She’s got on a cream-colored dress that hugs her body like a second skin, but it isn’t in any way trashy-looking. The material is actually kind of thick and cut sharply across her collarbone. The skirt is long and comes down to about mid-calf, her narrow waist encircled with a gold belt. Her hair is loose in choppy flowing waves, and she is absolutely breathtaking.
She takes in my appearance, and I expect a little smirk in return over how over-the-top and ridiculous I must look standing on my own front porch. Instead, she stares in wondrous awe. I have to wonder if she has ever been picked up for a date before in her life. Her gaze flicks to the roses, then over to the necklace box in my hand, before wandering over my suit. I force myself not to reach up and tug at the tie again.
“Wow,” is all she says.
When my eyes roam over her, she blushes. I bring my gaze up to her face, repeating the sentiment. “Wow.”
We just stare at each other, both of us now grinning like fools. Finally, I shove the roses forward. “These are for you.”
Regan takes them gently in her hands, then brings them up to her nose to sniff. “Mmm.”
And yet, I still stand on the porch and she still lingers in the foyer as we stare at each other over the red petals.
Finally, she snickers and steps backward. “You might as well come in. I’ll need to put these in some water.”
I enter my own home, now clutching the necklace box with my eyes pinned on Regan’s shapely ass as she sashays into the kitchen in search of a vase. I’m fairly sure I don’t have one, and I realize that was a fail on my part. Should have gotten flowers already in a damn vase.
I commit that to memory for next year.
Except it will be two dozen.
I follow Regan into the kitchen, watching in amazement as she immediately pulls out a plastic pitcher from the cabinet beside the sink. Regan has been here long enough to know I don’t have a vase, but she immediately fills the substitute with water and arranges the flowers within it.
She fluffs and primps the arrangement. Plucks a worn petal here, a wilting leaf there. She raises some of the flowers up higher than the others, then continues to fret over them. I think they look perfect, but she keeps working at it.
Until I finally realize she’s avoiding me.
She’s overwhelmed by this, and she doesn’t know what to say.
I step up behind her, one hand going to her waist while I rest my chin on one of her shoulders. “Did I make this weird?”
Regan twists to look at me with the softest expression. “Not weird at all. In fact, it’s incredibly wonderful. I just don’t want this moment to end.”
I’ve never been an overly romantic guy. Truth is, I wouldn’t have thought about roses until the clerk suggested them to me. But I swear to fuck Regan’s words to me right now produce an almost-swooning sensation within my head. I have to place my other hand on the edge of the sink for balance.
To cap things off perfectly, Regan goes to her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, Dax.”
My skin actually tingles when her lips pull away.
“Want to see what else I got you?” I ask with a grin.
She nods her head fervently.
I turn her body so she’s facing me, and I place the black velvet jewelry box in her hands. The clerk had also suggested I stop and get a gift bag as well as a card to go with this, but I ran out of time.
Regan’s hands shake slightly as she opens the square flat box, then peers at the necklace I bought her. She places a fingertip on the edge of the chain, following its path gently to the pendant.
“Oh, Dax,” she breathes out as her eyes lift to meet mine. “It’s so very beautiful.”
Taking the box from her, I gallantly offer, “Let me put it on you.”
Smiling, Regan lifts her hair up in a big pile as she turns to expose her neck to me. I manage to work the clasp of the necklace and get it on with little fuss. She spins to face me, lifting the diamond drop pendant up to examine it. “It’s perfect.”
“No, you’re perfect,” I say.
She grins then, a slight sparkle of mischief in her gaze. “I got you something, too.”
“Oh yeah?”
Her lids droop slightly, her smile turning coy. “I’m wearing it. Under my dress. You’ll have to wait until later to see it.”
Jesus.
Instantly, my cock jumps to attention, wondering exactly what she has on under that dress. Regan isn’t into a lot of fancy, sexy lingerie, but I’d like to change that one day. The fact she’s gone out and bought something designed to drive me crazy makes me want to say to hell with dinner reservations. I know exactly what I want to dine on, and it’s standing right in front of me.