Taking Turns (Turning #1)(109)

“Those are all good gifts, Smith,” I say, squeezing his hand. “But a present is something different. A present is something you don’t need, but want. So open it.”

I catch him grinning that one-sided dimpled smile as he reaches for the white ribbon and pulls the bow apart. He lifts the lid off the box and stares at what’s inside. “What?” He laughs.

“I took a big risk with this. Don’t laugh.”

“What is this?” he says, taking the papers out of the envelope to hold them up to the light. “We’re going to Finland?”

“I like the way you say we, Mr. Baldwin.”

He looks through the itinerary. “What did you do?” he asks, shaking his head.

“Your dream. Remember? That first night. A puppy and a trip to the Arctic to see the Northern Lights. We have to wait on the puppy. I didn’t think it was fair to choose your puppy for you.”

“We?”

I bite my lip and smile as I pick up my box and take the lid off. He looks inside and laughs. Loud. He holds up the linen napkin and reads it. “Us.”

“I put us in the box, Mr. Baldwin. So if you really want to be true to your word, you will get on that plane with me tomorrow afternoon and fifteen hours later we’ll be lounging on a big bed, in a glass igloo, somewhere near Helsinki, in a town I can’t pronounce or spell, looking up at the Northern Lights. Or… at least one of us will. I guess it depends on who takes the bottom.”

He shakes his head, smiling so big, I see a whole different person underneath.

“I already told Lucinda I’m not a missionary kind of girl, so—”

“Hey,” he says, his fingers coming up to take my face and turn it towards him. He kisses me, soft and sweet. “There’s always reverse cowgirl.”

“I missed you this week.” I whisper in his mouth.

“I won’t let it happen again. From now on, I get you every night. Every day and every night.”

“Which brings me back to the other thing I put in the box.”

“There’s more?” he asks. “Are you getting greedy, Miss Walcott?”

“Yes,” I say, kissing him again. “So very, very greedy. I think we need more greed in our lives, Smith Baldwin. I think we’re done giving to others for a little bit. Nine days and ten nights, to be exact. So let’s throw caution to the wind.” I reach in to the box, pull out a little notebook and hold it up.

“The Rules,” he says, reading the cover. “You have rules?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I say. “Open it up and read them.”

He opens it and chuckles. “There are no rules.”

“That’s right,” I say. “There are no rules.”





Epilogue - Bric




The year has flown by and today is the first day of my summer vacation. We close the Club for the summer. Starting June first, I am a free man until the Labor Day weekend party.

I like June first. It’s empty here. Everything is covered with white sheets to keep the dust at bay and the only bar with booze is Smith’s.

Which really isn’t Smith’s anymore, since he moved out in January. Every once in a while, he brings Chella to the White Room for dinner. But only Monday through Thursday. He’s not even a member anymore, so it’s public days only for them.

The Club phone rings down at the valet station. I ignore it and take another sip of brandy. I’m heading to the airport in about twenty minutes. A long trip around the world. Ten countries, two full months of travel. And a new girl I found a few months ago. She’s nothing special, they never are. But everyone needs company when they go out in public.

The ringing stops and I lean back in my chair, going through the year in my head.

It’s been a good year so far. Quin doesn’t talk to me much. But he’s still a member. We decided not to get another girl since Smith was out. The threesome thing—it’s just not the same as a quad.

Besides, he’s still pretty pissed at me. We looked for Rochelle but there was no trace. And I did my best with Lucinda. Either she doesn’t know where she went, or she’s never saying. They’re traveling too. So Quin and I decided to drop it until Lucinda gets back in September. Maybe we’ll give it another try then. Maybe we won’t.

I’m hoping for won’t.

I finish my drink and set the glass in the sink, then hop down the stairs to the front of the lobby, so I can turn around and look up.

I always do this before I leave for the summer.

I love this Club.

The phone rings again, and since I’m standing near the valet desk, I reach over and pick it up. “Turning Point, how can I help you?”

Silence.

“Hello?” I ask.

There’s a shuffling noise and then some heavy breathing.

“OK, perverts. Give it a rest, will ya? You’re creeping out my wait staff.” We’ve been getting these prank calls for weeks now, and I’m tired of it.

I’m just about to hang up when I hear a voice.

“Bric?”

I bring the phone back to my ear. “Rochelle?” Silence. “Rochelle? Is that you?”

And then I hear a baby cry.

“Rochelle?” I ask, more insistent. “Rochelle, talk to me. Is that you? Are you OK?”