I was shocked by how badly I wanted to strip and slip right into it.
But I carefully folded them and set them on the bed and went back to the box.
There was another set of fuzzy socks.
An adultcoloring bookand fancy markers.
Some kind of cube decor thing I set aside to figure out later.
And, finally, all the way at the bottom, one of those big squishy stuffed animals I saw in the stores and secretly loved but refused to ever buy.
This one was a freakinglobster roll. Complete with little claws and legs.
“No, this one is for me,” I told Sugar as I pulled it out and held it against me.
But this was Colter we were talking about.
He thought of everything.
The final thing in the box?
A small lobster-shaped toy for her.
“Fetch,” I said, tossing it through to Colter’s suite before carefully placing mine on the desk out of reach while I gathered up my new pajamas and went to take a shower.
The neckline of the nightgown exposed the hickey Colter gave me completely. My belly flipped at that as I moved back into the bedroom and opened the cube thing and plugged it in to find it was some kind of projector that made the room look like it was covered in the Northern Lights.
It wasn’t something I would have ever thought to buy myself, but I loved it.
I brought my stuffed animal back to the bed with me, where I sat cross-legged and did something I hadn’t done since I was in elementary school: I colored.
It wasn’t until a long time later that I looked up to find I wasn’t alone, that I was being watched.
Colter leaned in the doorway.
There was such a soft look on his face that my heart stuttered.
“I had a feeling that would be a hit,” he said, nodding to the coloring book.
“My mind hasn’t been that quiet in years,” I admitted.
“I get that way with solitaire.”
“Solitaire, really?”
“Didn’t always have a lot of forms of entertainment when I was deployed. But I could almost always find a deck of cards. Still have to do it manually; the apps don’t hit the same. Figure the coloring apps are the same.”
“Probably. But they do have one advantage.”
“What’s that?”
“You can probably undo these kinds of mistakes,” I said, pointing to the picture where I’d messed up my little color scheme in one spot.
Colter pushed off the doorway and came to sit off the side of the bed, taking the coloring book from me.
“Dunno. Think coloring can be a lot like life. Imperfect. Doesn’t make it ugly. Just unique.” He paused, then glanced over at me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Okay,” I agreed, inwardly tensing.
