Chapter 22
Gwen
On Drake's porch was a medium-sized box – a delivery from the postal service. It was nearly nightfall, and I was here without the kittens for some unknown excursion that Drake had planned.
A surprise, he'd called it.But the thing that surprised me now was the name on the package. I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion as I stared down at the box by my feet. It wasn't addressed to Drake or even Clint. Instead, it was addressed to someone named Murphy Slater.
Thelastname matched, but thefirstname was a total mystery.Who, exactly was Murphy?
I picked up the package and rang the doorbell. When Drake opened the door, I announced with a smile, "Special Delivery."
His eyes warmed. "Hey, what do you know? It's just what I wanted."But he wasn't looking at the package.He was looking atme.
My heart gave a funny little flutter as I held out the box. "This was on the porch."
He took the package off my hands and led me inside. After I shut the door behind us, he said, "Hang on. I'll be right back."
I watched as he turned and carried the package deeper into the house. When he disappeared around a corner, I heard the distinct sounds of a door opening and shutting, followed by footsteps going down the stairs.
I knew they weren't goingupthe stairs because the upper staircase, I could see. In contrast, I'd never once glimpsed the stairway leading to the basement where Drake's office was supposedly located.
Funny, I hadn't beenupstairseither. For whatever reason, Drake was taking things slow in the physical department. Oh sure, we'd had plenty of makeout sessions and our fair share of heavy petting. And Iknewhe was attracted to me because there were times –plentyof times, come to think of it – when I could feel his arousal pressing against my hip.
As for my own feelings, I'd been plenty aroused myself, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that there were an embarrassing number of nights where Drake had starred in my fantasies as I brought them to fruition on my own.
But ifhewas happy taking it slow, I was happy, too. It was nice – this getting to know each other, and I figured we'd have plenty of time for other stuff when the moment was right.
When Drake returned from the basement, he was wearing a dark wool coat that I had never seen along with a jaunty red scarf. The coat was slightly dressy in a classic, timeless style with loops and toggles down the front instead of a zipper.
I asked, "New coat?"
He nodded. "Early Christmas present."
I smiled. "Lemme guess. From your grandpa?"
Drake grinned. "Oh, yeah. He gave it to me early so I could look more 'classy' for the thing today."
I still didn't know what "the thing" was, and I lowered my head to give my own attire a long, worried look. Drake had said nothing about dressing up, so I was wearing my favorite jeans, a white corded sweater, and my usual winter coat, which was pretty basic compared to his.
I was just wondering if I should've worn dressier clothing when Drake said, "Don't worry. It's not a dress-up thing." He smiled. "Wanna know whatIthink?"
"What?"
"He wants me to impress you."
"Your grandpa? Why?"
"Because he likes you." Drake chuckled. "I think he's sizing you up for a more permanent position."
Silly or not, I was obscenely flattered. With a teasing laugh, I said, "Oh, really?"
"Oh, yeah." He moved toward me. "You've gotta admit, the guy's got taste."
I gave Drake a playful poke to the chest. "With me or the coat?"
"Why not both?" Drake laughed. And with that, he pulled me close and kissed me soundly before telling me that we'd better get going if we didn't want to be late.
We'd just headed into the attached garage when the largest garage door began rumbling upward, and I turned to see a white Lincoln Continental pulling into the driveway.
