Page 80 of Pucker Up
“We both know luck has nothing to do with this.” His voice was raspy. “This was meant to be, G.G. You, me, the Mortman, and this cabin in the woods.” He kissed me.
I no longer had any visions of me and Ace, or his hockey career, but I didn’t need them to know that the man was my soulmate. Would future concussions change him? Maybe, but I wasn’t going to let that get between us. My advisor had been fired from the University for misappropriating the donation from the hockey team. It was the catalyst for the shift in my work, I was now studying recovery and treatment. We had come a long way in the years since my dad played contact sports, but if there was anything I could do to protect and treat the two most important men in my life, I was going to do it. “I love you Ace Bailey.”
“I love you, Marigold Swanson.”
He kept one hand cupped on my ass while the other crept to my messy hair. He fisted it, tilting my head back to kiss meagain. We were surrounded in steam and after our lips parted I stepped away from Ace, pulling him by the hand into the shower. “I can’t in good conscience let you out into the world on your birthday with this situation.”
“What situation, my dick?” Ace gave a hip thrust, his erection at its max, stood tall and stoic in the steamy shower air. Slick with water and sandalwood soap, I started Ace off with my hand, but he finished inside me, bringing my morning total to three Acegasms.
The A-frame was perchedon a rocky outcropping with beautiful decks for enjoying the sunrise, but the real show-stopper was the rooftop of the boathouse. There was a full bar, outdoor kitchen, and a lounge area that could rival any fancy restaurant in the city. A red and white checkered tablecloth fluttered in the breeze, weighed down with summer salads, chips and salsa, antipasto, and way too many appetizers for the small birthday gathering.
I was at the boathouse getting the snacks ready when the sound of Ace’s flip flops interrupted me. “When are the guys getting here?” Ace’s wardrobe was still as bizarre as the first day we’d met on the ferry. For a man who could afford Gucci and Prada, he prided himself on wearing clothes from the thrift store. Today it was blue and white seersucker shorts with a matching button up top. A pair of blue Adidas slides and a backwards Toronto Tigers hat completed his outfit.
“You look like you robbed a grandpa in the Hamptons.”
He popped the collar and slid the mountaineering glasses down his nose while pumping his eyebrows at me. “Not justany grandpa, a southern gentleman.” Ace kissed me and then popped a tortilla chip into his mouth.
I checked my watch, my birthday gift from Ace, a retro pink Swatch with a moon behind its hands. “They should be here in about twenty minutes. Mel is getting here at noon.”
Ace grabbed my wrist and turned it to look at the hands of my watch. “Does that mean we have time for one more?”
“You’re insatiable.” I giggled. “And, no. I want to give you your gift before the guys get here.”
“What. Right here on the roof of the boathouse?” He turned in a slow circle with his arms spread wide. “What will the new neighbours think?”
I dragged him away from the snacks and down the stairs to the sleeping quarters that sat above the boat slips. “Close your eyes,” I whispered. The screen door squeaked as I pulled it open and Ace and I stepped inside.
Ace took off his sunglasses and put his hand over his eyes as I steered him to the bed. Standing on my tip toes I whispered into his ear. “Open.”
I moved away so I could see his face. He reached for me, but then noticed the box on the bed. “What is this?” He pulled me back beside him.
“It’s your present.” I placed my hand on the box with the massive orange ribbon.
“But, you’re not in it.” His cheeks were flushed, he was better at giving gifts than receiving them. I tugged at the ribbon’s tail, but not hard enough to undo it.
“Ace Bailey, just open the damn thing.”
He slung his arm over my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “I like it when you tell me what to do.”
“Open it.” I pointed to the box and tried to put on my best ‘air of authority’ voice.
A boat droned by and the waves from its wake lapped against the dock beneath us. Ace pulled off the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. “Goldie,” he croaked. “You didn’t have to do this.”
He pulled the guitar out of the box. The A-frame had come with all of its furniture, including an out of tune acoustic guitar. Ace had been plucking away on it for the last three months and had told me that if he wasn’t a hockey player, he’d be a rock star. I had laughed, but he picked it up like he’d been playing his entire life. The man was not only a gifted athlete, but also a natural musician. “It’s not an Angus Young,” I smiled. “You have to win the cup before you can get one of those.”
The guitar’s rich sound filled the small bedroom of the boathouse as Ace ran his thumb over the strings. Watching Ace step into his gifts made my heart swell. He was thoughtful, brilliant, and easily the best human being I’d ever known. Witnessing him realize his brilliance made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He no longer referred to himself as a dumb jock. He strummed some chords and then plucked a few notes.
“I know that song, what is it…” I tapped my finger on my lips. Ace grinned and started singing the lyrics. It was a folked up version ofGirls Just Wanna Have Fun. He set down the guitar, “I’ve been practicing that for your mom.”
“She’ll probably cry.” I smiled.
A horn honked and Morton’s friendly bark echoed over the water. “Our guests have arrived. Want to place a bet on whether it’s my friends or yours?” Ace had insisted that I invite Mel to the party.
“Hmmm.” I tilted my head and closed my eyes.
“No fair,” he shouted. “You can’t keep winning the bets with your intuition.” He used air quotes and then the two of us bounded up the stairs to meet his friends.
Holmes, Banksy, and Ethan were already inside the cottage, filling up the fridge with beer. “Hey, can we take some of this stuff out?” Holmes held up a carton of eggs.
