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14 - When You Don't Know What To Say

"Mmm, I missed your lips," I told Ben when he released me from our kiss, which made said lips quirk up in such a cute little half-smile I was tempted to head back in for seconds.

"What about that new boyfriend of yours?" he teased, the half-smile threatening to turn into a full-on grin. I gave a melodramatic sigh.

"Turns out he's a terrorist and sure, one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter, but really..." He stole the rest of my sentence away with the touch of those yummy lips to mine. Not that I minded. In fact, I moved my arms from around his middle up to his shoulders to pull him closer, regretting the fact I hadn't put my heels on yet so am a good seven inches shorter.

"You've been watching my interviews."

"I have indeed, Mr Cumberbatch."

"How did I do?"

"'Charming, debonair and witty.'"

He quirked an eyebrow at me and gave a slightly goofy look of scepticism. "That sounds like a quote from somewhere; what did you think?"

Busted. "I thought you were sweet and funny and handled them well. I was proud of you."

"Thank you." The compliment earned me another kiss. "I have something for you." He let me go and turned to pick up a large brown paper bag I hadn't even noticed he'd brought with him. I took his empty hand and pulled him toward the couch, sitting beside him as he smiled at me and delved into the bag to produce a navy baseball cap with the letters NY embroidered in white on the front.

"A Yankees cap! Thank you so much, I love it." I put it on straight away, pulling my ponytail through at the back and sitting it low over my forehead. "How does it look? No, wait!" Racing over to where my handbag sat on the kitchen counter I dug around for a bit, took off my regular glasses and put my sunnies on then turned to show him. "Am I the cool kid on the block or what?" He returned my wide grin as I sauntered jauntily over to him and plopped myself on his lap, putting my arms around his neck. "Thank you for remembering."

"You're welcome," he murmured, kissing me again. "I have something else too." This time he pulled a shirt out of the bag and I gasped; it was the iconic white and navy stripe Yankees home game jersey. "I wasn't sure if you'd like it..."

"Are you kidding me?" I interrupted him, wobbling and almost falling off his lap in my excitement as I take it in my hands.

"I had no idea you're such a baseball fan," he grinned again at my enthusiasm.

"Nonno loves it; I used to watch it on TV with him every week from ever since I can remember." I held the jersey up against myself to judge the sizing then stood and removed the cap, sunnies and my t-shirt before slipping it over my head. It's a good fit though fairly long on me, coming down to the tops of my thighs. The fabric feels crisp and new on my skin, which I knew would soften with a couple of washes.

"There's one more gift," Ben said softly and I looked at him.

"Ben, no, you've given me two wonderful gifts already. Save it and give it to your parents."

"Can't," he replied with a mysterious smile, "it was tailor-made just for you."

In a pair of black trousers and deep green polo shirt that somehow accentuated his eyes, he looked good enough to eat, but it was the sweet expression on his face that made me melt. I could see that giving me gifts was bringing him real pleasure and although I was already a little embarrassed at how generous he had been, there is no way I could refuse. I rescued my specs and sat beside him as he placed in my hands a zippered carrycase, rectangular in shape, smaller than a breadbox but larger than an iPad mini.