Noah smiled, trying hard to conceal the fact that having pleased her with something as simple as picking the right creamer made him feel damn good. "I thought it fit the occasion."
"I also saw the champagne in the fridge. How'd you manage that? Didn't they card you?"
Taking an annoyed deep breath, he walked into the kitchen. The smell of her freshly shampooed hair, with a touch of something else—very subtle perfume maybe— overwhelmed his senses as he walked by her. He almost forgot about the irritating question. He'd had a fake I.D. for over a year now, not that he got carded too often. Like this morning, the clerk glanced up at him and just asked him for his birthday. He gave it to her with the fake year, and she just punched it in.
"I also got beer, and, no, they didn't card me." As s
