Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

“It’s not about the money. I just wanted to do something nice for you. Do you like them?”

“God, yes. This is something I’d dreamed about.”

I pulled him close and kissed him, and he said, “I thought maybe you and I could go to the games with your brother and his boyfriend. It’s meant to be a gift for all four of us.”

“That’ll be great! I just hope you don’t get bored.”

“I’ll love it, I know I will. It means so much to me to see you happy. Plus, you said you’d teach me all about the game, and I bet I’ll end up totally getting into it.”

“I really hope so.”

After a moment, he said, “There’s another reason I wanted to get you these tickets. Football is something you, your brother, and your best friend share. You told me that once. I guess this is my way of showing you I understand how important Seth and Eden are to you, and supporting your relationship with them. I don’t know…it’s hard to put into words. But do you get what I’m trying to say?”

“I do, and this is so thoughtful. I’m just blown away,” I murmured.

I kissed him again, and then he said, “There’s one more gift to open. And before you tell me I spent too much, that one didn’t actually cost me anything.”

I tore open the small box and revealed two leis made of silk flowers, along with a postcard with a picture of Maui on it. On the back of the card he’d written, “Please spend a week in Hawaii with me sometime soon.”

When I met his gaze, he said, “Remember the staff holiday party?”

I grinned at him. “The first time we slept together? Uh, yeah. I remember that.”

“I won the grand prize, although I didn’t find out about it until later because I left before the drawing.”

“That’s fantastic! Why didn’t you tell me you’d won?”

“I thought it’d be a fun Christmas present for you. I almost blew it, though! I mentioned telling you I loved you in Hawaii a couple of days ago, but fortunately you thought I was just using that as a random example of something romantic.”

I drew him onto my lap and kissed him yet again before saying, “These are the best gifts I’ve ever received. I can’t even thank you enough.”

He rested his forehead against mine. “I know I got a little carried away, but thanks for letting me spoil you.”

“You need to open your presents now. I hope you like them.”

He hurried to retrieve the three small gifts by the tree. Then he returned to my lap with them and asked, “Which one should I open first?”

I tapped a rectangular package with Grinch wrapping paper. He plucked off the stick-on bow, then carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a paperback copy of Snow Crash. “It’s my favorite book,” he murmured, as he ran his hand over the cover.

“I know. Look inside.”

When he flipped to the autographed title page, his breath caught and he whispered, “How did you get this?”

“I already owned it when I met you. It was my most prized possession.”

He looked startled and tried to hand it back to me as he exclaimed, “I can’t accept this!”

“Yes, you can. I want you to have it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. It needs to belong to you.”

He asked, “How did you know I love this book?”

“The copy on your bedside table is totally worn out and taped together. It was easy enough to figure out it must be your favorite.”

Theo’s voice was full of emotion as he hugged me and whispered, “I’ll always cherish this, Casey. Thank you so much.”

I picked up a thin package and said, “Open this next. It’s just something silly.”

He carefully placed the book on the coffee table and unwrapped a colorful coupon book, decorated with lots of stickers. I explained, “Okay, so, Alma and Oscar came up with this idea when I was helping Alma make cards. I know it’s cheesy, but I thought you might enjoy it.”

He folded back the cover, and a big smile spread across his face. The first coupon said, “Good for a cinnamon roll pancake breakfast whenever you want it, day or night.” The cartoony pancakes I’d drawn looked more like a stack of tan hockey pucks.

He exclaimed, “This is so cute!”

“There are, um, adult ones toward the back. The kids obviously didn’t see those. I made them at home while you were at work.”

He flipped to the back and chuckled at a coupon good for “sixty-nine, any time.” It featured two unicorn stickers, one upside down and positioned on top of the other. “That’s hilarious,” he said.

“The most important one is last,” I muttered, embarrassed at the massive level of sappiness that had compelled me to make the final coupon. It had a hand-drawn red heart on it, shot through with an arrow, and it said, “The bearer of this coupon owns my heart. Always.”