Twining our fingers, he brought our joined hands to his heart. “And you know what scares me? That I’m never going to meet someone like you again and I’m never going to feel what I’ve felt in the past few days. I’ve got a dozen more concerts to go and then I want to lay low for a while. Maybe go on vacation with my woman.”
Dipping his head, he slid his tongue along my collar bone.
“Uh-huh. I’m liking where this is going. Continue.”
“Okay, so I was thinking after I buy the Range Rover and have it repainted…”
“You’re buying our Range Rover?” I cooed, clapping my approval.
“Of course. Anyway, after that maybe we’ll rent a small trailer and start knocking things off your bucket list – like the world’s largest tater tot.”
“Corndog,” I corrected.
“Same thing. Anyway, shush. I’m making my pitch. We could then find a farm somewhere, away from the crowds, where I can work on my music, even become a solo artist. And you can give horses hip new hairstyles.”
My lips curved into a smile. This was a life I could get behind. “Ooh yeah, talk dirty to me.”
“You like that?” Hope gathered in his handsome face. “For you, I’d even be willing to get one of those disaster dogs you’re always going on and on about.”
“They’re not disasters,” I said. “They have conditions that make them less likely to get adopted.”
“Whatever. Bring it on. I’m not scared of missing limbs.”
“My hero.”
Bodhi tipped my chin with his thumb and leaned so close his breath became my air. “I could be.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips. “You already are.”
“What do you say, Dime? You wanna make a beautiful life with me?”
I kissed him again, tasting only the promise of love.
“Where do I sign?”
Bodhi lifted his shirt revealing a patchwork of lyrics and there, etched into the flesh over his heart was my name.
Breeze
“On the dotted line, baby.”
27
Epilogue: Bodhi
The best part of living with a female was free food all day, every day. Sometimes, when I got really lucky, like today, I’d have my pick of an elaborate culinary spread. Going from tray to tray, Terrance and I popped appetizers into our mouths like dogs swiping food off the counter before our owners had a chance to swat us away.
“Maybe you two could leave something for the guests,” Betsy suggested.
Showing no mercy for the soon-to-be-arriving visitors, Terrance shoved a stuffed olive into his mouth. “I suppose we could.”
I grinned, high-fiving my mealtime buddy. It was always smart to surround yourself with like-minded people, and Terrance and I… we were beginning to morph into one.
“Besides, Betsy,” I said, “you need us.”
“Yeah? How do you figure?”
“No leftovers.”
