I put the mystery box on the console table and head upstairs to grab my tablet. My phone vibrates in my pocket; it’s a message from Olivia, saying the reader feedback she’s getting about the new covers is terrific. I sit cross-legged on the bed and type back excitedly. I’m eager to let her know that I’ve been able to draw a little bit as my hand has been healing. I’m hoping I’ll be back to full steam soon, because the lack of income has been stressing me out.
“Adair?”
Uh-oh. I don’t know what I did yet, but Jack using my actual name —not Bunny, not even Addy —means I definitely fucked up. That thought goes through my head as I notice the time.
Shit—where did half an hour go? I have a mental image of myself grabbing that box from the front steps right after I put the grocery bags down onto the counter… where they’re still sitting.
I smack my forehead with a groan. And I’d picked up ice cream, too. My apology is already tumbling out of my mouth as I dash into the kitchen, cringing at the thought of the pissed-off expression I’m expecting to see on Jack’s face.
“Shit, I’m so sorry —it completely slipped my mind —there was a box on the steps — I went to grab it and I was gonna come back and put the stuff away. I’m sorry, I can’t believe I forgot —”
He barks out a laugh as he deposits the ruined ice cream in the sink. “Really? You can’t believe you forgot?” With a snort, he shakes his head. “Because I sure can.”
To my utter shock, he doesn’t seem furious. Irritated, sure —but he looks and sounds amused as well as annoyed. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I promise,” I say, grabbing the spray bottle of cleaner and a couple of rags so I can mop up the puddle of melted ice cream.
Jack sighs, but it sounds more weary than angry. “Oh, don’t promise that. It’s not going to happen. You’re scatterbrained as hell. But I love you.”
Why is Jack being so weird? I frown at him. “Why are you being so weird?”
He doesn’t answer me, just holds a palm flat against the milk carton with a grimace. “I’m not sure this survived, but maybe we’ll get lucky,” he says.
“I’msosorry I forgot about the groceries. I was going to put them away but I went to get that box from the front steps, and after that —”
“Right. Slipped your mind,” Jack interrupts, but he still doesn’t sound angry. “Why don’t you grab that box, then? Bring it into the living room.”
“What is it?” I ask a minute later.
“It’s for you,” he says, answering me without answering. He hands me his pocketknife. “Here. Why don’t you open it?”
Inside is a plush blanket. I flip up a corner and run my fingers over the fuzzy fleece back. When I glance up at Jack with a frown, I’m surprised to see a smile spreading across his face. “Unfold it.”
I grab two corners and shake it apart. “What —how…” My mouth drops open when I realize what’s printed on it: Our wedding picture —the one Jack teases me about every time he sees me staring at it. I put a hand over my mouth.
“I used one of those places where you can get photos printed on coffee mugs and shit. I dug up the digital file and had it made.”
My laugh is shaky with emotion. “I know how those places work. But why? What made you think of it?”
“Well, you love that picture so much, and I know you really liked the blanket that got scorched.” He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, that uncharacteristically soft smile still on his face. “Figured this could be kind of like, you know, an early anniversary present.”
His last syllable is all but drowned out by my squeal as I throw my arms around him. “Oh my God, thank you so much! I love it.”
I stand on my toes and bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. “I loveyou,” I mumble against his skin, fighting a losing battle against tears.
His arms wrap around me as his beard tickles my ear. “Love you, too, Bunny.”
I pick up the blanket, cuddling it and rubbing my face against the fluffy material. “It’s super-soft.”
Jack chuckles. “Yeah, try not to burn this one, because it’s some synthetic shit that’ll probably go up like a match if it catches fire.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Will do, butonlybecause you asked so nicely,” I tease. I give the blanket a shake to spread it out so I can look at the picture again. As I run my hand over the velvety plush, I feel a mischievous grin come over my face. I snicker, which makes Jack look at me.
“I can’t wait to tell people how much I love sitting on your face,” I tell him. A look of genuine surprise flashes over his features before he lets out a snort and grabs me.
He throws me over his shoulder. “Fucking brat,” he says, but without any heat in his voice. He aims a few shots at my ass, but they’re lighthearted enough that I’m still giggling when he puts me down again.
I feel my face fall. “I didn’t get you anything, though.”
The wolfish smile that slips onto Jack’s features sends a trickle of fear and arousal down my spine. His laugh rumbles low in his throat. “Oh, what I want from you isn’t something you can buy.”
