39. Is That A Mariachi Band? #2
And there’s my principal, shaking a maraca and moving his hips right along with them, and I’m standing here like a jackass with one hand on my mouth, the other on my cheek.
One of the boys pulls my hand from my mouth and starts spinning me around, but I’m stiff as a board and wind up stumbling over my own two feet.
When the music ends, the only thing to be heard above the applause is the cackling. The piercing, high-pitched, evil cackling.
Cara falls out of my office with her phone in hand. She keels over, slapping both knees as she howls with laughter. “Oh my God. That was priceless.” She’s crying. I might be too. “You shoulda…your face… Oh my God ! This video is gold, Livvie, pure gold! Carter’s gonna die!”
Oh, he’s gonna die, all right. Birthday boy is gonna get some birthday bumps.
* * *
By the time I pull into my driveway, I’m utterly exhausted. All I want to do is take off my bra and bury my head between the couch cushions while I pretend to stay awake for Carter. I wonder if he’d object to me getting in a bubble bath while we talk. Probably not.
The man has managed to avoid every single one of my text messages today.
At first, I suspected he was scared after the mariachi band.
Then I realized he’s probably getting some sort of sick enjoyment out of it.
He likes to get me riled up. Something about hot sex when I’m mad at him.
Except that we can’t benefit from hot, angry sex tonight.
Also, I’m not actually angry. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a man as flashy as him. He probably would have done the exact same thing if he’d been in town today, except he would’ve been right there dancing along with the band and my principal.
The decision is made as I push through my door and start kicking off my boots. Bubble bath. Wine. Oreos. I’ll have to buy a new package for Carter’s birthday cake.
I’m not surprised by the red and pink foil heart balloons taking up my entryway. In fact, I puff a laugh as I shimmy my way over to them and the small package they’re tied to. He got Cara to film the mariachi band debacle, of course he got her to finish the day with one more gift at home.
Running my finger along the edge of the pink envelope, I pull the card out. There’s a picture of a smiling octopus on the front, and it says I wish I were an octopus so I had eight hands to touch your butt with .
That’s when I really start laughing. This man makes me so unquestionably happy with his goofiness, his uncanny ability to always be himself, and just when I think I couldn’t possibly love him more, he proves me wrong.
The inside of the card? Way better than the outside.
Ollie Girl,
I’ve made a lot of mistakes, lived my life a little too carelessly, in ways that people didn’t approve of.
But I wouldn’t change a thing. Because I was waiting for you.
Waiting for a love that would walk into my life and blow my whole world up.
I want to celebrate every Valentine’s Day I’m here, and I’m wearing it—and he smiles.
“I know Valentine’s Day means a lot to some people.
A lot of people don’t want to be alone. They want hope for more.
But I…I never wanted it to mean anything.
Not then, at least. And my birthday…It was my day, my time.
If we were away for a game, a few of the guys and I would go out for dinner and drinks.
And if I was home, I’d have dinner with Mom, Jennie, and Hank. ”
“Will they be upset they missed dinner tonight since you came home?”
Carter shakes his head, tickling my ankle in his lap. “My mom said she was happy I found someone that makes me want to fly all the way home just to be with her on this day.”
I grin at him as my heart squeezes in my chest, and he flashes me a matching smile as he leans across the table, taking my chin between his fingers and kissing my lips.
He settles back in his spot. “I can’t wait to see the new Disney movie with you.”
My fork clatters to the table. “What?”
His head bobs as he avoids my gaze. “Yeah, and I owe you a new box of Oreos for my birthday cake. I accidentally ate a row while waiting for you to get home from work today. That recipe looks fantastic, though. Oh, and you know how I washed these shirts? I also washed the one I found in a gift bag, the one that said Mr. Incredible .”
“ Carter !”
He lifts his head, pinning me with a sheepish grin and a shrug that’s anything but innocent. “You can’t be mad at me. I’m the birthday boy.”