Page 101 of Baker

“Is it?”

He shrugged. “Open it.”

I lifted the edge of the top and peered inside. Upon seeing the shoes, I flipped the top to the side and pulled them out.

“A pair of Louboutin’s,” I said. “I’m in love.”

I stood up and slipped the shoes on my feet.

He looked at them and smiled. “Fit?”

“Perfect,” I said.

The black heels with the signature red bottoms were a staple in the closets of the rich and famous. They weren’t anything I could ever afford, but I’d surely wear them on special occasions.

Giddy, I sat down and admired them.

He cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

I looked up. “Oh. The big red one.”

He pulled off the bow, peeled off the paper, and opened the box. Immediately, he laughed out loud. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I love it when you wear hats.”

Carefully, he removed the felt porkpie, and lifted it to his head. The black hat looked sexy on his head, and gave him a distinguished look.

“I like it.”

He tipped it toward me. “As do I.”

He pointed to a little blue box. “I think that one next. This is going to be weird in a minute.”

“Why?”

“Just open it.”

After carefully unwrapping the three-inch square box, I peeled back the top. Inside, a key to his car.

“My own key?” I asked, lifting it from the box. “In case I want to go racing?”

“You own car,” he said. “There’s another one on there, too. It’s a key to this house.”

My heart went aflutter. “It says Por-Shah,” I said, pronouncing it the way he had when we met. “Are you serious?”

“It’s not just like mine, but it’s close.”

“It’s mine?”

“Registration and title are in the bedroom. It’s yours.”

“Holy crap. Oh. My God. I have a car.” I jumped to my feet. “When can I see it?”

He smiled. “In a few minutes. When we’re done.”

I kissed him and sat. I pointing to his last box. “Last one.”

He opened it and lifted the book from the box and read the cover. “Thug Kitchen: Eat Like You Give a Fuck”