She brought the shopping bag with her, and he wondered idly what was in it. Was there an artist that had spoken to her the way Mariah Davis had to him?
She drove ahead of him, and they met in the elevator. Tai punched in the code for his floor, and Claire let the shopping bag fall softly at her feet as she took hold of his jacket lapel in one hand and drew his head down with the other for another electric kiss. She ran her palm down his aquamarine silk tie while the elevator carried them up too slowly.
“Do you know how much I enjoy the way you embrace color?”
“Um, no?” he said.
“Your ties are hot.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” he said around a laugh, then planted his palms against the wall of the elevator on either side of her head and seized her mouth with his.
“It does make sense,” she said as the elevator door slid open. “Because we make sense.”
He lifted her into the cradle of his arms, and she gave a little squeak.
“Don’t forget your apology present!”
Without missing a stride, he swept up the bag in one hand, and Claire wrapped her legs around him rather than land on her feet. They exited into his foyer, and as the elevator chimed and its door slid closed, the bag dropped to the stone floor between them and they were kissing again.
“What”—he asked between pressing her mouth with his—“is my—apology—present?”
“Stop—kissing me—long enough—to open it.” But she didn’t stop kissing him. Now she was pulling at the knot of his tie. “Tai’s ties. Are so hot.”
By the time they made it to his couch, he’d lost his tie and his jacket, and Claire had kicked off her heels. But they stopped here, though he wasn’t sure why. He could have offered all ofhimself to her in this moment, would have treasured what she offered in return, the beauty of the curves beneath her blouse, the curves hugged perfectly by her boot-cut pants. Something drew a line, though, for both of them at the same time. They sat back slowly, and Tai kissed the tip of her nose.
Claire sprang up from the couch and darted at full-speed to the foyer and back again. She held out the shopping bag. “Present. Now.”
She was the only present he cared about. Her mind and her heart, her mouth on his, her hands splayed on his chest, her fingers digging into his back when their kisses drove her further. Tai could never need any gift but the woman who stood in front of him, waiting for him to accept the shopping bag from her hands, eyes sparkling purple with anticipation.
He took it and sank onto the couch, and Claire plopped beside him and watched as he lifted a tissue-wrapped box.
“It was a hard shape to package, but she did a great job,” Claire said.
The cardboard box held no identifying labels. He popped one end open, easily breaking the packing tape with the strength of his fingers. He slid out a cocoon of bubble wrap and more tissue paper. More snapping of tape, slow unwrapping, and then, resting in his palms…
“Melody from an Open Hand,” he said.
“So you did notice this one! Oh, I’m glad. It totally reached out to me and said, ‘this is Tai.’ But if you’d prefer a different—”
“Claire, I went into the gallery tonight to buy this.”
“Oh…” She nestled into his arm and skimmed her fingers over the butterflies. “Well, what did I tell you? We just make sense.”
Twenty-Nine
Every passing week, Claire felt closer to him. They met for countless dinners out after work, made a day trip of visiting the largest art museum in Virginia, rode horses at Warbler Ranch, returned to the waterfall for a swim.
They hung out often with the friend group, usually at Ryker and Leslie’s house, and Tai flourished among friends he didn’t have to hide his condition from. For Claire, the sweetest moment so far had come when he gave a hard shiver sitting beside her, and Nova grabbed a blanket from the back of her own chair and tossed it to him. Tai bundled up with a smile of thanks, never tried to shrink anymore. When he was with them, he was his full self—deep opinions, deep emotions, clear thoughts and clear words.
Claire was so proud of him and so proud to be with him. And tonight they’d attend the biggest event of Josie Strong’s fiscal year together, impeccably planned and executed by this man she loved so much.
Tai had told her to arrive early and glam up at his place, so something was up. The Christmas in July donor appreciationevent, which had taken a lot of both delegation and direct contact on his part, didn’t start until six thirty. Claire did some delegating of her own, left Slake It Off at four, and twenty minutes later stepped into her boyfriend’s elevator and rode to the penthouse floor.
Her arms were full with her garment bag, makeup kit, and shoes as she stepped into the foyer. Tai met her wearing slim-fit black jeans…and nothing else.
“Um, hello.” She gave his torso an exaggerated ogle, but she hardly had to exaggerate. Dang, this man was hot.
Tai laughed, came to her, and kissed her over her armful of dress and accessories. He nodded at the dress. “You won’t need that.”
