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“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling stupid. “I don’t look the same. I might have some good muscle tone, but it is really lean. I haven’t been to the gym or jogged?—”

“Shut up,” she repeated a little more forcefully, kissing his lips to silence him, and then kissing a pathway down his body, paying careful attention to each of his scars. She lingered on his chest, sucking his nipples and scraping them with her teeth just the way he liked.

At her touch, his penis came to life and grew painfully hard. He was glad to see it still worked. It didn’t matter that he’d been without her for almost a year; his body would always respond to her. She was his—for now, forever.

She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his fly, and pushed his jeans and boxers down to free his aching erection. When she bent and kissed the rosy tip, he had to grab the edge of the counter to keep his balance.

“Well, something is still the same,” she said.

“Easy there, lioness,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “When it comes to you, I have no control.”

She smiled up at him and then continued her exploration, pushing his jeans down further, her fingers eventually reaching the two waterproof bandages on his thigh, which covered the bullet entry and exit wounds.

The color drained from her face, like a color photo turning instantly to black and white.

Bending, he grabbed her by the elbows to steady her and then gently raised her to a standing position. “They don’t hurt, and I can get them wet, so don’t look so scared.”

“You said it was a nick. You have a bullet wound in your leg,” she said. “You didn’t mention it was a bullet hole. I can be scared if I want.” There was an edge of feistiness to her voice. It had been a long time, and the realization made him smile.

“Enough about me. It’s your turn,” he said, reaching for the bottom edge of his old fleece pullover. “I cannot believe you kept this.”

“It was yours,” she said.

“You gave it to me.”

Her body was rounder, softer. All the soft edges that he loved touching were lusher and sexier. Her breasts were swollen and larger. When he thought of how she had fed their baby, he had to grit his teeth to keep from losing it again.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and pulled her to him.

They stepped into the shower, a large, honey calcite tile structure her parents had updated when they updated all the bathrooms. Her father had once called it the fun shower. He could guess why.

Their bodies joined as warm water ran over them. Familiar textures brought back a flood of memories.

“Are you sure you are strong enough…that it’s okay for us to?—”

“Yes, I even asked the doctor, mentioned I’d be seeing my beautiful wife after a year without her,” he said. “He told me I was a lucky bastard. Now, how about you? Are you healed after the baby?”

“Yes, I was cleared for all normal sexual activity almost three weeks ago,” she said, smiling. “I can make love with my husband, if it is okay for him.”

“Define normal.”

“Well, don’t ride me too hard in the beginning, but a little hard is fine.”

“I’ve thought about making love with you every day for the last eleven months.”

He nudged her legs apart as his hand slipped into her warm folds and began to stroke her intimately, using the movements he knew she liked. She placed her hands on his shoulders and threw her head back as she moaned in pleasure.

“Soon, I’ll be well enough to make love to you standing up. Remember how you liked it when I pinned you to the wall?” he whispered in her ear as his hands continued to explore her.

“Oh yes,” she managed.

“For now, let’s take the fastest shower in history and find the nearest flat surface or, preferably, a soft bed. I want to be inside you.”

Faster than he’d have thought possible, they were in her bedroom, a replica of the bedroom in her New York loft, complete with the red sheets.

She was there but having another moment.

“Rebecca, I’m here. This isn’t a dream. I swear to you, I’m never leaving again. Would you like me to pinch you?” he asked as his hand rubbed over her naked bottom.

“You’re never leaving my sight again,” she murmured, burying her face against his chest. “Because this time, I won’t let you go. No matter what you say. I’d tie you up to keep you from going to someplace like Iraq or even the corner grocery store. Understand?”

Her warm tears trickled down his chest. “I understand. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to go. I should have listened to you,” he said, running his hand from her shoulder to hip, marveling at her curves as he tried to calm her.

Brushing his cheek with her fingertips, she whispered, “Help me to forget.”

“Happy to,” he said.

Moving down to the end of the bed, he started with her toes and kissed his way up her body, marveling at her smooth skin and how close he’d come to never seeing her again. Her calves were as muscular as he remembered, and her inner thighs were just as soft and welcoming as they had always been.

She smiled and spread her legs open in welcome. He wanted to taste her, but he was aching with need, so he addressed what needed the most attention first. He placed his hands under her butt and pulled her to him. Her hands reached for him and landed on his shoulders as she said, “Please, Mitch.”

He felt the warmth of her skin as her legs wrapped around his waist. Then he guided himself into her, watching as her eyes fluttered, as her mouth opened and closed in surprise at the joining of their bodies. He felt her muscles contract around him, shut his eyes, and smiled. He was finally home.

“I didn’t do that correctly,” he managed, his voice surprisingly thick with emotion as they lay tangled together but hadn’t started to move together.

“I know you were gone a long time, but that is the way you do it, and it feels good,” Rebecca said, her first genuine chuckle cutting through the howling wind beyond the window. It was good to hear her laugh. For a few hours, he’d wondered if he’d ever hear the sound again.

“Not that,” he said, his hand running the length of her back. “That, feeling your warmth, that is wonderful. And it is about to get better.”

He kissed her then, and the emotions wrapped around him like tight silk cords. He’d come so close to losing everything. He couldn’t get his mind around it. The only thing he could do was move forward and make it up to her and their child.

He started moving and saw her smile.

“I meant the proposal,” he said as he paused, his hand still gently cupping her bare bottom as she snuggled against him, wanting to take him deeper.

“We are already married. Did you forget?” she asked, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as she pulled him to her. “I’m Mrs. Mitchell Wilder, your wife.”

“I know that, but I want to do it again with your family there. My captors took my ring, so I want to do it with a new one.” He took a deep breath and asked, “Rebecca Stark Wilder, my sweet Bex, will you do me the honor of marrying me again?”

“I’d marry you again tomorrow, or any day for that matter. If we can find an open justice of the peace, I’d do it now,” she said as she looked into his eyes. “But if you don’t start moving, I’m going to flip you over and take advantage of you.”

“I’m sorry, but that was important. Next week is fine. We do have an anniversary coming up,” he said as he gently started to move within her, watching her eyes grow cloudy as her voice hitched.

“I…haven’t gotten you anything…yet,” she managed.

“All I need,” he said while he was still capable of speaking, “is you.”

After they made love that first time, he held her softly, almost carefully.

Her eyes never left his face as she looked at him, taking in each new line and change in his face.

He hoped she wasn’t disappointed with him.

The last year had taken its toll on him.

He might be only in his thirties, but he looked like he was in his sixties.

Their climaxes were a little muted, comfortable in the way they didn’t elicit a scream but soft moans instead. And all too soon, it was over, and they were facing each other, side to side.

“I’m sorry that was so fast,” he said.

“It was our first time in almost a year. It wasn’t meant to be long. Next time or the time after…”

“I’ll keep making love to you until we get it right. Here,” he said, “Let me spoon you while we sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“No,” she murmured, her hand resting on his cheek. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I’m right here,” he protested, but she shook her head.

“I want you to hold me, but I want to be facing you,” she said.

“You aren’t going to sleep at all tonight, are you?” he asked.

“Maybe not,” she admitted, and moved closer to him.

They made love several times that night.

He was exhausted, his body demanding rest, but he wanted Rebecca more…

to be with her, to hold her, and to be inside of her as he had dreamed of every night since his capture.

Each time he woke up, he found her watching him.

He’d kiss her, roll her onto her back, and another round of loving would begin.

It wasn’t their most adventurous lovemaking, but it was definitely the most intimate.

Several times in the night, the baby cried, and Rebecca had to get up to feed her. As she put her robe on, he could sense the pause after she tied her belt.

“Why don’t I come with you?” he asked, reaching for his jeans and T-shirt.

“Please,” she said. He didn’t want to shut his eyes for fear he’d wake up back in the jail cell in Iraq, but he couldn’t help it. She wasn’t the only one who wondered if she’d died and gone to heaven.

They walked hand in hand across the hall to the nursery.

Rebecca sat on a small loveseat and fed Emily, holding the baby to her full breast. After ten minutes or so, she would switch to the other breast. Mitch gently caressed the baby’s soft head.

His eyes met Rebecca’s, and they smiled at each other.

“I was so worried I wouldn’t find you again when I was in Germany, but that was stupid. I just needed to call Alex. Then I worried that you’d met someone while I was gone. That was a much different kind of Hell,” he murmured.

“No one will ever compare to how I feel about you,” Rebecca said.

“Good,” he said, and kissed Rebecca.

Emily had finished nursing, so Rebecca handed her to him. He gently held Emily to his shoulder and patted her back the way Rebecca had shown him.

Rebecca smiled at him in a way that had him asking, “How am I doing?”

“You are doing great, Dad.”