Page 107 of Everything's Better With You
“I was thinking more likeMen in Black. I was waiting for the flashy thingie.”
Leslie rubbed his back and Joe felt those stomach flutterings like he had back in August.Whoa. So much had happened since then. It had been exciting and fun…and then scary and wonderful…and then awful. And now he was holding onto Leslie for dear life in Hawaii and he wasn’t sure if these flutterings were nerves, the alcohol, or…
“What do you think?”
Leslie gently removed Joe’s arms and turned him around.
“Oh, Leslie!”
A breathtakingly beautiful private beach illuminated by a full moon over calm waters. It was a picture out of a magazine, likeNational Geographic. It was pure magic. He wanted to weep, he—
“Babe, why are you crying?”
Joe’s lower lip fluttered as he sucked in a breath.
“Why are you so fucking perfect, Leslie? Why? Why do you show me such beauty and then you show me this beach and you’re so beautiful.”
“And why did I allow my brothers to ply you with champagne? Come here.”
Joe felt himself levitating and he thought maybe he’d died and gone to heaven. That would explain everything.
“Here, rest your head.”
Leslie had somehow maneuvered them onto a wide lounge chair contraption and Joe was now curled against him, weeping.
“I am a weepy drunk, I admit it. I’m sorry. But it’s your fault for being so perfect, too.”
“Stop it,” Leslie said, pressing a kiss against Joe’s forehead. “I’m farfrom perfect. Let me hold you, Joe. I’m so sorry. For everything. I’ve missed you so much.”
Joe wanted to beat on his chest and rage about their separation, but he knew it was the champagne. Damn, that had been a bad idea.
“You’re awfully sweet when you’re tipsy, Twinkle Toes.”
“You better always call me Twinkle Toes,” Joe said.
And shortly after that, while Leslie was in the middle of telling him something important, Joe fell asleep.
Joe didn’t remember setting his alarm before falling asleep the night before. He didn’t remember falling asleep. And his face was hot. And it was bright.
He covered his face with a hand and opened one eye to find Leslie’s sleeping face next to his. Then it all came back in a rush. The twins acting weird, the abduction, the limo, laughing Agnes and her delicious champagne—
“No, no, no, no, not champagne,” Joe moaned. He rolled over onto his back and threw his arm over his face. The sun felt so good.
“Good morning, Twinkle Toes. Or should I change it to Tipsy Toes?”
“God, no. Champagne is like truth serum or something, it makes me a wreck. But it’s so good.” He looked around, squinting in the sunlight and then looked down at himself. “Where’d this suit come from? And damn, did you pick it out? If so, you’re shopping for me forever.”
Leslie pushed himself up to sitting and smiled at Joe. “I liked shopping for you. I’ll shop for you anytime. And here,” he said, reaching over to a table next to their ridiculously large lounge chair and handing Joe a green smoothie in a pineapple-shaped glass with a little umbrella.
Joe gasped. “How did you find out?”
Leslie frowned. “Find out what?”
Joe took the drink from him and sucked down a few gulps. His eyes rolled back in his head. “How did you find out about my morning smoothies?”
Leslie’s eyes went wide. “You mean, I now know your secret?”
Joe just blinked at him and hoped the goodness in the glass would clear up the rest of his foggy brain.
