Thrilled To Death
Page 27
He still stood behind me, hadn’t moved. “Old newspapers. Grandpa helped me search them out online. We bought copies, then I had them enlarged. Your father was in the newspaper a few times.” They were prints of his dad fighting fires. I’d found four black-and-white prints in old newspapers that looked pretty good once I had them enlarged, matted, and framed.
Did he like them?
He stepped past me and stood in front of the prints. He didn’t say anything.
I walked up to stand next to him. “You can take them down; do whatever you want with them.” Maybe it was too personal for him. Or too painful. Or maybe it was a silly, female thing.
Moments passed.
Gabe tore his gaze away from the pictures and turned to me. “I want them exactly where you put them. They are special.” He reached for me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. “You are special.”
Gabe was not a man of words, so these words had a quality to them. A magic. “You like them?”
He smiled. It was a rare smile for Gabe, soft and full of something poignant. “I do. I’m blown away that you knew how much I would like them.”
It was my turn to smile. I had no idea how all this was going to work out. Combining offices, training for my PI license, running Heart Mates, loving Gabe. The potential for pain was tremendous. But right now, this moment gave me, us, magic.
I let go and stepped back. “It’s my night to give you what you like.” I stuck out one leg and looked down. In a teasing voice, I asked, “Now what were you saying about my boots?”
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Copyright © 2006 by Jennifer Apodaca
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Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2005928270
ISBN: 978-0-7582-9117-2