He turns down the music. “Remember when we saw Steve Perry in the produce section at Gelson’s?”
Nope. “Of course,” I say.
“You asked him to sign your squash, but we didn’t have a pen.”
“Classic Steve Perry,” I say. “What is it with that guy and produce?”
“Can I go first?” Jake asks, bouncing on his heels.
I have no idea what he’s talking about. “By all means!”
He opens the brown bag with a snap of his wrists. “For the girl who once told Amy Reisenbach there’s no better breakfast than a hot dog, I give you...” From the bag, Jake lifts three Styrofoam containers, lines them up on a teak dining table, and gently lifts their lids. “A breakfast buffet from—”
“Pink’s?!” I finish his sentence, staring down at my real-life three favorite orders from the famous LA hot dog eatery. The Guadalajara—all those jalapeños! The Rosie O’Donnell—extra-long with sauerkraut! The Brooklyn—pastrami with Swiss!
I have a lot of questions about the conversation Jake just mentioned—starting withwho is Amy Reisenbach—but I have to let that go. I’ve got to stay in the moment. That’s not so hard. I do love the smell of mustard in the morning.
“I love this,” I say without thinking, my eyes locking with Jake’s. I feel the whirlpool between us pull me in. I drop my eyes to the food.
“I loveyou,” he says simply. “And you’re also going to love this playlist, which is all new, no repeats from Reseal the Pool Day.”
“Better not be,” I say mock-sternly, noting our enormous pool’s waterproof flagstone.Wedid that? And also: He loves me?
Like it’s no big deal.
“And now?” Jake asks, dive-bombing a kiss between my eyes.
I close my eyes and fold into him. The need for his affection is growing stronger and more real.
I step away, self-conscious. “And now... what?”
“What’s in the box?”
“Yes! The box!” I look down at my present for Jake, every bit as curious as he is.I hand it over. “Knock yourself out.”
His eyes dance across the wrapping paper. He exhales deeply. My man sure loves his Deck Day.
He shakes the box. “I can’t wait.”
“No need to.”
“Okay.” He smiles. “I’m going in.”
Jake tears into the present like it’s a conjugal visit. His eyes light up as he thrusts his hand into the remaining shards of the box, then withdraws his closed fist. He gives me a naughty grin. “You didn’t.”
“Are you surprised?” I ask, dying to know what I gave him. Cuff links? An ID bracelet?
Jake opens his palm and reveals... a pair of black satin boxer briefs.
“Oh God, they’re butt-enhancing.” He starts laughing, holding them up to his waist, and I see the various nips and tucks in the fabric meant to accentuate a man’s parts. What the hell is wrong with High Life me?
“I told you I would only wear these on the condition that you...” Jake peers inside the box again and looks up at me grinning. “Aha!”
Looped through one finger is a black satin thong.
His and hers.
“Well, game on,” he says, still laughing. “It’s going to be a little distracting, but we can get it done.”