Page 85 of Lucky Star

“Maybe later, mister. Right now, I have an early Christmas present to unwrap.”

He tugged me close and murmured into my neck, “What if I want to unwrap you instead?”

I sighed, nearly ready to give in, but damn it, now I wanted my surprise. I laid my hand on his chest and shoved him back. “Nope.”

Taking my hand, he led me down the stairs and to his car. He leaned down and kissed me deeply, and for a handful of seconds I forgot everything but the feel of his body pressed against mine, our lips melding together in perfect harmony. Sighing, he pulled away and placed the black silk against my eyes as he wound the fabric around my head and tied it gently in back. Carefully, he moved me aside, opened the door, and helped me into my seat.

“Can you give me any clues?” I asked as the car started and we began moving down the bumpy drive.

“Nope.”

I shifted in my seat, my knee bouncing as all sorts of thoughts raced through my head. We drove for a few more minutes, and as I heard the sound of tires on wet asphalt, I knew it must have started raining since it’d been dry when he’d led me out of the house. Without my sight, my other senses were amplified. I took a deep breath and held the scent of water on wood deep in my heart.

“I love it here,” I whispered into the silence. “The smell of the rain on the cedars mixing with the brine of the ocean.” I pulled in another deep breath and exhaled. “I missed this.”

Cameron put his hand on my knee and squeezed lightly. “I missed you.”

It was a simple enough statement, but with my sight blocked by the silk, I heard more than I might have otherwise. There was love there, yes. But something else, too. Something wistful and pensive.

A few minutes later he pulled to a stop and killed the engine. Before exiting, he squeezed my thigh and then ran around to my side to help me out. Immediately, rain splattered against my hair and trailed down my face.

“Shit, I should have brought an umbrella.”

“It’s just water.” I leaned my head back to let the rain land on my face, loving the feel of the moisture on my skin. “I love it.”

“I sure hope so,” Cameron muttered under his breath as he pulled me along beside him.

Keys jangled against a lock and then I heard a door opening as we stepped over the threshold into a warm, dry room. Behind me, a door snicked closed, blocking out the sounds beyond. I felt him move behind me before he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him, my back to his front. He held me like that for a few seconds without speaking.

“Cameron?”

“Sorry,” he said, loosening his hold. “I’m just really nervous,” he admitted. “If you don’t like it, you can tell me.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it. Whatever it is. Now give me my damn surprise,” I said, pulling a laugh from him.

But then he turned serious again. “But if you don’t love it, you’ll tell me? Right?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you,” I assured him.

“It’s just that I got this idea in my head, again, and ran with it.” He chuckled wryly.

“I’m beginning to love it when you run with an idea,” I answered honestly.

“I’m going to hold you to that statement,” he said, untying the black silk and pulling it away from my eyes.

I had to blink a couple of times, the light blinding me. When everything finally came into focus, I blinked a couple more times because I wasn’t entirely sure what I was supposed to be seeing. We stood in a brightly lit loft overlooking the harbor for which the town was named. Off in the distance there was an island where I knew a pair of bald eagles had made their nest for the season. Serendipitously, as I stared out the window, one of them flew away, wide, graceful wings flapping in the misty fog. To our right was a cedar-planked wall rising all the way up to the ceiling, partially obscuring stairs that led upstairs. And directly to my left was a modern kitchen outfitted with Viking appliances and an island topped with white and grey-veined marble.

I looked to Cameron, confused. “I don’t get it.”

He worried his lip between his teeth. “It’s ours.”

“Ours?” I asked, a tremor in my voice, as he led me over to a mossy green velvet sectional that took up the left corner of the living room. Sitting down, he pulled me onto his lap where I nestled into him.

“I bought it. Or rather, I’m buying it. Nothing’s final yet. If you don’t like it, I can stop escrow.”

“Hold on a second. You bought us a vacation home?”

“It could be,” he answered cautiously. “We love it here. You said as much. This place is special.”

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