Page 19
Without her, my leg remembers it exists and prickles violently. My face contorts, and I hiss a curse. Grunting, I mutter, “Who said you could get up?”
“But—”
I blow a breath out between my teeth and glare at my angel.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, horrified, like these past few days of blissful reciprocated feelings are going to come undone at any moment.
“It’s unlike you to be so apologetic all the time. Where’s the Dece who strip-teased me in a mattress store?”
She flushes, hiding behind the rest of her sandwich and nibbling guiltily. “I don’t remember doing anything like th…”
“You took your skirt off.”
Her eyes widen and skitter away.
“In public.”
“I was wearing shorts underneath,” she protests, weakly. “I’m always wearing shorts underneath.”
“Uh-huh.” Amid the pain in my leg, I reach for her, grabbing her wrist again. “Gimme another bite.”
Without question, she holds the sandwich to my mouth, letting me chew through the tingling pricks dancing up and down my thigh. Once they begin to subside, I exhale. “I’m not used to you being so careful with me.”
Her gaze lowers to the rest of the sandwich, tracing the shape of my mouth in it. Slowly, she fits her lips to the exact mark mine left behind and takes her next bite. “I…know. I’m nervous. I’ve spent a lot of time hoping for this. Now that it’s happened, it feels too good to be true. Like it might shatter at any moment unless I’m careful and make sure you know that after years of messing around, I’m dead serious about how I feel about you.” Her dear little eyes fix on me. “Also, Daddy says that men appreciate it when their wives don’t cause trouble.”
The feeling in my leg returns as that acidic remark gnaws into my head. “Are you testing me or something, Dece?”
Her lashes flutter as her lip pouts.
I heave a breath. “Yeah, I like it when you’re a good girl, but I also like it when you aren’t. There’s not a—” I swear. “—thing that’s gonna make me change my mind about loving or wanting you, so try not to bring your parents’—” I cuss. “—crap beliefs into what we’re gonna build unless you actually like their ideas.”
She finishes her sandwich and folds the paper into a perfect square. “I don’t dislike the idea of being a good girl for you, Wynn-Wynn.”
And…she’s messing with me. Thank everything. “You don’t, huh?”
Softly, she smiles, and I sigh, opening my arms. “In that case, you wanna make me numb again, sweetheart?”
Christmas blush coats her as she looks at her options. They are: sit on me, or sit elsewhere, far away from me altogether. Perusing the pitiful space left on the couch beyond what I take up while I’ve got my leg stretched out across it, she says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you why you don’t have bigger couches.”
“If I had a bigger couch, I’d be more inclined to pass out on it when I get home after a long day. Passing out filthy on a washable couch I bought specifically because all its covers are washable isn’t a habit I wanted to form. No matter how tired I am, I should shower and change and sleep in a bed, because a guy my size doesn’t need any more reasons for back pain, and no couch is gonna provide the support that would prevent it.”
Seductive, my sweet temptress turns, looking toward my bedroom hall. Before she can dare suggest we move there, though, her phone rings.
Color washes from her face when she looks down at the device abandoned on a cushion, and I catch sight of Mom on the caller ID when she retrieves it.
Locking my jaw, I say, “I’m not here.”
Tense, she nods, then answers. “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”
“Darling! Fantastic news!” her mother chirps through the line, voice piercing.
December reaches for me, and I hold her free hand. “Oh?” she murmurs, noncommittal, tone light and airy.
“We’ve found someone for you! He’ll be here tonight! Can you believe it? The second we accepted his request, he said he’d be making accommodations and flying in on his private jet!” The woman squeals. “Not even your father has one of those, Devina! You may very well be marrying above your class!”
My stomach bottoms out, and I crush my Dece’s hand as her navy eyes land on me, hopeless.
Fragile, she repeats, “Oh.”
