Page 113 of Married to Number 22
With ice cream and pastries, books…and most importantly,orgasms.
None of which is all that conducive to our family surrounding us, eyes locked onto Luna and me, the mood oddly anticipatory.
I glance around again, trying to put my finger on that.
I mean, Luns makes great hot cocoa.
But it’s midnight after playing a tough game against the Eagles, and…
Well, we should all be heading off to bed—and the aforementioned bedroom sex for Luns and me, to whatever else the rest of these jokers want to be doing in their own bedrooms (in their own houses, except for Bri).
Instead, everyone is standing around…waiting.
For what, though, I don’t know.
“Bri?” Luna murmurs and I feel the energy ramp up, practically ripple through my mom and Smitty.
What the fuck?
“I got it,” Bri replies softly, lifting the tray from beside Luna that I hadn’t noticed before.
I see now that it’s filled with enough mugs for everyone, all steaming, all filling the air with the delicious smell of hot cocoa.
Bri carries it carefully to the kitchen island, setting it between everyone.
But in front of me.
I guess they want me to pass them out?
I smother my frown, reach for the first glass, intending to give it to Luna?—
And then I freeze.
Because there are letters in each the mugs—candy letters tucked into the mounds of whipped cream.
Letters that don’t make sense…
Except they do when I put them all together.
Because they’re spelling out:
Happy Anniversary.
And after that:
Congrats, Dad!
I turn to my dad, genuinely perplexed—especially since everyone seems to be waiting for a response from me. “Did you get a promotion or something?” I ask him.
There’s silence.
Then Bri starts laughing. She turns to Luna, eyes dancing. “You called it!”
“I, um, called what?” My dad’s job? I thought he was going to retire next year.
Bri shakes her head and, eyes twinkling, she starts passing out mugs. But her words are directed at Luns instead of answering my question. “I think it’s time for you to go to your plan.”
Luna’s eyes are sparkling similarly, but she doesn’t argue, just lifts a small gift bag from behind her and brings it over to me.
