that cursed brunch and we hadn’t eaten when we got back.
Lucas wasn’t in bed with me. The door to the washroom was shut, and the shower was on. I got up and raided the fridge, happily finding the leftover treats from last night’s rooftop escapade neatly packaged away there. Thank goodness for the unseen angels otherwise known as personal guest butlers.
Wow, was this for real? Was this my life, even if for a short while? High fallutin’ theme parties, romantic rooftop poolside sex and private airplane trips?
Livin’ the high life! Who’d’a thunk it? Little ole Kat Ellis from PoCo, the burbs of Vancouver, a baroness and flying in private jets.
Soon after snacking, dressing and packing our things, we were ready to catch a private car to the airport. But I’d almost forgotten about the very special souvenir I’d purchased from Napa. “Hey, there, husband,” I crooned. “I got you a special gift.”
He arched a brow. “Why do I feel like I should be very afraid right now?”
I sent him a cheesy grin and pulled my hands out from behind my back, each one holding a miniature ball cactus. “Look, friends for Cocky! We can arrange them in a very… suggestive fashion, if you will.”
His eyes narrowed, landing on my gift but I could tell he was fighting laughter. He didn’t want to give me the satisfaction, but I could tell he was highly amused. “Someone might think you have a penis fixation.”
I made a face at him. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Of course, I have a penis fixation. Jeez. You of all people should know.”
There was a look on his face then. I couldn’t exactly read it—more amusement, for sure, but also something like admiration. I made sure to wrap the newfound treasures up safely so they’d survive the flight and be able to join their friend Cocky the Cocktus as our centerpiece.
Getting home was as simple as I-commandeered-my-private-Gulfstream-with-personal-pilot-and-flight-attendant. It was just a ninety-minute flight from exclusive Napa airport followed by a quick zip up the freeway to get home.
Once home, we collapsed, exhausted, at nearly three a.m.
We didn’t sleep in, unfortunately. So the next morning, both of us moved around the house like zombies. Lucas had got up earlier than me, making a run to get a few groceries so we’d have some toast and milk for breakfast. I was tidying up the house when the doorbell rang.
Michaela called out on the other side and I ran to open it. Max almost bowled me over in his excitement, tail wagging, mouth open and full of slobber. I knelt down and gave the dog a big hug and kiss. “Hey, puppy! Did you have fun at doggy camp?”
Michaela laughed. “He had a blast. Even has some new lady friends.”
I unclipped Max’s leash from his collar and took it from Michaela. “Max, you’re such a dog!”
“I think he was bummed to leave early but Lucas texted me yesterday telling me you guys would be home early. I knew he’d really miss the dog, so I decided to do him a favor and get the pup early.”
I stroked the dog’s head. “Come in. Lucas will be back any minute with breakfast.”
Michaela shook her head. “I’m starting a new job at the university and I have to get over there, so I can’t stay. But I figured you’d want your mail.” She handed me a grocery bag that had been slung over her shoulder.
I took it from her and wished her well. Lucas was coming up the walkway as she turned to leave. They spoke for a few minutes as I went and dumped the bag of mail on the table. Lucas came into the kitchen shortly afterward with the groceries. And a box of donuts.
They weren’t half bad donuts. I realized after spying the address on the box, that he’d driven out of his way to get them. After the discussion about Timmy’s donuts yesterday, this struck me as a sweet gesture.
Yet when I acknowledged it, he gave a gruff shrug, blank-faced. He refused to admit that he’d done something nice. I studied him with serious side-eye. He seemed to be falling back into default grump-man mode. Like the weekend had never happened.
But I knew better. Because it had.
Lucas proceeded to sift through the mail Michaela had collected while we were away. He arranged them in piles. Sales circulars and junk mail. Bills. And then without a word, he took one thick white envelope and plopped it on the