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I surpriseher in the garage, holding my hands over her eyes.
“This is just one of many gifts you’ll get tonight.”
She’s almost bouncing on her toes. So I let go, letting her see her new gift.
Across the garage, a classic vintage car wrapped in a big red bow. The plate is custom with her name. I want her to drive the best, too. I have a fleet of cars that are the epitome of luxury, speed, and status. Ultimate comfort. They decorate a one of a kind garage built specially to house them as if this is more of a museum than a place where you park your daily driver.
This car is the most special in my arsenal. And, I wanted her to have it.
“Happy birthday, my love.”
She stands speechless for a moment. “This can’t be real.”
I take her hand and kiss her palm. “I think that every time I introduce you as my wife. Every time I look over at you in bed as you sleep. I want to get to dinner at some point tonight so I’ll keep quiet on when it most surprises me.”
She laughs. And then wraps her arms around me.
“Thank you. I love you. Still too much though.”
“Not enough,” I counter. “Never enough.”
We speed our way through the city, finally ending up at a posh little place where we get a table in the kitchen—which Clementine is over the fucking moon about—and so am I by default. But honestly, it’s pretty damn loud in the kitchen and not quite the intimate dinner I was hoping to give her. But if it makes her happy, I’ll fucking do it. And right now she’s beaming as she sips slowly at her wine, completely transfixed on all the happenings of the kitchen.
We’re treated to a special menu. The food is superior, but honestly, it’s her reaction to it all that I love the most.
“Oh God that’s good.” she wipes her mouth clean from lobster ravioli.
“That won’t be the last time you’ll say that tonight.” I tease.
Clementine looks over at me. “I sure hope not.”
I lean in and kiss her soundly, not giving a fuck about who is around. She doesn’t seem to care either. That is . . . until the cake is brought out. Because, in her words, chocolate cake is everything.
And I suppose today—on her birthday—that is more than allowable.
“What is that?”I ask, pulling back from the pair of soft lips I’ve got mine pressed against. “Cotton candy?”
We’re jammed in the backseat of her newly acquired ‘68 Mustang and I don’t really give a fuck about the flavor of her lipgloss if I’m being honest, but her mouth is too sweet not to comment. I lick the taste of her from my lips and stare into her eyes as a smile spreads across her face.
“Toasted Marshmallow,” she says. “But close.”
I pull her bra strap down and suck on the skin of her shoulder. “Mm. Of course.”
She giggles under me and pulls my mouth back to hers. “Marshmallow,” she says, kissing my mouth hotly, her teeth nipping my bottom lip tenderly before she pushes my head back to her skin. I taste her neck. “Vanilla Cupcake.”
“Little sweet shop, aren’t you?”
She cups my face and brings me back to her lips but pauses. “You have no idea.”
“Mm.” I lean in and taste her lips again. “I think I do, actually. Always up for a refresher course, though.”
She runs her hands across my shirt, popping the tightness of it as it hugs my chest. “Can’t lie. It’s hard to deny you like this. And also, I don’t know if you know this but it’s kind of my birthday today.”
“What did you wish for?”
“Already have everything I ever wanted, Gabriel. I have you.”
“Baby, let me take off your dress,” I say. “I’ll eat that cupcake so fucking good.”
