Wallbanger(112)

dodged his hands, almost slipping in a patch of crushed pecans, which I had crushed further in my circling. I had worn a path through the clutter.

I made one last pass, this time muttering, “Spanish fairy tale with prawns,” when I tripped over a muffin tin and fel into his arms.

He held me close, breathing me in, kissing my forehead. “Caroline, babe, you gotta tel me what’s going on. The mumbling? It’s cute and al ,

but we’re not real y getting anywhere.” He pressed his hands into the smal of my back, holding me in place. I pul ed away a little, resisting his

embrace, and looked him straight in the eyes.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Come on, sometimes guys know.”

“No, real y. How did you know?” I asked again.

He kissed my nose gently. “Because al of a sudden, you weren’t my Caroline.”

“I faked it because I haven’t had an orgasm in one thousand years,” I stated matter of factly.

“Come again?”

“I’m going across the hal to kick your door now,” I sighed, pul ing away and shuffling through the sugar.

“Wait, wait, wait, you what? You haven’t had a what?” He grabbed for my hand as I turned back to him, with everything out in the open now.

“An orgasm, Simon. An orgasm. The Big O, the climax, the happy ending. No orgasms. Not for this Nightie Girl. Cory Weinstein can give me a

five-percent discount whenever I want one, but in return, he took my O.” I sniffled, tears now coming to my eyes. “So you can go back to your harem.

I’l be entering the convent soon enough!” I cried, the dam final y breaking.

“Convent? What? Come here, please. Get your dramatic ass over here.” He pul ed me unwil ingly back to the kitchen and wrapped me in his

arms. He rocked me back and forth as I let out ridiculous sobs and wails.

“You’re so…so…great…and I can’t…I can’t…you’re so good…in…bed…and everywhere else…and I can’t…I can’t…God…you’re so hot…

when you came…so hot…and you came home…and I kil ed my brioche…and I…I…I think…I love you.”

Al stop. Breathe. What did I just say?

“Caroline, hey, stop crying, you gorgeous girl. Mind running that last part by me again?”

I’d just told Simon I loved him. While my snot soaked into his North Face. I breathed in his scent, then peeled myself off of him and headed to

the wal to peel off the dough stuck there. Nerves sprang to life, for once working for us. Could I cover? Could I ral y?

“Which part?” I asked the wal —and Clive, who had stopped playing with his nuts to listen in.

“That last part,” I heard him say, his voice strong and clear.

“I kil ed my brioche?” I hedged.

“You real y think that’s the part I’m asking about?”

“Um, no?”

“Try again.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Caroline—wait, what’s your middle name?”

“Elizabeth.”

“Caroline Elizabeth,” he warned, in a deep voice that unexpectedly made me giggle.

“Brioche is real y good, when it’s not flavored with wal ,” I blurted, my exhaustion mixing with my confession for an odd buzz. I actual y felt a little

relieved.

“Turn around, please,” he asked, and so I did. He leaned against the counter, unzipping his snotty North Face. “I’m a bit jetlagged, so a quick

recap, if I could. One, you seem to have lost your orgasm, yes?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, watching as he took off his fleece, throwing it over the back of one of my chairs.

“Two, brioche is real y hard to make, yes?”

“Yes,” I breathed, not able to take my gaze away from him. Underneath the North Face was a white button-down. Which was good enough on

its own, but couple that with the way he was slowly and methodical y rol ing up the sleeves? It was mesmerizing.

“And three, you think you love me?” he asked, his voice deep and thick, like molasses and honey and al things afghan—blanket, not country.

“Yes,” I whispered, knowing it was one hundred percent the truth. I loved Simon. Big, giant dur.

“You think, or you know?”

“I know.”

“Wel , now. That’s something to consider, isn’t it?” he replied, his eyes dancing as he drew near. “You real y have no idea, do you?” He spread

his hands along my col arbone, brushing his thumbs across the very tops of my breasts.

My breathing quickened, my body sparking to life in spite of myself. “No idea about what?” I murmured, al owing him to press me against the