good.
“I just wanted you to have something to thank you for all of your support and help,” she says quietly, staring me in the face. “And to let you know…how much it means to me.”
How much it means to her.
Not how much I mean to her.
Something inside me notes the distinction with a tiny stab of disappointment.
There? See? Just like I thought. My luck could never get that good. I have a statistically better chance of winning the lotto while being abducted by an alien spaceship while it’s being struck by lightning than I do of making Carly fall for me.
You want to know the funny thing?
For a cynical non-believer like me, that’s a surprisingly bitter pill to swallow.
16
Damon
But I nod, grateful for the gift anyway, and pull her in for a hug. A lingering kiss to her forehead.
That seems to satisfy her.
“You like it?” she asks brightly as I turn her loose.
“Yep,” I say gruffly. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
The tenderness in the D-word sticks it to me good. I decide to take myself out of the situation for a minute or two before I completely lose it.
“Time for your present,” I say, standing and turning toward the bedroom.
“I feel as though I’ve already had it.” She flops onto the sectional and settles in with unmitigated delight, kicking up her legs. “A successful gift. Flowers. Champagne. Dinner. Probably an amazing fucking later—”
“You can count on that last part,” I say over my shoulder.
“—and now another present. I’m a very lucky girl, aren’t I? Oh, what is it?”
I return with a smug grin and a giant lidded basket topped with a blue satin bow, which I carefully place on the coffee table in front of her as I resume my seat. The faint mewling and scuffling inside the box give away the whole surprise, but who cares? She’s already given me the exact dumbstruck look—wide-eyed and slack-jawed—that I was hoping for.
“You didn’t,” she says.
“One way to find out,” I say, shrugging.
Repressing a squeal, she yanks the ribbon loose and tosses the lid aside. Out pops the sorriest excuse for a cat that I could find at the local shelter. Black with a white muzzle and paws, he’s underweight, has patches of missing fur and an ear that looks as though some passing dog took a bite out of it. He’s even got a crazy meow that sounds more like a rowowow. But, to his credit, he’s got bright green eyes and a winning personality that includes a hearty purr and the ability to stand up on his hind legs and put his front paws around people’s necks in an enthusiastic feline hug.
“Oh my God, Damon,” she says, gasping as though I’ve presented her with some sleek new kitten from the latest designer cat breeder. “It’s a mangy used cat!”
“It is,” I say with immense satisfaction. “He’s got a skin condition, but that’s clearing up. He’s also gaining weight now that they’ve put him on some new food. I wanted to get you a nice, fresh cat from a certified breeder, but I figured that would get me in trouble for ignoring all the needy neighborhood cats. And I plan to get laid later, so I didn’t want to risk it.”
“Oh, you smart man!” By now, the cat has hit her with his winning hug move and is being rewarded with an enthusiastic round of hugs and kisses from his new mommy. His loud purring sounds as though it rightfully belongs to a Sumatran tiger. “You wonderful man! Thank you! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, princess,” I say, experiencing another one of those push–pull moments where something inside me swells and it’s all I can do to keep it inside my body.
Anything for you.
I’d give you the earth just to keep you looking at me like that.
Please stick around in my life.
I lean in to receive her thank-you kiss. And get rewarded for my good deed with a possessive swat across my face from Mr. Ungrateful.
“Hey!” I tell the cat. “Remember who rescued your very little ass.”
Naturally, this abuse makes Carly laugh. “He’s got attitude. I like that. What’s he called?”
“He’s called whatever you name him.”
“I shall call him…Ruprecht,” she says, holding him up Lion King style and presenting him to the empty living room. Until he squirms, demanding to be released to explore his new home.
“Ruprecht. Oddly fitting,” I say, pleased.
“Thank you, darling. You couldn’t have got me a better gift.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Did they give you some supplies for him?”
“Yeah. We’re good for tonight.” I