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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Willow
I have the best time taking Rhett around the party and introducing him to everyone I know. Everyone I’m related to. I even introduce him to the twins who giggle and carry on and ask if Rhett is my boyfriend. He answers yes before I can respond, sending a thrill through me that has my heart beating extra hard.
It’s the perfect night. The air is cool but not too cold, and the moon shines its silvery glow down upon us. The food is delicious, and Summer and Whit hired a DJ, who’s playing a mixture of current hits and oldies that gets everyone—including the parents and grandparents—out on the dance floor. Even Linda the lip print reader is dancing, her hands in the air as she moves to the beat.
We catch Iris and Brooks kissing behind a massive planter that’s taller than Brooks, which is saying a lot. Brooks appears sheepish, his hands springing away from Iris’s waist when we come upon them, but Iris just grabs one of his hands and settles it right on her butt.
“They know we’re fucking around, Brooksie. We don’t need to hide,” she says with a smile, just before he kisses her again.
It’s kind of romantic, how she spoke to him. How he looked at her. As if the sun rises and sets on her pretty little head.
I want Rhett to look at me like that.
We eat some food and watch the twins cut their birthday cake. Their mom Carolina delivers sparklers to all of the girls’ friends and they wave them in the air, the music playing extra loud as slices of cake get passed out by the caterer’s staff.
“This party is like a freaking wedding,” Rhett says at one point when he’s handed a plate of cake. We find a table to sit at and he immediately digs in while I watch him. “You’re not going to have any?
I slowly shake my head. I’m too nervous to eat anything sweet, which is a shame because I absolutely adore cake with thick frosting on it. I’ve always had a sweet tooth. “I’m not hungry.”
“You’re watching me like you’re dying to snatch the fork from my fingers and steal this bite for yourself.” He pauses, holding the fork in front of my mouth. “You sure you don’t want some? I can share.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
He shoves the bite into his mouth, savoring it, humming his pleasure. The sound makes my body light up, ultra-aware of every little thing he does. “You’re missing out.”
His reaction to the cake is making me forget my nerves. “Fine. Feed me a bite.”
Pleased with himself, he cuts me off a big chunk and holds the fork in front of my mouth. “Open up.”
I part my lips, all the air leaving my lungs when he slowly slides the tines of the fork into my mouth. The sugary goodness of the cake melts on my tongue and I wrap my lips around it, murmuring when he pulls the fork from my mouth. His gaze darkens, his focus solely on my mouth and nothing else, and awareness crackles in the air between us.
I chew and swallow, shocked that Rhett feeding me a bite of cake in the middle of a birthday party could be so … sensual.
“Good?” His voice is rough, his gaze fiery.
Nodding, I rub my lips together, getting one last taste of the sugary sweetness. “Delicious.”
“Want another bite?” His brows lift in question.
“I probably shouldn’t.” I shake my head.
But I don’t mean it. He feeds me a few more bites between his own, the two of us leaning toward each other more and more, until I’m close enough that I can easily crawl into his lap. I’m tempted to do it. To curl up close and feel those big arms come around my body, cradling me.
My phone buzzes and I check to see who the message is from.
Iris: Meet us at the hot tub in one hour.
“Iris wants us to meet her at the hot tub,” I tell Rhett.
“With Brooks?” he asks.
Me: Is Brooks with you?
Iris: Duh. I found a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. We want to share it with you guys.
“She has champagne.” I lift my gaze to find Rhett already watching me. “Do want to hang out with them?”
