Page 62 of Make My Heart Malt

Shit. He’s going to be sorely disappointed when I hand him his unwrapped present. Hopefully, he’ll be too amazed by what it is to care. I tug on one end of the ribbon, and it comes undone. I peel away at the pristine wrapping paper, not wanting to rip it. After lifting the lid, the crinkle of tissue paper fills the room as I push it to the side. When I reach the bottom, I freeze. All the air escapes my lungs, and I forget how to breathe. Tears well in the corners of my eyes as I slowly lift my gaze to meet Garrett’s. “What is this?” I choke out.

“You know how your recipe book went missing for a few days…”

I nod, brows pinched together.

“I may have borrowed it so I could make copies of your recipes and create a book for you.”

My fingers trace over the glossy wordsThe Drink Menu. I’m in complete disbelief that he did this.

“If you don’t like the title, we can always make you a different one. I just wanted to give you something.”

“Oh! No! This is… I don’t know what to say." My voice quivers as a tear breaks free and slides down my cheek. I swipe it away. “That’s a happy tear.” A laugh bubbles out of me.

“You love it?” A hopeful smile flirts on his lips.

“Garrett, I more than love it.” I set the box on the counter and jump to my feet, throwing my arms around his neck. “This is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “But you have to look inside. That’s the best part.”

While standing at the counter, I flip through the pages. Garrett presses his front against my back as he looks over my shoulder, his hands resting on the counter, caging me in.

“This is amazing! And you have pictures. How did you do all this? This must have cost a fortune.”

“Only half a fortune.”

I twist my head to look at him, wide-eyed.

He laughs. “It wasn’t that much. I called in some favors. My agent’s sister knows self-publishing, so she helped me create the book. She also hooked me up with a formatter, and a friend of a friend is a photographer. Another friend knows a thing or two about mixing drinks,so she helped me try to make the drinks look as authentic to your recipes as possible.”

“Garrett, this is amazing. I can’t believe you did this.” I continue flipping page after page. As soon as my eyes scan the name of one of the recipes, I freeze. A boisterous laugh bursts out of me. “What is this one?” I twist to face him, my finger resting on the glossy page.

A boyish grin covers his lips. “I got creative and made my own cocktail.”

I stare at the name. “G Plus D,” I whisper.

“Sorry, the name isn’t as cool as all yours.” He lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. “They say it really helps to get the clothes to fall off.”

I throw my head back with laughter and point at the recipe. “Well, it’s the tequila.” I’m still in utter shock he did this for me. “Thank you so much. This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his. His hands slide over my waist and his arms drape on my hips, holding me to him as if he never wants to let me go. A chill runs up my spine when his fingertips tickle the back of my thighs right below my butt.

“Since we’re exchanging gifts now, I have to give you yours.”

“My undressing you while you’re wearing my jersey isn't my present?”

“No. That’s like the bonus present. For both of us. Wait right here. I’ll be right back.” I saunter out of the kitchen and add an extra sway to my hips, since Garrett's watching me.

He groans. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s adjusting himself in his jeans.

I grab his present from my bedroom and return downstairs with both of my hands behind my back. “I didn’t wrap it as beautifully as yours. In fact, I didn’t wrapit at all, so don’t judge me.” He smiles and sits up in his chair. “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

He does as I say. “You’re not going to club me upside the head with a baseball bat and shove a ball down my throat and give me what I deserve after all these years, are you?”

I laugh. “That’s a really good idea. I should’ve gone with that.” He lifts one eyelid and smirks. I slap a hand over his eyes to make sure he can’t see. “I promise no bats or balls.”

“I’m kind of disappointed in the no balls.”

“Maybe later.”

“I’m holding you to it.”

---