Page 37
Story: Code Name: Michelangelo
“You’re uncomfortable.”
“That isn’t it?—”
She giggled. “Liar. Just so you know, it’s about to get worse.”
My eyes opened wide. Who else had she invited? My prior cellmate?
“Everyone, since I know you’re flying back to California later tonight, I think we should have Brand open his gifts now rather than wait.”
“Gifts?” I muttered.
“Yes, Brand. It’s your birthday.”
One by one, the guests set them on the counter near me, and I opened them. Most were of the gag variety. Tara and Knox gave me a pint glass that read, “I’m twenty-nine.” Underneath it was a plus sign and a drawing of a raised middle finger. In it was a gift certificate for a beer-of-the-month club. I also received a T-shirt that read, “It took me thirty years to look this good.”
Kade and Merrigan gave me a lovely book on Italian modern art that, I suppose, had a bit of tongue-in-cheek behind it. However, skimming the pages, I realized it was something I might’ve purchased for myself.
My mum gave me a pair of cuff links she said had once belonged to her father.
When Richard approached holding an envelope he suggested I open in private, I was happy to set it aside. I had an idea of what was in it, and the last thing I wanted was to share its contents with a room full of people.
Penelope walked over and opened the door leading to the garden and motioned for me to join her. “You’ll have to follow me to see my gift to you.”
“The party alone was more than enough, Butterfly.”
She smiled. “You’ll like this better. Close your eyes.”
When she put her hand in mine, I wanted to tell her that her touch was all I needed or wanted for my birthday. In fact, it was all I needed for the rest of my life.
We took a couple of steps. “Okay, open.”
In front of me, under an overhang, sat an easel, a folding seat, and an open box with a collection of some of the nicest brushes I’d ever seen. Beside it sat another open box full of paints, and behind them were stacks of canvases of different sizes and sheets of watercolor paper.
“I didn’t know which you preferred, so I asked Tara to pick out an assortment for a variety of mediums.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I put my arm around her waist. “This is the nicest, most thoughtful, and most extravagant gift I’ve ever received, and if you think for one minute that I can force myself to resist kissing you, you don’t know me at all. If you don’t want me to, you must tell me right now.”
When she wound her arms around my neck and looked at me with wide eyes, I crashed my mouth into hers. Was it an appropriate “thanks so much for the gift” kiss? Of course it wasn’t. When she mewled in pleasure, I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her so her body rested against mine. My desire flamed when I felt her hardened nipples poking into my flesh.
Whether anyone had followed us into the garden, it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care who saw or what they thought of my impassioned gratitude to the woman I held in my arms. She literally made my life worth living, worth turning around and vowing to be a better man.
I broke the kiss and slid her down my front. “Two things,” I whispered. “One, I’ll not apologize for this. Two, there aren’t words to tell you how much you, this night, and your many gifts mean to me.”
She brought her fingertips to her lips. “I think the kiss said all that and more. And if you apologized, I’d smack you.”
“Smack me?” I said, laughing when she did. “Well now, that’s an entirely different kind of gift.”
Her cheeks flushed. “We should probably return inside before dinner is no longer edible.”
“It is quite a conundrum. Should I remain out here with you in my arms or return inside and partake in my very favorite meal?” I closed my eyes and raised my face to the night sky. “I suppose I’ve broken the friendship pact.”
I looked down when Penelope twisted from my arms. Just as she reached the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. “It lasted longer than I thought it might.”
Before I could respond, she was out of reach and too far away for me to ask if her words meant what I hoped they did without everyone else hearing.
The dinner and dessert ahead, while I’m sure delectable, would be the longest of my life.
13
“That isn’t it?—”
She giggled. “Liar. Just so you know, it’s about to get worse.”
My eyes opened wide. Who else had she invited? My prior cellmate?
“Everyone, since I know you’re flying back to California later tonight, I think we should have Brand open his gifts now rather than wait.”
“Gifts?” I muttered.
“Yes, Brand. It’s your birthday.”
One by one, the guests set them on the counter near me, and I opened them. Most were of the gag variety. Tara and Knox gave me a pint glass that read, “I’m twenty-nine.” Underneath it was a plus sign and a drawing of a raised middle finger. In it was a gift certificate for a beer-of-the-month club. I also received a T-shirt that read, “It took me thirty years to look this good.”
Kade and Merrigan gave me a lovely book on Italian modern art that, I suppose, had a bit of tongue-in-cheek behind it. However, skimming the pages, I realized it was something I might’ve purchased for myself.
My mum gave me a pair of cuff links she said had once belonged to her father.
When Richard approached holding an envelope he suggested I open in private, I was happy to set it aside. I had an idea of what was in it, and the last thing I wanted was to share its contents with a room full of people.
Penelope walked over and opened the door leading to the garden and motioned for me to join her. “You’ll have to follow me to see my gift to you.”
“The party alone was more than enough, Butterfly.”
She smiled. “You’ll like this better. Close your eyes.”
When she put her hand in mine, I wanted to tell her that her touch was all I needed or wanted for my birthday. In fact, it was all I needed for the rest of my life.
We took a couple of steps. “Okay, open.”
In front of me, under an overhang, sat an easel, a folding seat, and an open box with a collection of some of the nicest brushes I’d ever seen. Beside it sat another open box full of paints, and behind them were stacks of canvases of different sizes and sheets of watercolor paper.
“I didn’t know which you preferred, so I asked Tara to pick out an assortment for a variety of mediums.”
Before I could talk myself out of it, I put my arm around her waist. “This is the nicest, most thoughtful, and most extravagant gift I’ve ever received, and if you think for one minute that I can force myself to resist kissing you, you don’t know me at all. If you don’t want me to, you must tell me right now.”
When she wound her arms around my neck and looked at me with wide eyes, I crashed my mouth into hers. Was it an appropriate “thanks so much for the gift” kiss? Of course it wasn’t. When she mewled in pleasure, I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her so her body rested against mine. My desire flamed when I felt her hardened nipples poking into my flesh.
Whether anyone had followed us into the garden, it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care who saw or what they thought of my impassioned gratitude to the woman I held in my arms. She literally made my life worth living, worth turning around and vowing to be a better man.
I broke the kiss and slid her down my front. “Two things,” I whispered. “One, I’ll not apologize for this. Two, there aren’t words to tell you how much you, this night, and your many gifts mean to me.”
She brought her fingertips to her lips. “I think the kiss said all that and more. And if you apologized, I’d smack you.”
“Smack me?” I said, laughing when she did. “Well now, that’s an entirely different kind of gift.”
Her cheeks flushed. “We should probably return inside before dinner is no longer edible.”
“It is quite a conundrum. Should I remain out here with you in my arms or return inside and partake in my very favorite meal?” I closed my eyes and raised my face to the night sky. “I suppose I’ve broken the friendship pact.”
I looked down when Penelope twisted from my arms. Just as she reached the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. “It lasted longer than I thought it might.”
Before I could respond, she was out of reach and too far away for me to ask if her words meant what I hoped they did without everyone else hearing.
The dinner and dessert ahead, while I’m sure delectable, would be the longest of my life.
13
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