Page 68 of The Husband Diet
Ti Amo
As I was climbing into my car after work the next day (not that I’d got much done, as you can imagine), Julian appeared out of the blue, waving, running toward me. Julian. I almost hadn’t recognized him with his clothes on, so branded in my mind was the image of his beautiful, statuesque, naked body. Face flushed and excited, he made his way over as my heart lurched. God, why was he so sinfully gorgeous?
‘Erica, am I glad I caught you!’ he exclaimed, his other arm pinned behind his back.
‘Julian – is everything OK?’ Did he want to call it off? Had I not performed well enough?
He produced a giant bouquet of red roses and planted a delicious kiss on my mouth that almost bowled me over.
‘Happy birthday, my girl.’
Wait, how did he even know about my birthday? Had he checked the school files? Sneaky, sneaky fox!
‘Oldgirl, you mean,’ I gushed, taking the flowers from him. ‘Thank you so much, Julian.’
‘Old? You’re luminous. Brilliant. Besides the fact that you look sexy as hell sprawled naked on my living room chaise.’
I liked the sound of that, although I was unfamiliar with the concept. I nodded finally and Julian took my hand.
‘Come on, let’s go.’
‘Uhm, I can’t. I have to go home to the kids.’
‘That’s where we’re going,’ he assured.
‘You want to come home with me?’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ he said with a devilish grin.
I stared at him, trying to recover, and finally nodded, realizing my mouth was still open. ‘OK, but I need to go to the supermarket to get some stuff first.’
‘Cool.’
So I let him come grocery shopping with me on my birthday – in my car.
‘Until you take me on board as your cooking student, you’ll have to settle for a British meal,’ he informed me when we got in.
I turned to him. ‘You’re cooking me a meal?’
He grinned his hallmark sexy grin – the one that made me want to jump over the kitchen island in one swing and pull his clothes off.
‘It was the least I could do – plus, it’s your birthday. You shouldn’t have to cook on your birthday.’
Madeleine and Warren had taped balloons and crepe paper all over the living room and kitchen. Julian’s roast beef with potatoes and vegetables and the works was delicious. Just like him. The kids had got me a gift – a beautiful make-up set – with Warren’s money from his paper run and Maddy’s allowance (and I suspect with a little help from the school principal). Julian had taped a Happy Birthday sign high up on the wall, framed with balloons of every color.
‘Ready for my gift?’ he asked and winked at the kids.
I widened my eyes. ‘There’smore?’
He handed me an envelope. Inside was a ticket to Paris and a booking for a five-star hotel, l’Athénée!Andfree entry for a week to the Musée d’Orsay – my favorite Impressionist museum in the whole world.
‘I saw your books on painting,’ he grinned. ‘And I’ve seen your own lovely work hanging around the house.’
Lovely work? Did he see what I saw in my paintings? Did he see the yearning for a dream landscape, my craving for freedom that dotted every corner of my home?
I gaped. ‘Are you crazy? I can’t accept such an expensive gift!’
‘Of course you can.’
