Page 36

I closed the door and leaned back against it. She was in my apartment, and it felt right. How could I keep her forever? “It’s okay.”

Her laughter bounced off the walls. “Okay? This should be on a Selling Minneapolis real estate show.” She cleared her throat and spoke in a TV narrator’s voice.

“The wall of windows overlooking the city skyscape is breath taking while the sleek and modern décor screams stately elegance from high above the city.”

She did a model walk toward the kitchen as she held her arms out and did a twirl. “The open concept kitchen provides vast entertaining opportunities from the top of the line appliances to the floor to ceiling sleek stone fireplace to heat up your Minnesota nights.”

I stood in the doorway as she hopped up on the counter. “The smooth granite is the perfect surface for your holiday baking.” She lay on her side and suddenly flicked her feet as both shoes went flying across the room. “Or many other activities.”

I had to stop myself from taking out the wall as I flew into the kitchen. A gasp escaped her as I grabbed her and pulled her to the edge of the counter. I opened her knees with my hands and took my place while she wrapped her arms around my neck. “You have an insatiable appetite, Fern Ethel.”

Her baby blues pierced me. “Only with you.”

An arrow to my heart. I pressed my lips to hers as a small sigh escaped from her mouth to mine, and I suddenly wanted to lock her in my apartment forever.

She would be waiting for me right there on the kitchen counter every day, and I’d bring her flowers and chocolate. We’d live happily ever after. Really?

She wrapped those legs around my waist, and I held her ass while I carried her into my bedroom like a caveman. She was mine. Well, for now. I would relish in the beautiful, tough, beer-drinking gal clinging to my body.

I tossed her on the bed as her television-narrating voice reappeared. “The bedroom looks as if it’s hopped off the pages of Architectural Digest with a rugged yet classic design.”

I pulled my shirt off over my head and tossed it onto the floor as I looked down at her. “And the penthouse apartment boasts so many amazing amenities it would make you blush.”

I jumped next to her and reached out to make sure she wasn’t going to be launched into the air, but instead she rolled over on top of me. “Once you’ve been in this bedroom, all others will fail by comparison.”

Her hair spilled onto my chest as my hands found her waist. She moved like only she could, and that was the second my phone alarm screamed from my pocket. “Shit, it is already eleven?”

She rolled off me, and my whole body cried. “You have to get to practice, Mr. Gabe.”

“Maybe—”

“Nope, you go.” She stood and grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Fine. But you’ll meet me later.”

“We’ll see.” She glanced in the mirror and ran her hands over her hair. “I’m a very busy lady, you know.”

I stood up, reached out, and took her hand. “No, you cancel anything or anyone else for me tonight.”

She pulled her hand from mine and crossed her arms over her chest. “Excuse me?”

I inhaled deeply. “What I meant to ask, dear Fern, was if you’d please meet me at the St. Paul Grill at six o’clock tonight. I will literally fade away if I have to be without your presence this evening.”

She raised a brow. “Well, how could I resist an invitation like that?”

I yanked her in for a hug and rested my chin on the top of her head. “You can’t.”

She pulled back. “Actually, why don’t we meet here at six, and I’ll have dinner prepared for us?”

“I like the way you think, Fern Ethel.”

I took my Gabe Approved Uber home and was happy to my core that my mother was out of the house when I arrived. After a quick shower, I pulled on my favorite jeans, soft gray American Eagle tee, and burgundy zippy cardigan before making myself some lunch.

The thought of the past twenty-four hours put an inerasable smile on my lips.

As if out of a movie, I had a hulky man whisk me off in a private plane for dinner and a Four Seasons hotel stay.

Again, how was this even happening to me?

Until recently, I was fairly certain my fairy godmother had stepped out for a smoke and was murdered in the alley.

But suddenly, I wondered if she’d just gotten a little drunk, wondered off, and had finally found her way back to me.

But, like a movie, this would be over soon, and real life would kick in. I quickly shoved that thought out the window and watched it fall to a bloody death on the sidewalk below.

I was going to do this day-by-day thing and live my life like a wild woman for a little longer. While this wasn’t the typical me, why couldn’t it be? I’ve had friends who had hook ups, and they came out the other side just fine. No scars or anything.

I had the afternoon free and wanted to think of something that I could do for him. Nothing could remotely compare to his gesture, but there had to be something.

Two hours later, Josh the doorman and I lugged my Mexican themed dinner to Gabe’s apartment. I proudly entered the code, and the door opened. Yes, he’d entrusted me with the code into his heart and home. Well, not sure about the heart, but the home for sure.

I’d swung into Party City and filled my cart with anything Mexican Fiesta-themed, and once Josh disappeared, I sprung into action.

I strung up my twinkle lights around the kitchen along with several sombreros and streamers. I threw a brightly colored tablecloth over the table, topped it with rainbow margarita glasses, and twenty balloons in every primary color the store had inflated for me.

I whipped up a batch of Mama’s tacos and gave my bartending skills a whirl with the margaritas.

It was nearly five o’clock so I skipped into the manliest bedroom I’d ever been in and jumped into my favorite red and black bikini.

Nothing screams Mexico more than swimwear.

I topped it with my black sheer cover-up, and pride bubbled up as I stood in the magical Mexican kitchen.

Maybe Pinterest wasn’t the devil after all.

At exactly 5:52, the front door opened, and my chest tightened. I’m not proud of the shit my heart has gone through because it’s been cheated, stabbed, burned, and thrown against a wall multiple times, but it sings “Saltero da un dirupo per te” for Gabe.

“Honey, I’m home.”

The words braided my stomach. Home. He was home. And I was in his home.

I shot over to the center island, jumped up, and crossed my legs as sexily as I could. He entered the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks as he absorbed the room.

“Shut the front door. My heart just skipped a beat, literally.”

“Well, that’s arrhythmia. You could die from that.”

“Smart ass.” He let out a warm chuckle. “Look at the beautiful Fern Novotny on the kitchen counter next to a pitcher of margaritas and my favorite meal of tacos.” He popped his brow. “Which shall I devour first?”

My tummy did a twisty thing as he slowly walked toward me, his eyes gliding down my bikini-clad body.

“Well, the tacos are hot, but they aren’t nearly as spicy as this woman.

” He reached me and took my chin between his fingers as he kissed my lips.

“No fucking comparison.” His breath sent chills to my skin before he kissed his way down my neck and pushed my cover-up off my shoulders.

“Look what you’ve done. Now I’ll never be able to walk into my kitchen and not envision you right here, looking perfect. ”

I pulled him close. “And the tacos, they’re perfect too.”

A little tingle raced up my neck as he untied my bikini top. “Anything you touch is perfect.”

The cool air hit my chest as his hands and lips found their way.

After a moment that quickly wrangled up what felt like a zillion butterflies in my stomach, he picked me up.

“Is the stove off? I need to have your lips on mine for a bit, and I’m sure as hell not going notice a fire with you in front of me. ”

I squirmed out of his grasp. “Nope, we need to eat while everything is fresh and hot.”

He raised his brows as he reached around and tied my bikini. “You know I like it when it’s hot.”

I slapped his arm before I loaded him up with tacos.

Thirty minutes later, we’d stuffed ourselves, and I felt sloshy from the margaritas

“Fern Ethel.” He tossed the last bit of taco into his perfect mouth. “This was amazing.”

“It’s my mom’s recipe so I can’t take full credit.”

“Nope, this was all you.” He pointed to the twinkly lights above our heads. “And these bad boys are staying.”

My heart grew three sizes, along with my stomach, as I finished my second taco and humongo margarita. “I ate too much. I feel disgusting.”

He rose and carried his plate to the sink. “Me too. It’s chilly, but do you want to take a walk to burn off dinner?”

“Yes please.”

I borrowed a ginormous pair of his black sweats and a Minnesota Wild hoodie before we bundled up and strolled hand in hand as snow flurries danced around us on the empty city street.

“This is the perfect snow. There’s no breeze so it looks all magical. It’s like rom-com movie snow.” I took a picture in my mind so I could torture myself in the future whenever there was a perfect snow.

“It’s only perfect because you’re by my side.”

“OMG, that was the perfect rom-com movie line.” I rested my head against his arm.

I think I saw this scene in an old Sex in the City episode which I adore, BTW. Big and Carrie strolling along a city street, all cheery, not knowing the happiness as well as the disasters, that loomed ahead.

But this wasn’t a TV show. This was my life at the moment. The one I had to remind myself was real, and that being in the day-by-day mode was fun. No regrets as we were just living life. Do you honestly believe that pile of steaming horse shit? Shhh.

At the corner, we stopped. He pulled me close and just looked down at me. There were no words, but we were exchanging something that I felt in my soul.