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It had to be the right one. If she had to stand here
all day and look at every one of them, she'd do it until she found "the
one".
Catherine Ryan returned the birthday card to the
display rack and chose another one. Picking the right birthday card for
her sister Anita always took time. Actually, picking the right cards
took time because Catherine always bought two--a serious one and a funny
one. She treasured her relationship with her sister, and it was important
to her that the cards express how much Anita meant to her.
Ten cards later, Catherine found it. The picture on
the front--a crystal vase filled with pink roses--was exactly the type of
picture Anita would love. The caption said a simple, "Happy Birthday to My
Sister." Hopefully, it didn't have one of those long, sappy verses inside
the card. Catherine preferred something short and to the point, but she
still wanted it to convey how she felt.
The sentiment inside the card brought a lump to
Catherine's throat and tears to her eyes.
I wish I had the words to tell you how special
you are to me. If I could choose anyone in the world to be my sister, it
would be you. Happy birthday to my sister, and my best friend.
"Perfect," Catherine whispered.
Now, to find a funny one...and maybe just a bit
naughty.
Finding a funny one didn't take nearly as long as
finding a serious one. The picture of a sweet kitten on the front,
combined with a raunchy verse inside, would make Anita laugh out loud.
Smiling, Catherine clutched both cards in her hand and turned to make her
way to the register.
A flash of purple caught her eye. A flash of purple
always caught her eye for that was her favorite color. She could
see just the top of a card on the bottom shelf of the display rack, hidden
behind several other cards. Catherine frowned. She'd already looked at
that row and she hadn't seen this card. There was no way she
would've missed a purple card.
Unable to resist, she touched the part of the card
that she could see. She felt...something. She didn't know how to describe
it, but something electric, almost shocking, passed through her fingers.
Taking the card between her thumb and forefinger,
Catherine slowly drew it out of the slot. The front was a deep, solid
eggplant color with the words "Happy Birthday" in a flowing silver script
scrawled across the front. There was nothing special about the card--no
beautiful picture, no romantic saying, nothing that should draw her so
intently to it, yet she felt compelled to look at it. Her fingers
trembling, she opened the card, peered inside...and gasped.
It was him. Him. Her fantasy man. The man who
filled her dreams at night, and her mind by day. The man she imagined in
her life, in her bed, in her body.
She stared at the picture which took up the entire
inside of the card. He reclined among rumpled white satin sheets, his
torso propped up on several pillows. His handsome face was fan, with the
beginning of a five-o'clock shadow covering his cheeks and chin. His deep
brown eyes were half closed, a hint of a grin turned up the corners of his
mouth. A corner of a sheet draped over his groin, but she could still see
his bare hip. One arm was folded under his head, showing her his
impressive biceps. Long, dark brown hair spread over the pillow. That same
dark hair generously spread over his chest and tapered down his stomach
until it disappeared beneath the sheet. Tanned legs, lightly sprinkled
with dark hair, peeked out the other end of the sheet. His body was
muscled in all the right places...not the muscles of a bodybuilder, but of
a strong, healthy man.
The bulge in the sheet indicated that he didn't lack
anything in that department.
"Do you need some help?" a feminine voice asked.
Catherine jumped and quickly closed the card. Her
cheeks heated and her palms began to sweat as she turned to face the
clerk. "Uh, no, I'm fine."
"Did you find everything you need?"
"Yes, yes, I did. I found the perfect cards for my
sister. Her birthday is next week. She'd turning thirty-five and I'm
having a wonderful time teasing her about it." Catherine knew she was
rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop. She didn't think she'd ever been
so embarrassed in her life. Getting caught drooling at a picture on a card
was mortifying.
The clerk tilted her head and peered at the cards in
Catherine's hands. "Oh, that's a pretty one," she said, tapping the card
with the roses on it. "Does your sister like roses?"
"Yes, she does, very much."
"We have some heavenly rose-scented potpourri and
candles that would go wonderful with that card."
Catherine realized the clerk was simply doing her
job, but she wished the girl would just leave so she could look at her
fantasy man again.
The clerk glanced down at Catherine's hands, and
frowned slightly. "What's that?"
Catherine clutched the cards a bit tighter. "What's
what?"
"That purple card. I don't remember that one."
"I, uh, I found it on the bottom row."
Without asking, the clerk slipped the card from
Catherine's grasp. Losing the card made Catherine feel as if she'd just
lost a friend. Her chest actually hurt.
"I restocked that row this morning. I've never seen
this card." She turned it over and looked at the back. "It has our
imprint, but I swear I've never seen it. How strange."
Trying not to seem rude, Catherine plucked the card
out of the clerk's hand. "Well, you have so many, you probably just forgot
this one."
"I guess."
The clerk didn't look convinced, but Catherine
wasn't about to let go of her prize again. She put her hand with the cards
behind her back. "I'm ready to check out please. And I'll take a bag of
the rose potpourri and a dozen votives too."
The clerk smiled, obviously forgetting about the
card with a larger sale on the horizon. "Wonderful. I'll get them for you
and meet you at the register."
* * * * *
Catherine opened the card, laid it on the kitchen
table, and stared at the picture one more time. She'd been looking at it
most of the evening. She couldn't get over how much this man looked like
the man of her dreams. It was as if someone had gone inside her head,
taken the mental picture she carried, and copied it on this card. Even the
sentiment written in small letters at the bottom gave her goose bumps.
May all your dreams come true.
This was just too weird.
She touched his hair with one fingertip. She loved
long hair on a man, especially dark brown hair like this. So much of it
lay across the pillow, it had to be past his shoulders in length. Her
fingertip traveled farther...over his arms, across his chest, down his
stomach, stopping at the top of the sheet. She skipped over the enticing
bulge at his groin and let her fingertip glide down his legs. The picture
stopped at his knees, but she imagined his calves and feet were every bit
as gorgeous as the rest of him.
The bulge beneath the sheet drew her attention once
more. Peering around her kitchen first to make sure no one could see her,
she touched that bulge with the barest tip of her finger. She drew a
circle on it, over and over, wishing it could really be him she was
touching. It had been so long since she'd touched a man, or had a man
touch her...
Catherine snatched her hand away from the card as if
it had suddenly turned into a hungry rattlesnake. Get a grip, Cat. It's
just a picture. He isn't real. He'll never be real.
Disgusted with herself for her foolish action,
Catherine rose and crossed the room to the refrigerator for something to
drink. She took out a Pepsi, popped the top, and took a large drink.
Despite her central air conditioning, she still felt warm and sticky. The
weather had been so hot already, and it wasn't even the end of April.
Summers in North Texas could be brutal, and it looked like this one would
be every bit as hot as usual.
Her gaze wandered around the kitchen as she took
another drink. She loved her house, and had worked so hard to make it
truly hers. After her bum of a husband walked out on her, Catherine
poured her heartache and anger into redecorating the small, two-bedroom
house in the suburbs of Fort Worth. She'd done most of the work herself,
hiring only those services done that she did not know how to do. She'd
mixed cool pastels with deep jewel tones, creating a color scheme that
made her feel proud of her accomplishments.
If only it would help her feel less lonely.
The card drew her attention once again. Catherine
put her half-empty can in the refrigerator before wandering back to the
table. She touched the face in the picture, rubbing her thumb across the
handsome man's cheek.
"I wish you were real," she whispered.
With a final sigh, Catherine turned off the light
and left the kitchen.
* * * * *
He rose through a thick fog until he stood on shaky
legs. Finally, the woman he was destined to be with had found him. He'd
lost all track of time during his imprisonment, so didn't know how long
he'd waited...months, years, decades, centuries?
Stretching to loosen tight muscles, he looked around
the room. He didn't recognize many of the items surrounding him, yet that
didn't surprise him. Things had to have changed in the time while he
waited for her. He'd catch up on everything, learn everything he had to
know, with her.
Thinking of the things he wanted to do first with
her caused the blood to rush to his cock. She'd dreamed of him for a long,
long time. It was time he made those dreams come true.
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