“Or I can just hear your voice to end the nightmare.” He seems almost fervent. Another effect of just waking up.
I laugh softly. “That, too.” I stroke the back of his neck, which is very tight. “Happy birthday.”
He pulls back. “Huh?”
“Happy birthday, Noah.” I smile, then kiss his cheek.
“You remembered…”
He sounds really surprised, which is odd. He’s wealthy and extroverted. Doesn’t he have a lot of people to celebrate his birthday? Make a big deal about it, even if he doesn’t want to?
Or maybe he just has shitty friends and family. You never know the pain people carry inside. “Of course. It’s an important date. And I got something for you. Come see!”
I tug at his hand, taking him inside where I pull the cover off the box. He looks down at my cute, delicious creation while I hover, waiting for his reaction.
Something jagged and complicated fleets through his eyes. Small goosebumps cover my arms...probably his mood after the nightmare is affecting me. Although we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, our moods are unbelievably in synch. It’d be scary if it weren’t so exhilarating. I’ve never experienced anything like it—as though our hearts are tied to each other with a string that vibrates and communicates how we’re feeling.
“This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
My belly flutters. “Seriously?”
He gazes at me. “Very seriously. Nobody has ever made me feel glad I was born.”
The air in my lungs seems to vanish. I never thought I could mean this much to someone. But when Noah’s looking at me like this, it’s like I was born to be the center of his universe.
“I know our time is limited, and…we initially agreed to a vacation fling,” Noah says. “But we don’t have to limit ourselves, do we?” His earnest eyes peer into mine. “I want more time with you, Bobbi.”
“Me too…but I don’t know about a long-distance relationship.” I want somebody local, somebody I can see regularly and potentially build a life with. I can’t just move from SoCal—I have friends and family there. And I don’t feel right asking Noah to make the sacrifice, especially when our relationship’s so new that he might be too wrapped up in emotion to think straight. When he’s back into real life and going through the everyday grind, things might change.
“Not an issue. I’ll move to wherever you are.” His hand wraps around mine, squeezes with determination and need—and maybe even a bit of desperation and longing.
It was the last two things and the fact that I was falling for him that had me nodding before I realized what I was doing. If I’d known our problem wouldn’t be physical distance but him not giving a damn, I would’ve never agreed to see him after our time in Mexico ended. Nor would I have been so happy that he turned out to live here in L.A.
I shake off the bittersweet memories as I place white and dark chocolate shavings on top of the white frosting the way Josie likes. I’m done being nice to people who don’t appreciate me.
Okay, no more thinking about Noah.I need to start picturing the perfect man, the one I want by my side. I pull the ring from around my neck and look at the sparkling blue stone as I conjure up the kind of man I’d love to have. Somebody reliable. Kind. Honorable.
Someone I can invite to hang out with my cousins. Hell, someone I can show to all my friends and know he can be part of my life for good.
Señor Mittens sniffs past the food I laid out for him. I study his fur, which is even glossier than before. He’s definitely gained a bit of weight, too. Maybe he’s just gotten bored with the food I bought because it’s the same thing I’ve been feeding him forever. Is he hunting for little critters like he used to when he was a stray? He hasn’t done that since I took him in, but maybe that’s his way of varying his food options. I make a mental note to try a different brand of cat food on my way back from TJ’s.
“Be good.” I shake a finger at Señor Mittens, who spreads out like a fat, cat-shaped rug on the floor. “No more hunting for food. You aren’t a stray anymore.”
A huge feline yawn.
“I’m responsible for you,” I remind him.
His tail twitches.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble and lose another toe.”
He gives me a reproachful look.You think I’m still the same silly cat who lost his toe?
“Yes.”
He stretches and closes his eyes for a nap. Or maybe he’s just decided to ignore me. I carry the boxes of baked goods out to my truck.
“Hey there,” comes a friendly voice as I shut the truck door.
