Firefly Mountain (44 page)
Gini picked up the two bowls along with her copy of the calendar and carried everything out to the swing. In the pool of light spilling from the back porch, Patrick gently rocked the swing back and forth. Midas and Whisper were in the grass at his feet, and Saber darted through the darkness toward them. Gini handed Patrick one of the grapefruit halves.
“Thanks,” he said.
“I figured some fruit would help us replace the energy we used.” Thinking about making love with Patrick had Gini’s heart galloping in her chest all over again.
“Something tells me we’re going to be eating a great deal of fruit.” Patrick ran a finger down Gini’s forearm, and her entire body buzzed at the caress.
“Fine by me.”
Patrick leaned closer and brushed his lips over Gini’s. Though they’d just had amazing sex—like cosmic, wobbling-planets-off-their-axis sex—Gini felt she could go another round or two…or ten. She didn’t think she’d ever tire of Patrick’s touch, his kiss, his ability to make her feel freaking incredible.
He was an answer to her prayers, a wish come true, a gift. A miracle that left her breathless.
****
Breathless. Looking at Gini under the moonlight stole his breath away. Everything was better with her beside him. The night air smelled sharper, as if someone had buried Patrick in wildflowers. The cricket song sounded happier, as if even the insects knew the night was special. Even the grapefruit—normally no match for his beloved blueberries—tasted like fruit from Eden. All because of Gini.
“Sign mine?” Gini held out her calendar.
Patrick set his bowl on the swing beside him and took the calendar.
“Hang on a minute,” Gini said. “I forgot a pen.” She popped up and jogged back to the house. She returned to the swing with her gigantic purse and opened it on her lap. “I have a pen in here somewhere.” She buried her hand in the purse up to her elbow.
Patrick opened his mouth, but Gini stopped him with a finger to his lips.
“If I don’t find it in a minute’s time, you can say your wisecrack.”
“Fair enough.” Patrick pressed a button on his watch, and its screen lit up blue. “One minute. Go.”
Gini grumbled, but intensified her search in the purse.
“Forty seconds.” Patrick slid his hand to Gini’s neck then up into her hair.
“No distracting. That’s cheating.” Gini wiggled to the edge of the swing and continued her hunt.
“Twenty seconds…”
God, she’s adorable foraging around like a squirrel.
“Here it is!” Gini held up the pen as if it were an Olympic gold medal.
“With seconds to spare,” Patrick said. “Well done.”
He took the pen and opened the calendar to July. He wrote over the boxes in large print, then stared at the words, shocked he had written them. He who had resigned to being along forever. But it felt right. The words looked right, and he wanted what they said. He closed the calendar before Gini could peek and held the pen over her open purse.
“Good luck, brave pen.” He made a faint screaming sound as the pen dropped into the bottomless pit of random, but apparently necessary, items.
Gini elbowed him. “Shush, you. Everything I need in life is in this purse.”
“You’d better get a bigger purse then,” Patrick said.
“Why?” Gini looked up, meeting his gaze.
“Because I want to be something you need in life, Gini.” Patrick opened the calendar and angled it toward her.
“Marry me,” Gini read aloud where he’d written on the calendar. Her eyes widened, as did her smile, and Patrick held his breath. “Oh, Patrick!”
She launched herself onto him as her purse fell to the ground. Its contents thudded to the grass as she hopped into his lap and kissed him until he could barely remember his name.
He pushed her back slightly to see her face. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Gini punctuated each yes with a kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
As they enjoyed another round of memory-erasing kissing, a loud meow sounded from the grass.
“That wasn’t Saber.” Gini climbed off Patrick’s lap.
“No,” Patrick said. “It was Whisper.” He slid off the swing and got to his knees in front of the kitten. She meowed again and when Patrick picked her up, a dot of light flew out from under her paws.
“She caught a firefly,” Gini said with a laugh.
Patrick brought Whisper to the swing and sat. “So did I.”
He slipped his arm around Gini’s shoulders and pulled her close. She fit there perfectly as if she had been made especially for him.
Perhaps she had, and now they would share a lifetime together.
By day, Christine DePetrillo teaches and inspires young writers. By night, she writes, writes, and writes. She loves hanging out with her characters and watching their tales unfold.
Her stories are meant to make you laugh, maybe make you sweat, and definitely make you believe in the magic of love.
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