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“What are these?” I shook them, as I always did with gifts. The rustle of tissue paper was the only sound. “It’s not my birthday for another four months.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking more exhausted than I’d ever seen him. The smile he gave me was nothing like the one from earlier. There wasn’t an ounce of genuine feeling in it. “Open them, and you’ll see.”

Wanting—needing—him to smile again for real, I sat beside him and went through an elaborate routine with the first present. I shook it again, then pretended to sniff it, and took forever pulling on the bow and paper. When I finally opened the lid and pulled out a white cotton dress with plump strawberries all over it and yellow ribbons laced around the collar, I started to laugh. Belly laugh like I hadn’t in too many months to count.

“You didn’t,” I managed.

A glimmer of amusement lightened his eyes. “Open the rest.”

The next box held a multi-pack of huge plaid underwear. Not sexy plaid, old-fashioned plaid. I didn’t know where he could have found something so ugly.

My belly laughs started again. “Let me guess. These panties are to go with that awesome dress?”

He nodded solemnly. “I owed you new ones of both.”

I’d actually forgotten the whole outfit deal, because it had been a couple weeks since the doorway clothes-ripping night. He’d gone to war on two more pairs of my panties since then, so he would’ve owed me three pairs, anyway.

And look at that, the plaid came in a three-pack. The guy never missed a trick.

“I’m so thrilled. They’re just what I always wanted.” I launched myself at him, absorbing the sound of his surprised laughter like a kid sucked down a milkshake. I’d memorize that sound too and hold it close whenever he felt too far away.

Like all the moments he wasn’t inside me. That was the only time I felt like I had a real, solid connection with him. Every other moment between us might as well have been quicksand, always shifting.

“I figured.” He gave me a quick, hard kiss before pulling out two more boxes from under the bed. “But just in case, I got you these too.”

I eyed them speculatively, noticing the distinct difference in wrapping paper. The other two boxes had been wrapped in garish neon paper. These two were wrapped in sophisticated gilt-edged paper.

My heart started to beat faster as I pulled open the first box. I lifted the seductive black and red lace bra-and-panty set out of the tissue paper and tried not to gasp. I gasped over too many things, but this really deserved one.

“La Perla?” I turned over the tag. “Holy shit. I’ve never…this is so far beyond…”

I glanced at him, biting my lip. I didn’t want to ask where he got so much money, enough that he’d offered to pay off my tuition with one check, for pity’s sake. Enough that he took me out to eat at fancy restaurants sometimes before we came back to his place, and he never blinked at the total, no matter the cost.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the absolutely insane tabs he ran at the club. He was always ordering Dom Perignon for the table as if it was water. His closet was full of expensive Italian suits he rarely wore, and he had enough pairs of high-end sneakers to outfit a basketball team.

“You’re going to ask me how I make my money.”

“I wasn’t.” Then I sighed, fingering my gorgeous lingerie. It mattered how he made his money. I couldn’t accept this if it was from dirty sources.

Could I?

“You make a lot fighting,” I said softly, knowing I was trying to reassure myself. Not just because of the panties and bra, but because I didn’t want him to be in so deep that he’d never find his way out.

Even if he wasn’t able to until we were over, I didn’t want that life for him.

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I also make a little at the Boys and Girls club, teaching judo to kids.” I blinked and his smile came and went. “I started taking lessons at six, so I figured I might as well put them to good use and teach others. And the kids, they love it. They think I’m a hero.”

I smiled and touched his arm with my free hand. The other still clung to the La Perla. I wasn’t giving it up unless I had to. “That’s really sweet.”

“No, that doesn’t account for most of where my money comes from.” His shrewd blue-black eyes narrowed on mine. “My mother left me a sizable inheritance. I’ve invested well.”

I couldn’t restrain the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you for telling me.”

He nodded. “I promise I wouldn’t buy anything that would touch your body with money that wasn’t mine to spend.”

Before I could digest the reverence in his voice, he gestured to the second package. “Open it. Please.” He chuckled at my reluctance to let go of my new lingerie. “Give it here. I’ll hold it. It’s not my color, so you’ll definitely get it back.”

“Not your size either.” My eyebrows waggled at the bulge in his pants. He didn’t have to be hard to be an eyeful.

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