Saving Wishes

Saving Wishes Part 7

15. Surprise

Time alone with Adam was the thing I craved most. More than sunshine, clear skies and food, as it turned out.

"You're not hungry?" he asked, watching me from the opposite side of the dining table.

"Not really," I admitted, placing my fork on my plate.

Gabrielle was like Jekyll and Hyde. One minute she was holding me against my will in her dreadful French class, and the next she was making sure there was dinner in the fridge for us.

"So if we're not going to waste time eating, maybe we could use this time together a little more productively," he suggested, flashing me an errant grin.

"Did you have something in mind?"

The calculating look on his face told me he did. He made enough room for me to sit on his lap. I twisted one of the buttons on his shirt – which is where I kept my focus, avoiding his eyes.

"We could work on the boat," he suggested.

The way he held me tighter when I tried to stand up made me think he seriously considered scraping paint off a boat a good way to spend a night alone.

"No," I said crossly.

I struggled harder against his grip and he released me immediately. I put some distance between us. Adam remained seated, a bulletproof look on his face, obviously plotting his next move.

"Just for an hour or two," he pleaded, unsuccessfully trying to conceal his smile.

"You're crazy. It's dark and cold, and that's a stupid way to spend our night together." I waved vaguely at the black windows.

"I have a surprise for you," he admitted.

"What? A new power sander?"

"No," he murmured. "The one Alex lent me works just fine."

"So, what is it?"

"You'll see," he replied, giving nothing away.

He stood and pulled me to him, and as his lips melted on to mine I closed my eyes, concentrating on nothing other than remembering how to breathe. I felt too weakened by his touch to speak. I didn't even notice when he stepped away to grab our coats. By the time I opened my eyes he had his on and was holding mine out. The metal press-studs snapped loudly as he buttoned my coat all the way up to my neck, as if I was five years old.

"I don't want you to be cold," he explained, grinning craftily. "Okay. Ready?"

"No."

"I'll make a deal with you." His tone was sweet but the look on his face convinced me he was still scheming.

"No deals."

"I'll go surfing with you in the morning if you come out to the shed with me tonight."

I saw no lack of honesty in his eyes. He'd made no secret of his acute dislike of the ocean – the thought of swimming in it at least.

"Really?"

"You have my word, Charlotte." He placed his hand on his heart.

"Fine," I surrendered. "Let's get this over with." He picked the throw rug off the couch on our way out.

His surprise had nothing to do with the boat. He slid the huge shed door open and the fluorescent light flickered a few times before settling, casting enough light for me to see that the boat looked exactly as it had the last time I'd seen it.