A Perfect Storm
Page 95

 Lori Foster

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She didn’t want to be the spoilsport, not when they were all relaxed and comfortable.
“Thank you all so much. I don’t even know what to say about all the fuss and—”
Chris stood. “You’re not done yet.” He unearthed one more gift from beneath the piles of wrapping paper. “You still need to open my present to you.”
“Another gift?” Never in her life had she been given so much. “I’m speechless.” Unnerved by all the attention, Arizona opened the gift—and stared in disbelief. She almost forgot to breathe.
Grinning like a sinner, Chris said, “Well?”
“Oh, my God.” She wheezed in air, and each word she spoke rose higher and higher. “Are you freaking kidding me?” She lifted out the heavy knife, the same one she’d been saving for, and hefted it in her palm. “Oh, my God, Chris, it’s awesome!”
Silence fell around the table.
Neither she nor Chris cared.
“You like it?” Chris asked.
“Are you serious? Look at that blade! Look at the anodized titanium handles, the double thumb openers.” She turned it this way and that. “What’s not to like?”
“Glad to hear it.”
Dumbfounded, moved by emotion, she shook her head. “How did you know?”
“I listen. I heard you talk about it.” He gave a telling look to the others. “And I knew it’d make you happy.” He bent to see her face. “At least, I hope it did.”
Over the moon with incredulous joy, she carefully set the knife back in the box.
“Arizona?”
She threw herself against Chris’s chest and felt his arms come around her. Fighting off tears wasn’t easy.
She loved the gifts, all of them, but that knife…it was as if Chris actually knew her, really knew her—and liked her anyway.
He chuckled at her tight hold. “I take it it’s the right one?”
“I was saving for it!”
“Now you can spend your money on something else.”
She hugged him so fiercely that he groaned and pretended to collapse, so she levered back and grabbed his face. Despite his look of surprise at her intent, she planted a big, five-second smooching kiss right on his handsome mouth, ending with a loud, “Mmmwwah!”
“Whoa,” Chris said once she freed him. “Try that with any other guy and you’d probably find yourself hauled off to bed.”
“No other guy could be you.” Joy clogged her throat. “You’re amazing, Chris. Just…amazing.”
“Like the knife?”
“Yes, amazing like the knife.” Arizona released him to beam at the others.
Jackson stared. Trace cleared his throat. Dare rubbed his mouth. The women watched wide-eyed.
But so what? For once, she didn’t give a damn what any of them thought.
And then she saw Spencer’s dark expression. So he didn’t like her kissing Chris?
Or was it the knife he didn’t like?
Well, tough titty. She didn’t care what he thought, either. “It’s the knife,” she told him. “The one I told you I was saving for. I showed it to you in a magazine, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
Chris paid no more attention to his disapproval than she did. “There’s a sheath to go with it, but I didn’t get that. Sorry.”
“I have one that’ll do.” She reached back, realized she’d left the knife at home, and shrugged. “I left it at Spencer’s, but really, this is already too much. Too extravagant, too—”
“I can afford it,” Chris told her, sounding serious for the first time. “And you deserve it.”
Why she would deserve such a gift, she couldn’t imagine. But then, she knew she didn’t deserve any of it.
Yet here she was, in the middle of her very first birthday party, surrounded by gifts.
Any second now, the dampness filling her eyes would fall. She held the knife to her chest, a cherished gift. “Thank you. Everyone. Seriously. It’s all great. I’m just…” Overwhelmed, she let out a shaky breath. “I’m floored. I never expected…”
They smiled at her.
Crap. One more second of their kindness, and she’d be a goner. “Yeah, so, thanks. Again. A lot.” Her throat felt tighter. “So…I’m going to take this stuff to Spencer’s truck. You know, to make sure nothing happens to any of it.”
Feeling like the biggest coward alive, she turned and literally ran so fast that Tai and Sargie perked up. Excited by a possible game, the dogs chased after her.
Arizona knew she’d have to return, and very soon, otherwise they’d all come looking for her. But God willing, she’d get her emotions under control before then.
She’d rather be thrown into another river than let everyone see her weeping like a girl.
* * *
HARRY’S HOCKS HAD SHUT down weeks ago, but that only made it cheap to rent.
For a few hours.
He needed no more time than that.
After she’d been made…suitably pliable, he’d move her. He’d get her settled in, and he’d enjoy her at his leisure.
Thinking about it, imagining how she’d be, how he’d make her be, he rubbed his hands together. She might not be grateful at first, but eventually she’d be thanking him, maybe even begging him.
He laughed with pleasure at that image. Once he explained to her how he’d saved her, taking her from a worse situation, accepting her when no one else would want her, then she’d show proper gratitude. Now, with him, she wouldn’t be sold.