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“I do.”
We both fall quiet for a moment. We haven’t said we love each other yet. It’s too early for that. But I know he’s wondering whether what we have—whatever it is—is strong enough to last.
“Get some sleep,” I tell him. “And I’ll be seeing you very soon. I have your present all ready and wrapped up!”
“Do I get any hints?” he asks, amused.
“Let’s just say it’ll help you express your natural talents.”
He chuckles. Then he says, “I’m close to finishing my painting of you, by the way. It’ll be ready by the time I see you.”
“Oh…” I’ve never had anyone paint a picture of me before. “That’s exciting. I can’t wait to see it.”
“I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will, Damon. You’re an amazing artist.”
He sighs. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” I smile. “Sleep well, honey.”
“And you, baby girl.”
I shiver, sigh, and end the call.
*
Sure enough, Damon messages me the next day to say that Kip and Saxon have made up, and that Kip’s heading up to Alice’s house in Gisborne to try and patch things up. A few days later, he lets me know that Kip proposed, Alice said yes, and she’s going to move down to Wellington with her mum to live with him.
I’m thrilled, both for them and for Damon, because seeing both his brothers settled and happy can only have a positive impact on him.
The next week is super busy for both of us. He’s back in Auckland, and I start packing up my things ready to go back to Wellington for the start of the next university term. On Saturday, we have a big family dinner, so I get to say goodbye to Dad, Sherry, Gaby, Tyson, and Alex, and then on Sunday I fly back up to Wellington.
The next few months are going to be interesting. I’m heading off to Australia in a fortnight, and that’s going to be a very different eight weeks for me. I’m nervous about it, but determined to enjoy it. First, though, I have two weeks in Wellington, and of course, Damon’s birthday.
He calls me the night before to let me know he’s back from Auckland. “How were your first two days at uni?” he asks.
I’m back in the house I share with Jo and two other girls, currently in my room, sitting on my bed. I glance over at the door, where Damon burst through only five weeks ago to rescue me from my ex’s clutches. My lips curve up.
“Intense and rather dull,” I reply, “but not bad. You still on for tomorrow?”
“Definitely.” I can tell he’s smiling. “You want me to come and pick you up?”
“No, it’s okay, I’ll come over to yours if you like?”
“Sure. I’ll text you the address. Unfortunately, I’ve got an afternoon meeting that I can’t miss, but I’ll be home just after five.”
“No worries, I’ll see you then.”
In the end, the next day my Uber pulls up outside his home at nearly 5:15. The drive is empty, but I assume his F-Type is in the double garage. I thank the driver and get out, and he drives away, leaving me surrounded by trees, the only sound the occasional twitter of birds and the rustling of the leaves.
Jesus, I’d forgotten how rich he is. The house is built high on one of the many hills surrounding Wellington, and in the distance I can see the city, and the glittering water of the harbor beyond it. It’s a magnificent view. The house itself is on several levels, and as I enter the gates I realize it has a pool and a generous deck that runs around the side and front of the house. The walls are mostly glass, and just down the steps must be his studio, because I can see several canvases on easels. It looks huge. Wow.
Shouldering my bag, I walk down to his front door. It opens before I reach it, and there he is, barefoot, wearing black trackpants and a gray tee, looking oh-my-God gorgeous, and smiling.
“Damon!” I drop my bag, run up to him, and throw my arms around his neck. “Oh, happy birthday!”
He laughs and hugs me, his strong arms squeezing and making me gasp. Then he lowers me down, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me. Mmm… this man sure knows how to kiss. His lips move across mine with slow, deliberate kisses, and then he slides his tongue into my mouth, and everything turns sultry and sexy, making my head spin.
