Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
A week after the chaos that was my finding out that my boyfriend had been quietly working behind the scenes to make all of my wishes come true, I wake in Graham’s arms, in Graham’s bed.
It’s been the best week of my life, if I’m being honest.
Once everything was out in the open, Graham seemed lighter, and I realized he must have been nervous about my finding out for some time.
Part of me wonders if he would have held onto those secrets forever, but another part simply doesn’t care.
Nothing he did was manipulative in the way of making me have feelings for him: if anything, from what I understand, it was meant to be a way for him to make me happy from afar, though my incessant need to be friends with him threw a wrench in his plans.
But now, there’s nothing between us, and I’m happier and more settled into my life than I ever have.
Yesterday was Sunday, and we spent the night at the Seabreeze with the crew, Graham hanging with the guys; me and the girls gabbing while Lainey worked, and it felt so incredibly perfect, like where we were all supposed to be.
This week, we’ll be ironing out the dates and times for my heading down to the Keys for my first big commission.
Graham is heading down with me and has already convinced me to tack on a few days.
When I objected, he said a weekend with me at a luxury resort is his dream.
I reminded him I’ll be there for work, and when he said that I needed a better work-life balance, I laughed until I couldn’t breathe.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Morning,” Graham says as I slowly enter the land of the living. His fingers move through my hair, pushing it back over my shoulder.
“Morning,” I murmur into his chest, melting back into the bed. Maybe that third drink Sutton talked me into wasn’t my best plan. Before I can fall into the depths of sleep once more, though, his voice enters my consciousness once more, knocking me straight into reality.
“Happy second birthday, June.”
Everything stops.
My eyes open, blinking once, twice, three times as his hand continues to brush my hair back before I dare to look up at him.
He’s grinning down at me, a smile I have come to love so damned much, near-blinding.
“Did you think I’d forget?” Hesitantly and nervously, I sit up, his tee pooling around my hips.
My hair is a mess, I’m sure, but I watch intently as he reaches over to his bedside table, pulling out a flat square box wrapped in pink paper with a red ribbon.
“What is this?” I ask as he hands it to me.
“Your second birthday present,” he says simply. I fumble the package with his words, letting it tumble to the bedspread. Everything stops: my breathing, my heart, my world.
“Second…” I start, the words clogging in my throat as my eyes water again. This seems to be happening a lot lately.
“Today is a week after your real birthday. It’s your second birthday.” For a moment, he looks confused and a bit nervous. “That’s what you told me, right? One week after your birthday and…”
His words trail off, and I watch in awe before letting him out of his misery.
“Yeah. Yes, Graham. It’s….this is it. But you didn’t have to do this,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Yes, I did,” he says, lifting the package once more and handing it over. This time, I don’t drop it, even if my hands are shaking.
Instead, I gently tug on the ribbon, already thinking of ways to use it, to add some color to his place.
My apartment lease is up in two months, and while we haven’t had the formal conversation yet, Graham has made it clear that he wants me to move in with him rather than renew my lease.
As much as I plan to fight him on it, it’s mostly for the thrill of it, because I like fighting with Graham.
We both know I’ll be moving in with him.
Hell, I’ve already been working on adding my touch to every inch of the place.
But all thoughts of decorations and moving in are gone from my mind as I open the box and find a shiny gold bracelet lying inside. Dainty links make a chain big enough for my wrist, and along the edges are three different charms.
A paintbrush.
A sand dollar.
A four-leaf clover.
“A lucky charm,” he says, watching as I run a careful finger over the little clover. “Now you’ll always have something lucky with you.” My eyes water at the gesture, my throat tightening with emotion. ”June, don’t—”
“Do not tell me not to cry, Graham Hawthorne, not when you’re doing sweet things for me.
” He grins, and I take in a deep breath, putting a hand out to him.
“Put it on me.” He gives me the soft, entertained smile I get from him a lot lately, the one I now realize is intertwined with love, before he puts the gold chain around my wrist. It’s cold but warms quickly, and as his fingers slide over my skin, that warmth travels through my veins, settling in my chest. I stare at it as he finishes with the clasp, touching the dangling charms.
I can’t believe this.
I can’t believe him.
I can’t believe I’m somehow so damned lucky to have found a man whom I mentioned something to one time, in passing, and he made it happen.
“I thought I could add one every second birthday,” he says low, and the implication of what he means by that, that he plans to be here for every second birthday from now on, is not lost on me.
“God, you’re so fucking good, aren’t you?” I say, turning my wrist and hearing the happy jingle the charms make. I always wanted a charm bracelet as a kid, though I never told Graham that. Just further proof he was made for me, that he knows me better than anyone ever has tried to know me before.
“I’m learning.” A soft smile plays on his lips, and I slide my arms over his shoulders, pulling him close to press a kiss to his lips.
“You’re doing great,” I say, then shift until I’m straddling him. “Now, I think it’s time I showed my appreciation.”
And then he lets me.
And he shows me some back.
And we’re both fifteen minutes late to work.