“That’s my favorite kind of surprise.”
She twirls away, and I watch her circulate around the warehouse handing out mini s’mores and compliments and smiles for everyone. People in her path light up as she passes, and my chest swells with pride that this amazing woman has agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.
That’s right. I proposed last month over a big dinner party at our place. Her whole family was there, and I popped the question between the amuse-bouche and the hors d’oeuvre courses. I got down on one knee like a damn gentleman and asked her to fuck me senseless for the rest of our natural lives.
All right, I was more eloquent than that. And she said yes, which made me the happiest son of a bitch to ever walk the earth.
“Hey, Dax.” Junie sidles up with a smile on her face and a mini s’more in one hand. “I really like your art.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And thanks for coming tonight, too.”
Junie grins wider. “Did you hear I’ve been driving a car?”
“I did. Simon said you were doing drivers ed classes. How’s that going?”
“Great.” She beams. “And maybe after I get my license, I can get a motorcycle license, too.”
“That would be awesome,” I tell her, meaning it. “Let me know if you need a lesson or two.”
“Deal.” She looks down at the dog, who eyes her s’more with lust-filled eyes. “Can I take Miss Kitty for a walk?”
“Sure thing. Her leashes are on that hook by the door. Pick whichever one you want. I think the orange one you like is on the end.”
“Nah, she’s wearing the pink lace collar, so she needs the pink lace leash to match. Everyone knows that.”
I laugh as my dog trots off with Junie, all loyalties forgotten as she fixes her eyes on the s’more.
I turn my attention to a pair of guests who step up to ask me about my inspiration for one of the pieces. After that, the editor from some art magazine—the same guy we met at the show with the wolf photos—stops by to talk about connection between CoolTanks manufacturing and my artwork. I’m so focused on doing the artist thing that I lose track of Lisa for a moment.
The second she steps up behind me, I know she’s close. I sense her somehow, and I turn to see her beaming up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, sexy. Got a sec?”
“I’ve got all the sex you want.”
Rolling her eyes, she snatches my hand. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”
She tows me toward my private office, weaving through scattered pockets of people staring at the sculptures. When we get to the room, she shuts the door behind us and leans against the edge of my desk with a grin.
“You know how I said I had a spa appointment this morning?”
I nod and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, mostly an excuse to touch her. “Right, at that place downtown?”
“Yes, but I might have fibbed a little.” She smiles. “Not about the appointment, but what it was for.”
“What do you mean?”
She grins and slides her apron off over her head, then sets it aside on the desk. “Well, I went to get this.”
Before I can say anything, she turns around with her hands braced on the desk. My dick surges as she hikes up her skirt, and it takes me a second to realize it’s not an invitation.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, mesmerized by her left butt cheek. More mesmerized than normal, that is. “You got a tattoo?”
“Uh-huh.” She looks over her shoulder and gives me a smile that’s almost shy. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” I reach out to touch it, but remember at the last second to keep my hands off fresh ink that’s still healing. “It’s a wolf,” I say rather unnecessarily.
“It is,” she says. “I took the artist a picture of your sculpture and asked him to draw something inspired by that.” She slides her skirt back down and turns to face me. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I breathe. “It’s amazing.”
