Page 35 of Sugar and Splice


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“Smarty pants.”

“Exactly.”

“No Hawaiian shirts and khakis. It’s my edict.”

“As you wish.”

Noble

There are moments when our easy repartee, our laughter, our camaraderie are so familiar it feels as though we’ve been together for decades.

Then there are times, like now, that it strikes me with ferocity that I didn’t have this one year ago. I couldn’t have imagined this in my wildest dreams.

I didn’t dream I’d have a passion for painting, nor could I have thought I’d be unexpectedly skilled at it. I never would have even thought I’d have my own home furnished in a way that pleases me and makes me feel safe. Even though we were free in some ways, I never dreamed I’d have a friendship with my band of brothers like we have now.

Most of all, I couldn’t have imagined what I have here with Jenna. Though our physical coupling is not just perfect, it keeps getting better, that’s not what makes my heart expand with happiness at moments like these.

It’s our connection, the way we can talk about anything from our sexual fantasies to our hopes and dreams of the future.

How I got so lucky is beyond me. Jenna would disagree. She’s said no one deserves happiness more than me for all the bad days I had to endure. Maybe that’s true. Maybe I do deserve it, but it makes me wonder if some force larger than us somehow brought us together.

I’m the luckiest male in the world, and I vow to continue on a daily basis to make her feel the same.

I step out from behind the canvas with a sexy grin on my face and ask, “I wonder what, my love, could I do right now that would make you feel like the luckiest woman on the planet?”

She tosses me a blinding smile and says, “I already feel that way, but if it isn’t too much trouble, maybe you could sashay that sexy ass over here and help me mess up the sheets just a bit more—for art’s sake.”

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