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The shining material flares out around her legs, and she smiles widely as she comes to a halt. The dress hugs her curves in all the right ways, and I'm surprised to see the outfit almost fits perfectly. “It’s perfect,” she says softly, then throws her arms around my shoulders, clearly swept away in her exuberance.
I inhale her sweet scent as my hand hovers just above her lower back, not quite touching, but wanting to rest my hand on her. She pulls away, surprised. “I’m sorry, that was a bit much.”
I smile, my heart melting. “Not at all.” I reach out and gently run my phone along her lower jawbone, watching her eyes widen before the corners of her lips curve up. “There's another box for you to open.”
She seems to remember the other box in the kitchen, and I notice her taking inventory of herself, as if she's trying to figure out what else she could possibly need. Then her expression drives into a knowing look as she lifts up on tiptoe. I love watching her mind work, and I can't wait to see her response when she realizes she's wrong.
With that, we both make our way back out to the kitchen and pick up the box that had held her dress. Tugged at the bottom of the box inside a velvet bag are the shoes that match the dress, and I see her brow furrow as she opens the bag, then glances at the other box.
“Are those shoes acceptable?” I don't want her to be uncomfortable during the party.
She nods, her head clearly preoccupied by curiosity about the other box.
“And are they the right size?” I'm keeping her attention locked on the shoes while delighting in her anticipation to open the other box. I can tell she doesn't want to be rude, but she desperately wants to know what awaits her.
And suddenly, I realize I want to experience her anticipation in another way. I want to feel her hesitate, inhale, and swallow hard right before I touch my lips to hers. I want to feel her body squirm, her thighs squeeze together, her body shiver with desire before I give her what she begs for...
Shaking my head to rid myself of those thoughts, I nod at the second box. “Please open it.” Clearly I need to end this game before I lose my head.
She opens the box and glances at me, obviously confused as she pulls out the smaller box. But when she opens the container, I feel her gasp. Her chest rises, her knuckles go white on the edge of the counter, and her arms flex as she leans forward ever so slightly.
“It’s too much,” she whispers, staring down at the beautiful aquamarine set. I want to tell her that it’s really not - there are much more expensive sets I could have purchased for her, but I chose this one because the color matches her eyes so perfectly.
“I hope you love them,” I say instead. There’s no sense in reminding her about the disparity between our incomes. I don’t want to look like a jerk.
“I can’t possibly accept these,” she says, unable to tear her gaze away from the gems.
“I insist, or I’ll be insulted.” If she’s going to make me play hardball, I will. There’s no way she can turn this gift down that I won’t make her feel bad. When all is said and done and the party is over, she’s welcome to do as she wishes with the items. I simply want her to wear them for the occasion.
The beautiful center stone is circled by diamonds, but the stone’s cut gives the appearance of ripples, like water after a stone is thrown in. I pick up the necklace and loop the chain around her neck, well aware this is not the most expensive gift I've bought, but this is the first time I bought jewelry with an intention beyond “expensive gift.” I wanted one that matched her eyes, and this one is perfect. I fasten the chain and she turns to face me, her fingers delicately tracing the stone.
“Thank you,” she says softly, her eyes luminous, shining brighter in the dress and necklace. Her light brown hair and pretty face are already irresistible, but I can’t stop staring at her.
“What?” she asks, glancing down at herself.
I shake my head, floored by her. “You look amazing.”
Her smile widens. “Thank you.”
Before I can say anything else, my mother walks in. “Hey, guys, I just wanted-” She stops moving, her words freezing in her throat as she stands still as a statue, staring at Alisha.
I watch my mother watching Alisha and can’t hold back a smile, aware my mother sees her absolute beauty too. “Wow,” my mother says, her gaze sweeping down and back up Alisha before she turns to me with a good job! expression that almost makes me laugh. She’s acting more like one of the guys than my mother. “She’s gorgeous. I’m guessing she’s your date for Arson and Laurel’s celebration?”
How did my mom know about that? Now doesn’t seem like the time to ask questions, though, so I answer instead. Well, I kind of answer, as best I can. I nod, my mouth and throat so dry I can’t even speak.
My mother’s attention leaves me to lock on Alisha again as she reaches out to blindly pat my shoulder with one hand, missing once or twice before making full contact. “You’d better claim her as your own before somebody else does.”
I stare at Alisha, watching her eyebrows furrow as her gaze darts back and forth between me and my mother, obviously amused by our conversation.
I hadn’t considered claiming her or trying to make her mine. I’m more interested in seeing where things between us go, but deep down, I wish she was mine for more than just this celebration.
Alisha seems to take my mother’s words as a joke – and maybe they are, but I doubt it – and brushes them off with a soft laugh.
“Why are you here?” I ask, needing to rib my mother a bit and lighten the tension of the moment. I hadn’t expected her home, but she’s no doubt here to say her goodbyes before going on vacation.
Instead of glancing at my mother, I’m sure I’m staring at Alisha like I’d like nothing more than to make her mine. She’s shining brighter than the sun; I can’t imagine anyone not wanting her like I do in this moment.
“I’m here to say goodbye before going on vacation with Harvey.” Her shoulder pats turn into shoulder smacks as if she’s playfully punishing me for messing with her. But her attention is still locked on Alisha, who shifts as if she’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable under the weight of our full attention. My mother sighs. “She’s going to be the most beautiful woman at that party, maybe second only to Laurel thanks to that pregnancy glow.”
