I suppressed a laugh. Leave it to Brigit to give her vic a lesson on hygiene. She bounded over to me, skipping on her heels, then stood in front of me like an eager schoolgirl. I handed her the wet nap I’d brought from home and kept in my back pocket with this purpose in mind. I’d seen Brigit eat before, and she sometimes got a little carried away. She tore open the square packet to clean her face.
“You did great,” I reported.
She squealed and clapped her hands together.
“Now can we stop at your place? I need to find something to wear tomorrow. ”
“What’s tomorrow?” she asked.
“I meet the scariest being ever. My boyfriend’s mom. ”
Chapter Eleven
Christmas Eve didn’t feel right without snow. I’m not much of a traditionalist, but I did grow up in Canada, and Christmas without snow was just plain wrong.
I was sitting on the loveseat in my living room, tugging nervously at the sweater I’d borrowed from Brigit. It was a pretty white angora knit with short cap sleeves and a purple-and-green Fair Isles pattern across the chest. It was a bit more cocoa-at-the-ski-lodge than Christmas-with-the-parents, but it beat anything I had in my closet.
My pants selection was an even mix of denim and leather, and jeans didn’t seem appropriate, so leather it was.
After trying a half-dozen different styles, I’d given up and pulled my hair into a ponytail with the loose curls draping down my back.
Pine needles were drizzled over the low pile carpet, and the whole apartment smelled of deep woods and the faint, clinging tendrils of Desmond’s baking. These were the smells that tugged at memory and rooted you to a place in time. While my knees might be jostling in a nervous beat, I couldn’t help but be warmed by the rightness of the apartment and how it felt like a home.
Desmond emerged from the bedroom wearing a hunter-green sweater vest over a crisp white shirt. The green deepened the gray hue of his eyes, almost blotting out the violet wash I loved so much. He was playing with the tie in his hands, smirking at a private thought, and when he looked up at me my heart stopped.
God help me, I loved him so much it made my chest hurt.
He smiled, showing off his straight white teeth, then darted his tongue between the pearly rows to moisten winter-chapped lips.
“You ready for this?” He must have thought better of the tie because he tossed it behind me onto the headrest of the couch, where it draped over Rio’s flicking tail. The kitten was elated to be offered a new toy and dug her tiny claws into the silk.
My bouncing knees captured his attention, and his smile faltered as he sat on the arm of the loveseat. It was a miniscule comfort to have him rub the meridian between my shoulders. It would have helped if he said I could bail on dinner, but no such luck.
Rio wrapped herself up in the tie and tumbled off the couch, falling to the floor with a thud. The one cat in the world who failed to land on her feet and she was all mine.
“How long until Dominick gets here?” I had a wicked idea in mind to distract myself from the fear of meeting Momma Alvarez.
Desmond checked his watch, and the simple act of seeing him read the fancy, large timepiece on his wrist sent a thrill through me. There was something erotic about a man who wore an expensive-looking watch. I think it affected the same smitten-receptors as seeing James Bond in a suit.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the arm of the couch and onto me. His weight was comforting, and I wriggled against him until my body was molded alongside his.
“Hi,” he said. His face was mere inches from mine and alight with amusement. His breath smelled of minty toothpaste and was warm on my lips.
A simple taste test confirmed his tongue to be hint-of-mint fresh, with his distinctive lime aftertaste.
“You taste good. ” I sighed.
“You taste like cookies. ”
He kissed me gently, with the easy sweetness of a familiar lover. With his body on mine he was free to cup my cheeks between his palms and lavish tender, delicate kisses over my forehead, jaw and throat with the softness of butterfly wings.
My original plan to ravish him with a Christmas Eve quickie dissolved with each pass of his mouth. Even the moisture-deprived roughness of his lips didn’t take me out of the simple, innocent indulgence of the moment.
When his road trip of kisses came home to my mouth, I held his face as he’d held mine and kissed the tip of his nose. He smiled, and with him this close I could see the lilac of his eyes.
“Love you. ” I kissed each of his dark eyebrows.
“Good. Then you have to come meet my mom. ”