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Inside is a small teddy bear with a pink ribbon around its neck, a candle that says Light for Emergencies, Infused with Relaxing, Positive Vibe, two self-packaged chocolate chip cookies, two oatmeal raisin cookies—my favorite—two brownies, two blueberry muffins—also my favorite—and a bottle of Advil that makes me laugh out loud.
He’s worried I’ll have cramps, which is so damn cute I could die.
I open the lid on the candle and inhale. Lavender and vanilla—my two favorite scents.
Bennett sure pays attention. I’ll give him that. It makes me think about how he replaced my bodywash with his. I haven’t said anything about it, but I use it and I’m positive he knows that since every time he smells my skin, he groans and growls. I like smelling like him. I like that he wants me to. And no, I don’t think too closely about either of those. I also snuck a bottle of my shampoo into his shower, and though he doesn’t use it, I did notice that the cap was open on it the other day so he must smell it.
“Wow!” Michelle exclaims, snapping me back. “That’s some sweet gift. Whoever this friend is, must really care for you.”
I don’t take the bait, even if that makes my heart go pitter-patter faster than it already was. I know that’s not how things are between us. I know he’s just a good man who cares and doesn’t want our first failed attempt to get me down. If nothing else, it makes me smile, thinking of what a good dad he’ll be one day.
“I’m assuming it’s not Zane.”
I shake my head. “Not Zane.” Zane would never have thought something like this up or been as conscientious about it. Even when he planned my birthday weekend away that never happened, he was taking us to Vermont so we could ski—I suck at skiing and don’t love it, and he knew that.
“Katy?! Did you hear me? You can’t have that out?—”
“Cricket, go annoy someone else with your incessant noise. I’m moving it out of here. And because you’re such a miserable, joy-sucking human, I’m not going to share my care package with you.”
I give her a smug look and then take my basket toward the locker room.
When I get there, I shove it in my locker—thankfully it just fits—and then go to text Bennett.
Me: Thank you so much for the basket. You didn’t have to do that.
Bennett: What basket?
I hesitate, squinting at the screen. Huh? If he didn’t send it, then who the hell did? No one else knows?—
Bennett: Ha, gotcha, didn’t I?
A laugh flees my lungs, and I find myself shaking my head. For a man who is so serious, he’s becoming more and more playful.
Me: *eye roll emoji* Ha. Very funny. Yes, you got me. Now I’m not thanking you anymore.
Bennett: No sense of humor.
Me: Only when things are funny.
Bennett: If it wasn’t funny, why are you smiling?
I search around, but I’m alone. My smile grows.
Me: How do you know I’m smiling?
Bennett: I know you, Katy baby.
The nickname is new. I’ve been baby and sweetheart—sweetheart is during sex, and for some reason, it’s insanely hot to me—but Katy baby is when he’s being fun or sweet Bennett. And I fucking love it.
Bennett: How are you feeling though? I saw your face this morning and I wanted to do something to make you smile and feel better.
Bastard. If he’s not careful, he’ll make me swoon, and he’s firmly in no-swooning territory.
Me: Well, you did. I lost a patient too, so this really helped.
My phone rings in my hand, Bennett’s name lighting it up, and I sigh. Perfect. Why does he have to be so freaking perfect?
I hit the green answer button. “Hey.”
