Victoria
After dropping off the kids at Aunt Christina’s, we walk back to the car side by side, Christopher chuckling to himself. God, I love that sound. I missed it while he was gone. He laughed often enough when we talked on the phone, but being next to him turns it into a whole new experience because Christopher laughs with his whole body. It's contagious; the grin on my face can attest to that. We recovered from the shock completely somewhere on the road.
The air between us is light and playful, right until he places his hand at the small of my back. Energy strums through me at the contact, spreading everywhere, making my heart somersault and my toes curl. Damn, damn, damn…. This man lights up my body without even trying. Out of the corner of my eye, I peek at him, trying to gauge whether he's aware of the sudden change between us or if I'm the only one feeling naughty.
His mouth has curled into a smirk that indicates he's very pleased with himself. Aha! I'm definitely not the only one with X-rated thoughts.
"I still can't get over Lucas's sense of humor," he remarks just as we reach the car. He opens the door for me, but I don't climb inside just yet. "Too much on the morbid side, I have to say. I'm sure if I look closely, I'll find some white hair. Those were some of the most terrible seconds of my life." His smile falters, his gaze clouding with worry. I want to kiss that worry away, to hug and thank him for being so strong in a moment of—fake—need. He was so composed, where I was so lost and scared. Usually, I rise up to any challenge, and I can count on myself to react swiftly, but all I could think at that moment was that I couldn’t lose Lucas like I lost my parents. Christopher was calm and in charge, and it felt so good to have someone to count on.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I decide to keep all this to myself instead of thanking him. Since none of that danger was real, I'd sound silly.
"Should have made him tell me what he was planning," is all I say.
"You put him up to it?"
"Yes. You seemed down when you messaged me, and you did say pranks cheer you up. So, I thought…." I shrug, licking my lower lip, acutely aware of the short distance between us. Christopher reaches out to me, dragging his knuckles across my cheek. I barely hold back from turning his palm up and burying my cheek in it.
"You're one hell of a woman, Victoria." He scrutinizes me in a way he never has before. The intensity in his gaze smolders. Without another word, I lower myself into the driver's seat. The second he climbs in the car as well, the air thickens with tension.
"Excited to see your apartment?" I ask, gunning the engine, rolling my shoulders when the car lurches forward.
"If you come up with me, yeah."
"Of course I'll come upstairs." I focus on the road, my voice even. "I need to give you a tour."
"Of my own apartment?"
"Yeah," I continue undeterred. "I need to show you how to use the appliances and—"
"Make sure I really know how to open and close the drawers? Sit on the couch?"
"You woke up with an extra dose of smartass," I remark, enjoying this immensely.
"Nah, I stocked up on it on the plane. Come to think of it, you're right. You absolutely have to give me a tour."
"Why the sudden change of heart?"
"There're some things I definitely need your help testing." He leans closer to me, dropping his voice to a whisper. "The bed, the shower."
"Personally, I was hoping we could test the kitchen counter. Always been a fantasy of mine."
My words are met with silence, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice his lips part open in shock.
"It's good to have you back, Christopher."
He grunts something I can't quite make out, and I'm so proud I managed to unhinge him for once that it's almost silly.
When we arrive, I park on the side street adjacent to his building. He takes his large suitcase from the back, and I lead the way inside. The concierge, Tom, greets me from behind the reception desk, flashing me a conspiratorial smile.
"I see you and Tom are friends already," Christopher says once we're in the elevator, and I think I detect a hint of jealousy in his tone. It delights me.
"I found out early on that the fastest way to get things done quickly is to have the people you work with like you. Also, I genuinely like people."
Butterflies roam in my stomach once we step out of the elevator on his floor, and telling myself I'm being ridiculous is futile. I'm not usually nervous when I show clients the outcome because I'm confident in my work. I am now too, but this is important to Christopher, and he's important to me. Also, I have a surprise waiting for him.
The first inkling that things won't go as planned is the smell of burned pastry assaulting my nostrils when we step inside the apartment.
"What the—" Christopher begins, but I hurry to the kitchen before he has the chance to finish the sentence. Sure enough, smoke comes out of the oven. I turn it off, opening the window and then, after a brief hesitation, open the oven too. A thick cloud of smoke comes out, and I duck away from it, hoping it'll go out the window and won't trigger the fire alarm. Yeah, my cookies are burned to a crisp. I almost want to cry in frustration.