Page 119 of Dr. Bad Boy

I start with the biggest one. I got this at the grocery store yesterday.

She rips off the wrapping paper and starts laughing. It’s an econo-pack of sunscreen.

“Technically there is a baby one in there,” I point out.

“I see that,” she giggles.

I hand over the next one. This was fun to pick out from the timely email Nordstrom sent me last week with an alert that it was my last chance to buy with free holiday shipping. It’s light as air, and will look amazing on her.

She unwraps it and holds it up. “Wow.”

“That might be more a present for me,” I admit.

The bikini is…small. Black and nothing but strings and a few triangles of fabric

“Your presents come with a good amount of commentary,” she says dryly as I hand over the smallest present. I carefully fashioned this to look like a small box, but it’s really just an envelope. Two can play at the decoy game.

The dates for the tickets are totally flexible, whenever she can get the time off, but sometime soon, I’m taking Violet to—

“The Bahamas?” She throws herself into my arms.

I grin. “Merry Christmas, kitten.”

45

Max

After a lazy Christmas afternoon together, we head across the city to her building. She’s making a cranberry apple crumble for Misfit Christmas dinner at her friend’s, and I don’t have all the supplies for that but she does. So we get to her apartment an hour before we’re expected at dinner, and she whips the crumble topping together while I help reach things that are up high.

Once it’s in the oven, I wrap my arms around and hug her from behind. “We could start packing.”

“Packing what?”

“Your stuff.” I gesture around the apartment. “To move over to my place.”

She turns around and gives me a curious look. “Oh. Right.”

“You don’t want to?”

“I do!” She nods. “I’ll pack up some clothes.”

I follow her into her room and watch her flip through the hangers in her closet. “Are you thinking about keeping this place?”

She makes a noncommittal noise and keeps searching through her wardrobe. One in every four items is coming out and being piled on the bed.

One in four suggests the other three are staying here.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Violet.”

“Yes?” She gives me a quick glance over her shoulder, but darts her attention away again just as quickly.

“Do you want to keep this apartment for a while?”

She nods.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

A little shrug. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I just assumed that’s how it would go. That I’d stay with you most of the time, but…”

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