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“My poet is back.” She clutched her hands to her chest like a Disney princess.
I stroked her hair, our gazes locked and said, “I could drown in your eyes,” and meant it.
She had no snarky comeback for that one.
“I’m not inside of you, but a part me never left you,” I continued relentlessly, addicted to the way my words were mesmerizing her. “I can feel you in every one of my cells, a permanent connection.”
No witty retort for that one either.
“You’re my best friend,” I added.
Her soul devouring eyes were taking no prisoners, but still not a word.
“Sometimes when I look at you, my chest aches a bit,” I told her. “It’s not altogether pleasant, but it feels necessary.”
No smooth rejoinder there.
I tried to make my voice wary, a little sarcastic. I had to ruin this moment or it would own me forever. “See? I’m a writer. I can do a bit of poetry on command.”
That snapped us both out of it, thank God.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I MENTIONED IN our routine morning briefing that I wanted to invite Dair, Iris, and the gang over for a pool party.
She looked a bit surprised.
“One of your random hookup parties?”
I was startled by her assumption and frankly a bit horrified. What did she think this was? That I’d casually be looking for other women to hook up with? “Not at all. No single women allowed, in fact. A party for close friends. For Dair’s family, and I suppose Heath and Lourdes, and maybe Frankie and Estella.
“Okay, make a guest list, let me know if you have any specific ideas for it, and I’ll put it all together.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.”
Uncannily though, Dair called me that afternoon and invited me over to their house for a BBQ that weekend.
“Be sure to bring Ro,” he told me.
“Obviously,” I replied absently, looking around. “Listen, whose idea was the barbecue?”
“Iris brought it up this morning. Why?”
“We were just talking about doing the same thing this morning. Does your Russian doll wife have my house bugged?”
Dair laughed like that was the funniest thing ever, but it was a fact that Iris had done crazier things.
It was quite the gathering.
Frankie and Estella couldn’t make it. They were shooting an episode of their tattoo reality show in Bora Bora for no reason I could fathom other than the fact that Frankie loved Bora Bora and wanted her producers to pay for the trip.
Even without Frankie present, though, her ability to bring people together was.
Iris was good at making friends and their circle had naturally expanded to include some of Frankie’s close friends. And Frankie, being somewhat famous, had a few famous friends, as well, some that Ro even recognized.
I’d met them all a few times, but I didn’t know most of them well. I’d just never had that much room for blissfully happy married couples in my life. Dair, being my idol, was the exception, and Heath by extension.
It was a fun group, though, and it was fun to show and then introduce them all to a somewhat star struck Ro. Anything that could ruffle her tickled me as a rule.
