Page 57 of Midsummer Phoenixes
So he did, but in the process, he got close enough for me to run a hand down his back, all the way to his butt. His reaction, and tiny squeak, was the most satisfying thing.
“You’re terrible,” he told me, his voice bubbling with laughter.
“You tempt me. I’m tempted. That’s different.”
“Oh, please.”
He switched off the kitchen light, checked the lights in Dwayne’s office were off, then killed those in the hallway so only the storage room remained illuminated.
I busied myself with checking some of the stock but cast sideways glances at Amory as he opened his locker and got out his jacket, also a backpack. That caught my attention.
“What’s that?” I asked, coming over to get a closer look.
He shrugged. “Just a few things. A few things I thought I could leave at your place?”
My mind spun off into confusion. He had a few things at my place. He had his fluffy bathrobe. He had underwear there. I knew because I did the laundry and had ordered extras for him after the first time he’d brought an overnight bag. He had very comfy sweats and socks, and there were toiletries—
Amory giggled. “Do you know how shocked you’re looking right now?”
“I’m shocked there was something you needed, and I didn’t notice.”
Amory looked at the bag, handed it to me. “Here. Check it out.”
I took it, but didn’t immediately open it. Instead, I read the expression on his face to see if he was thinking I was being an intrusive asshole.
He didn’t. He was expectant.
I pulled the zipper open. Inside the backpack, there was a bundle, something wrapped in kitchen towels unless I was mistaken.
“What is that?” I asked, pulling the thing out.
Amory grinned. “I got you!”
“Huh?”
“Open it.”
I pulled the bundle out. Whatever it was, it was solid. The towels were tied with a bow. They were white, cotton unless I was mistaken, but had a light blue line running along the edges. I looked at Amory as I pulled on one end of the bow and felt it loosen.
Wrapped inside the towels, there was a bound volume, a pretty-looking book with gold embossing. It was colorful, abstract shapes that reminded me of flames in rainbow colors. I opened it. The volume was empty, waiting to be filled. Soft, high-quality paper ran like silk under my fingertips.
“That’s for our anniversary. Belated, you know? But I thought, since you did all that on the rooftop… I was thinking maybe you want to put your recipes in there? Those eggplant dishes you’ve been experimenting with, or maybe even that bread, what did you say it was called again?”
“Osterbrot.” My eyes were focused on the book.
“Yeah, that. So I thought, you know. I thought maybe you would like writing that stuff down. I don’t know. If it’s silly—”
“It’s not silly. This is wonderful. This is perfect.” I looked up at him. “Thank you, my heart.”
He beamed. “Did you really not notice me ordering it? Didn’t you read that in my mind?”
“I’m not a mind reader, and no.” I ran my thumbs over the book’s edges. “You hid this from me. I’ve been too distracted. I need to pay more attention to you.”
Amory huffed. “You’re so silly, seriously.”
“You had this sent to your place, and you were excited to pick it up. You were excited to give it to me.”
“Yup. And I ordered those kitchen towels too, by the way. I thought that was going to be cute. But wrapping things in towels sucks.”
