In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod) (15 page)

“I
promise you it isn’t a tainted groveling gift. I phrased that all wrong when I was telling you why I hadn’t called. I thought of nothing but pleasing you the whole time I was picking it out.”

I
spread a hand against my chest and grinned back. “I’m so happy to hear that because now I can accept your gift!” I rubbed my hands together quickly in eager anticipation. “Are you thinking I should open it now, before we forget?”

Luke bent his head to the side in consideration
. His black brows contracted in a deep V of a frown and his fingers began to strum idly on the steering wheel. Luke was yummy when he’s grinning, but it was nothing compared to what the sight of him in think mode does to me. This time it was my thighs I caught myself unconsciously rubbing together. At the stridulating of his drumming fingers, I had another thought about insects.

Luke’s thinking fingers
work on me similar to a male cricket rubbing its wings to attract its female mate. First he draws my attention with the soft song of his light strumming, and then lures me in closer with a louder drumming to demonstrate the intenseness of his need. He even plays his fingers up and down my body in post-copulation bliss.

‘
My god, it’s absolutely incredible the amount of tricks Mother Nature has up her sleeve to assure the act of propagation is irresistible!’

I
quickly paid attention when Luke answered slowly, “You were wrong about it being a tainted gift, but you’ve made me reconsider. It wasn’t the right time to give you this present. I’d like you to be patient with me, so that I can give it to you when the timing is perfect.” His voice dropped lower and he didn’t quite meet my eyes when he added, “If that’s okay with you?”

I
just stared at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke appear even a tiny bit shy, so my fingers itched to rip his jacket open and grab the present, but he was being sincere.

‘What gift could possibly make
this badass act shy under any conceivable circumstance?’
sniffed the mean mommy’s voice suspiciously.

Ab
sently nodding, I was already feeling possessive over the little red bag, so another thought was more important to me right now.

“
I guess that’s okay,” I reluctantly agreed, “but do you promise not to exchange this gift for another one when I’m not around?”

Luke’s eyes
flaring slightly were the only sign I’d startled him, but then he grinned. “I promise, Anabel.”

“Yeah right,
says the white man Indian-giver,” I muttered under my breath.

F
or some reason, I was channeling my inner Russian and fatalistically convinced that I was never going to see the perfect timing happen for my present. Not after we talked about the next subject.

Luke
heard me and laughed again. “Tell you what; I’ll give you the gift bag to hold. You can stash it wherever you want, or lock it in a bank vault for all I care.” He pointed a finger and narrowed his eyes in warning. “You remember my rules?”

I scoffed,
“I only invented the word.” Batting aside his pointing finger, I teased, “My God, just how long do you think it’s going to take you to time this perfectly? What if it’s a Sunday when you decide and the bank isn’t open?”

Luke
’s only response was a small smile while he reached into the hidden depths of his jacket to pull out the red gift bag.

Dangling it over my cupped hands, he
dropped it and said, “Final subject, Anabel?”

My
joking words dried up in my throat and I caught myself unconsciously squeezing the little bag. I took a deep, cleansing breath. I dreaded talking about this subject and would avoid it entirely, if only my pride would allow me to, but it wouldn’t.

Along with the dread, I
was nurturing a deep resentment that I’ve been put in the position to have to bring it up. Luke should have told me weeks ago, if for no other reason than there are so many ways I could find out. I’ve tried to let it go and not think about it, or come up with excuses for Luke, but it was just no good.

If
I’ve been acting a little schizo tonight, it was because love has made me delusional. At my shock at seeing Luke walk into that black hole of Calcutta kitchen tonight, I grabbed onto a slice of temporary happiness with both hands and couldn’t resist letting him have his way with me in the truck. I brought up other issues, instead of this huge one that was causing me dread. Perhaps I was optimistically hoping this issue would magically resolve itself, but I have to man up to the truth.

For someone whose feet
were usually firmly on the ground, I believed my new found love for Luke has my head dreamily up in the clouds, or maybe it was stuck far up my arse. Wherever my head has been hiding, it was now time to put it back onto my neck where it belonged.

I
was not a woman willing to be treated like an idiot or disregarded. If being Luke’s girlfriend meant any of those unhappy things, I’ll pass. I’d rather be miserable without him and have my self-respect versus miserable with him and be a patsy.

This
was the major reason I’ve been trudging around doing my imitation of a zombie for the last few days. From all I’ve read, zombies didn’t feel pain while I’ve been just pretending.

Luke
was alertly watching me with concern in his deep green eyes, or maybe it was an inkling of self-preservation from sensing a destructive force whipping up around us in the truck cab.

So what d
oes a mature woman do when her back’s against the wall?

That’s
right; she acts like a complete baby.

“
Thank you so much for rescuing me tonight.” I hope Luke thought my eyes were sparkling due to their usual sapphire brilliance, and not because of the alien wetness that I was mortified to discover had snuck up to invade them. “Okay, final subject, two more questions.”

‘
Dammit
,
dry up or I swear to God I’ll give you something to really leak over,’
I warned my stupid eyes.

“S
peaking of white man Indian-givers, why have you never told me that you’ve lived with Svettie in your studio condo in Chicago since I’ve met you, and more importantly, still do? Boyfriend, where have you slept these last two weeks?”

“Anabel, are you crying?” Luke asked softly.

‘Well, crap!’

“
Blurred Lines” by Robin Thicke ft. T. I., Pharrell

Friday, 12/07/12

12:30
AM

Clutching the gift bag
, I crossed my arms, blinked rapidly, and replied firmly, “Who knows what’s going on with my damn eyes; please just ignore them like I am.”

“You are really upset over this, aren’t you?”
Luke started to reach for me, but something in my face stilled his hands and he let them drop while continuing to search my face.

I returned his regard steadily, although it
wasn’t easy, since I saw a coolness begin to shutter his eyes. That didn’t bode well and I took another yoga breath. It wasn’t in my nature to run from problems, at least not for long enough or for far enough, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed these kinds of confrontations. I’d rather be having relations than discussing relationships.

“I thought we’d resolved the iss
ue of Svetlana.” The tenor of his voice hadn’t changed, but there was steel showing under the softness, as if in warning that I was pushing him.

“
I did too, so you can imagine my surprise,” I answered quietly, undeterred since atomic number 26 could be found in my backbone.

Regarding me all the while with a penetrating, measuring look,
Luke sat back and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, This was no mating call, or maybe I was mistaken and these boundary discussions were a part of the couple’s mating dance, as natural as making love. Not a very fun thought if they were.

Luke’s
voice was level and calm. “We’re both people that value our personal privacy, Anabel, and aren’t used to sharing or explaining ourselves. Wouldn’t you agree that during the time we’ve dated, both of us have kept more information about our lives separate from each other than we’ve shared?” There’s an ironic edge when he said, “I’ve never met a woman holding her cards closer to her chest than you do, but I trust you. Anything you haven’t told me yet, I’ve always assumed isn’t a deal breaker.”

That’s great for him, but it d
idn’t answer my questions.

S
o I remained silent, waiting.

He stopped drumming
the steering wheel with a final, small smack of his open hand. “Not telling you that Svetlana is staying in my condo started as a conscious decision at first because of her ex-boyfriend and the secrecy involved. Then it didn’t matter to me because Svetlana doesn’t matter to me, so I didn’t think much about it after that.” He shrugged one shoulder, but it was a tense, jerky movement. “Honestly, I forgot you didn’t even know about it over time, since I’m so rarely at my condo anymore. Until this past Thanksgiving weekend, I basically saw Svetlana at the office occasionally and communicated with her through texts about my schedule.”

I
was starting to feel a burgeoning hope. His response seemed logical to me and an accurate representation of how our relationship had evolved. Luke definitely has a point that sharing details of our individual private lives was not a priority before we branded ourselves. I know it wasn’t for me, that was for darned sure.

I
love this man and could cheerfully live the rest of my life without this kind of drama. Role playing was my preferred theatrics of choice. However, the last question was still glaringly unanswered. I had to know.

“I get that before Thanksgiving, but
what about these past two weeks while you have been in Chicago?”

My eyes
were drawn to Luke’s fingers when they started drumming a louder beat on the console and he asked in a dangerously soft tone, “Anabel, are you seriously questioning me?”

Looking down
unseeingly at the red gift bag in my hands, I responded miserably, “Won’t you just answer the question, so we can be done with this subject?”

Luke tilted my face up with a large hand cupping my cheek. His eyes
were intense lasers boring into mine. “Are you looking for a reason to end our relationship? To be done with me?”

I couldn’t resist rubbing my cheek
into his warmth, even as his continued bobbing and weaving instead of giving a straight answer was making me impatient. “No. Are you?”

Luke
didn’t immediately reply, but went to remove the gift bag currently being mutilated in my twisting hands. I made a small involuntary noise at being robbed and he paused. Glinting green eyes looked up and an eyebrow arched. I let go of the handles. He then tugged the red bag apart at the top. The bag resisted enough that even in my confusion at what he was doing; it registered that he must have sealed it closed using double-sided tape.

Pushing aside pink tissue paper, he reached
inside to withdraw a white velvet box. It was much too small to hold a cabin key. An odd smile was playing on his lips that I couldn’t begin to interpret.

‘THIS is the perfect time?’
I thought in amazed bewilderment.

He
captured my nervous gaze while bringing my hand to his lips. Pressing a soft kiss onto my curled fingers, Luke’s other hand opened the velvet case with a flick of his thumb. I blinked at the dazzling brilliance.

The sex kitten moaned
.

The accountant
whistled.

The detective harrumphed.

The mean mommy voice whispered
, ‘This tricky bastard plays dirty!’

I
was speechless.

There was a hush in the truck, the kind of silence that was lush and heavy with unspoken words. I was aware my boyfriend was closely gauging my reaction because I felt his scrutiny like a touch.

“Luke!” I breathed
, transfixed by the sparkling display of gemstones.

The
platinum ring nestled in a valley of white satin was a frosted confection of glittering icy-white diamonds, shimmering blue topazes and sapphires. If this were a fairy tale, the jewel’s origins would be described as mystically forged from the purest snow found on the highest peak of an unassailable mountaintop under the bluest skies of a far-off kingdom, and destined for a winter princess.

“
How beautiful!” I whispered, not lifting my eyes and meaning every reverent syllable.

I’ve ne
ver beheld a ring so perfectly right for me, not that I was a winter princess or anything stupidass like that. Luke’s reply was a satisfied smile that I was only dimly aware of because I couldn’t drag my eyes wholly off the ring yet. He turned my hand over and tickled my palm with another kiss.

No matter my longing, I
wasn’t dissuaded and ask doggedly, “Are you going to answer my question where you’ve slept?”