Page 69 of Wild Card

After that’s handled, I carry her down to the kitchen.

“How about a sandwich?” I ask, placing her down on the island. It’s a nice height, making it easy for me to bend just a little and capture her mouth.

Her hands land on my chest, digging in like she can’t get enough.

I don’t know what I did for the universe to deliver me such a perfect fucking gift, but I thank God she ended up here. Swirling my tongue over her new bondmark from Thorne, I briefly lament not snagging that spot myself.

At the end of the day, I got more than I ever hoped for. A wrist bite is plenty enough for me. I pull back, and her lips chase mine, so I give her one last tender kiss and stand to my full height with a true smile on my face.

Lennox stares up at me from under her lashes, licking her lips. It’s so hard not to pounce, but what she needs from me right this second isn’t my dick.

“I guess turkey, if you’ve got it,” she says, reminding me to get my ass in gear.

It doesn’t take long to make her a sandwich and cut up some fruit. I spot my mom’s hot cocoa recipe on the counter and make that as she nibbles at her food. She tosses the crust of her sandwich to Shera, and I make a mental note to cut them off next time.

It’s easy enough to see that she’s not truly hungry, but she perks up as I pour the cocoa into the glass pitcher my mom always served it out of.

“It has to cool for a bit,” I say, making a mug for her. “While it does…” I cough awkwardly. “I thought you might want to open the courting gift I got you?”

Lennox’s eyes fly to mine, and she nods wildly. “Of course, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I really did.” Bending, I kiss her forehead and jog over to the table to grab the boxes. I head back, praying it’s not a ridiculous gift. Coming to a stop in front of her, I lick my suddenly dry lips. “It’s basically the worst time of year to do any shopping on the island, but we will court you properly once the storm passes.”

“Storm?” Lennox’s nose wrinkles. “It doesn’t matter. Please don’t worry. Really, I have everything I need.” She grabs my forearm, giving it a squeeze.

Placing down the box with the vase, I hand her the other.

She smiles up at me, and her dimples pop in her full cheeks before she looks back down to lift the lid off the box. I take it and set it down as she examines the gift.

It’s cheesy.

My options were limited, but I couldn’t stand the thought of coming back empty-handed.

“Ohmigosh, it’s so pretty,” she whispers, lifting the platinum rose out of the box.

The flower itself is stardust gray—whatever the hell that is—but it’s mostly a dark matte gray with shiny sparkles that make it look like a galaxy pattern. The stem is engraved with “Until the stars stop shining.”

She reads the stem and carefully places it back in the box before setting it aside. Once she’s done, she turns back to me and wraps her arms under mine. Her fingers dig into my back, pulling me closer as she hugs me.

“I love it.”

I’m pretty sure she’s just being polite until her emotions pulse in the bond. I wrap my arm around her back and nuzzle my cheek to the top of her head.

“They have all different styles, and you can collect bouquets of them that never die,” I say, repeating the information the lady at the gift shop down by the docks told me.

“That makes them even more perfect than real flowers.” She cuddles her face to my chest and sighs contentedly. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, should we head back to the nest?”

Lennox’s head shakes. “How about hot cocoa and a Christmas movie?”

“That works for me,” I tell her, pulling her off the counter.

Lennox and I settle in the family room. It’s strange to see the silks hanging from the ceiling, but it’s a good feeling. She’ll eventually leave her mark all over the house.

They don’t block the view of the television. At least, not from where we settle on the sectional sofa.

It’s not difficult to find a sweet Christmas-themed romance, and we make it a good portion of the way through while Lennox sips her cocoa. She sits at my side for most of it, but when she starts fidgeting, I pull her into my lap with her back to my chest. The crocheted blanket she’s been under falls away in the process, and I lose a considerable amount of focus to studying how my sweatshirt teases the tops of her thighs.

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