That’s what those lean arms represent. My mouth tingles with the need to lick his bare skin, and I mentally shake myself. We just had sex! If I don’t come to my senses soon, I’m going to be spending the rest of my time in Tokyo rolling around in bed with Griffin instead of seeing the city. And as tempting as more orgasms are, we can always have sex after our tour today. And when we’re back in the States.
He turns off the TV and holds out a hand. “Ready?”
“Yep.” I thread my fingers through his and squeeze with all the affection I’m feeling for him. “So where are we going?”
“Whatever we feel like. But we need to be at the Skytree by seven.”
Excitement blasts through me. “We’re going there today?”
“You said you wanted to go, so I made a dinner reservation. Thought you’d enjoy the view and the food.”
“Yes!” I say, flushed with joyful anticipation. I’m touched and amazed he’s remembered everything I said I wanted and liked and then made it happen. I’ve never been in a relationship like this. Even though we started as a kind of sham, it’s turned into something else. Especially when I can imagine myself with him years and years from now, still having fun and being happy.
We grab a couple of muffins and some coffee from the hotel café and leave. The blueberry muffin I picked isn’t even half the size of what I would normally get in Lovedale, but it’s soft and tasty, full of sweet fruit.
“The portions are so tiny,” I say, finishing the last bite. “No wonder everyone here is skinny.”
“Japan competes with the French to see who can serve the least amount of food and get away with it,” Griffin remarks. He demolished his muffin in four civilized bites.
“Seems to be working, though.”
“It does work. The Japanese and the French have some of the longest life spans on Earth.”
“No, I mean look how busy this place is.” Every table is taken, and people are waiting patiently in a long line for their coffee and pastries.
Griffin surveys the place and nods. “Anything you want to do in particular before our dinner reservation?”
“Yes. First, I want to buy some souvenirs for people I know, so I don’t forget before we leave.”
“What kind of souvenirs?”
“Not sure yet. It depends on what I can find.” I think about what Ellie, Heather and others like. “Maybe stationery? Hello Kitty pens or something?”
He considers for a second, then leads me out. We walk a few blocks to a huge department store called Mitsukoshi. “This place should have everything you want.”
The department store has the most adorable stationery and pens, along with an “Amazing Must-Have Items from Tokyo” section on the second floor. I buy cute washi tape and stickers for several ladies at Silicone Dream who like to decorate their planners. And a gorgeous pink and purple glass pen and ink set for Heather because she collects glass figurines and objects. A huge display full of intricately carved, flat wood squares and circles catches my eye, and I study them.
“What are they?” I ask. They’re decorative, but I don’t think it’s something you stick to your windows or fridge doors. The display is in Japanese only.
“Coasters,” Griffin says.
“Coasters? Like you put drinks on them?”
He nods.
“Aren’t they too pretty to be used as coasters?” They are artsy. Many of them have themes from nature. Some feature animals, including cats. Unfortunately, I’m not seeing any with dogs. But there is a set of five with peacocks in different poses, and Ellie would absolutely love them.
I reach another aisle full of ribbons and colorful silk flowers and so on with sticky pads on the back. I squint, unsure what they’re for—do Japanese people like to stick flowers on their walls?—until I realize they’re to be place on wrapped gifts as decorative elements. A few examples of how gorgeous a present can look if you use those flowers are set up at the end of the aisle.
“They’re kidding, right?” The boxes are so beautifully wrapped that it seems like a crime to open them. “I could buy all the stickers in the store, and I still wouldn’t be able to create what they did.”
A corner of Griffin’s mouth quirks up. “Maybe if you sign up for their training, you can.”
“Training? There’s a class?”
He nods. “Department store employees learn how to gift-wrap everything they sell.”
I look through a few more aisles. All sorts of items end up in my arms, including some interesting dog treats that look like traditional Japanese sweets. A bunch of people at Silicone Dream have dogs, and they’ll get a huge kick out of them. Once I can’t hold any more stuff, I decide I have something for everyone. I pay at the register, then sigh when I realize I haven’t planned well in my excitement.