Page 91 of Indescribable
He smirks. “I have so many things I want to say right now.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Around you? Never. First is a jump rope because when we were kids, you’d skip rope all the way to my house. And second is an adult coloring book and markers because I also remember you saying that sometimes you wish you could go back to when you could sit at the table and color for hours with no responsibilities.”
“You remember that?”
“It was my favorite part of the day. Watching you jump your way to our house.”
“Brock,” I whisper, telling myself not to cry.
“Hey.” He reaches over and cradles my cheek. “No crying.”
“It’s just… the whole night has been…”
“Has been what?” he asks when I trail off.
“Amazing. Perfect. Everything I would want in a first date.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “That’s a good thing, right?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed. Don’t mind me.”
“Overwhelmed by my amazing date skills? I’ll take it.”
I snort. “So humble.”
“It’s a Lake thing.”
“No wonder Cody is so sure of himself. Next up: something to wear, right?”
“Yup.” He grins mischievously.
“Oh, boy. My guess is the stuff I’m giving you is going to be pretty tame compared to what you’re about to give me. First, this.” I hand him the t-shirt. It’s soft and looks well-worn already but that’s just the way it was made. I also plan to steal it from him. “And these. For our nights we’re chilling and watchingOzarkor whatever show we start to binge-watch next.”
“They’re perfect. Mom gives me a pair of these every year for Christmas but didn’t this year. I love them.”
“Glad you like them. Now me.” I feel like a kid at Christmas, waiting for the sun to come up so I can open my presents. I can’t help it, though. This is fun.
“Your first item is…” He drums his hands on the steering wheel for effect. “Ta da!” He hands me an oversized flannel. “You used to always take mine, remember?”
I nestle it against my cheek, memories of all those nights when we’d be sitting around a bonfire with our friends flooding me. Even if I wasn’t all that cold, he’d always take off his flannel at the first sign of me shivering and hand it to me. “It’s so soft. I love it!”
“And…” He hands me the next item. This one silkier, tinier, lacier, and far sexier. “Maybe I’m reaching here, but I saw this and imagined all sorts of things.”
It’s a light blue nighty, with lace bra cups and a satiny bodice.
I hold it in my hands and he shifts nervously next to me. Whatever he was imagining, I’m on board. I picture him coming over with me wearing this to greet him, the thin material dropping to the floor in the kitchen as he takes me right there on the counter.
“It’s beautiful.”
He blows out a breath, visibly relieved that I didn’t chuck it at him for assuming anything would happen between us while I was wearing this.
“I’m curious where your imagination went when you picked this out,” I tell him with a wink.
He leans over and gives me a kiss. “Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’re ready to hear all the places my mind goes when I think of you.”
“You know I’m a writer, right? My imagination has a pretty far stretch, too. And not just for the characters I write.”