Sex, Not Love

I handed Hunter the paperwork the store had given me. The top page was the bill of sale. It listed all the relevant information, including the bird’s name, sex, breed, his sire and dam, and…the bird’s date of birth.

I waited for the reaction as Hunter’s eyes perused the document. When his eyes went wide, I knew he’d read the date of birth.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” Our new boy had been born the same day as Hunter’s brother.

“You know that’s Jayce’s birthday.”

“Yep. I’d say this foul-mouthed bird was meant to be with us, wouldn’t you?”

After Hunter thanked me for his gift—and tried to feel me up in the process—he told me to wait in the living room because he had a little something for me, too.

He handed me a black box with a silver bow. Arnold was perched on his shoulder. I got the feeling he would be spending a lot of time there.

“It’s not nearly as awesome as Arnold, but this is for you.”

I slipped off the bow and opened the box. My eyes flared. “Is this?”

Hunter flashed an impish grin. “It is.”

I lifted the blue familiar garter out of the box. It was the one he’d caught at Anna and Derek’s wedding and put on my leg after I’d caught the bouquet. “I asked twice if you knew what happened to this, and you said no.”

“I know. I lied. Something just told me I needed to keep it. I think deep down I knew I’d be taking it off your leg someday when I made you my wife. And even though I thought forever was impossible at the time, I held onto that thing like hope I refused to give up.”

“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said.” I reached out and linked my fingers with his.

Of course, he used the connection to yank me against him. “Oh yeah? Does that buy me admission to your pants now?”

***

I married Hunter Delucia at dusk in a small ceremony in our backyard with our families and friends watching. I’d put tea light candles in all of the birdhouses that hung in the tree we stood beneath. It made it feel like his mother and brother were watching over us from above.

We’d found true love and health and were happy beyond what either of us could have ever imagined. When the minister said he could kiss the bride, my teary-eyed husband cupped my cheeks.

“I love you, Natalia Delucia. You’ve showed me what living means, and my heart will always be yours.”

His lips came down on mine before I could reciprocate the sentiment. But he knew. He knew.

I used to think Hunter Delucia had stolen a piece of my heart. But I was wrong. Because eventually, even the heart stops beating. This man stole a piece of my soul—because the soul lives forever, and so will my love for this beautiful man.

THE END