watched him drag the razor slowly up my leg. I felt breathless.

The razor moved gently up my skin, and his fingers followed behind it, ensuring he didn’t miss any spots. The knees of his jeans were soaked now, but he didn’t seem to notice. Steam rose in the air, and I realized I’d never been touched this way. Not once. Not ever. Caressed. Loved.

Gabriel rinsed the razor and turned the leg he’d shaved from side to side, assessing his work the way he did when he sculpted. His fingers moved to my anklebones and then down to my feet, where his hands massaged me lovingly. It felt so good I moaned again, longer this time. Gabriel’s eyes shot to mine, looking slightly glassy. “You’re so beautiful, Eloise. Every part of you.” He ran his finger over my anklebone again and up the arch of my foot. “You’re a work of art.”

A work of art.

I’d been told I was beautiful before. I’d been told I was gorgeous, sexy, irresistible, but somehow I’d never allowed those words to penetrate. They’d just been … words. It was as if they’d sat there on the surface of my skin. But I felt Gabriel’s words seep through my pores, into my blood, and deep to my bones. Right into my soul. I felt his words as if they were a benediction. And he’d only been talking about my ankle.

Butterflies fluttered in my tummy, and my clothes felt too tight, my skin too sensitive. With every movement, my T-shirt brushed over my nipples and made them feel tight and achy. A steady drumbeat of arousal was vibrating in my core, and my underwear was wet and too restricting.

“Gabriel,” I whispered. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to come up out of the shallow pool of water and lean over me and kiss me and then scoop me up and bring me to bed, but I didn’t know how to ask.

It looked as if he was turned on, too, so why didn’t he? He didn’t have to wonder if I was on birth control. He knew everything about me in that regard after caring for me while I’d been too sick to care for myself. What was it? What was stopping him? Did he worry if I was clean? If I slept with the men from the club? That I was tainted? I had made lots of stupid choices in my life, but I’d never been unsafe. Should I reassure him of that?

Or did he hesitate because of his own inexperience? Was he worried I’d say no? That he wouldn’t know what to do?