Their gazes locked, and Yvette looked quickly at the tray in her hands, hoping he could read her mind.
Tea, she mouthed.
To his credit, Alex didn’t bat an eyelid as tea poured out of the dog’s front paws.
“Merci,” he said when she handed him the cup. He’d been doing his best to speak French with her mother and sister, and Yvette loved him for that.
She loved him for all sorts of reasons. She loved his easy smile, loved the way he could concentrate on a problem for hours until he solved it, loved him for his courage, loved the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. And the way he touched her …
No.
Not going there.
Not with my mother in the room.
Now, she also loved the way he sat back on her mother’s couch and drank lukewarm tea as if it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.
Yvette had been here, in her mother’s living room, so many times, but she never remembered feeling as comfortable or as relaxed before. Somehow, loving Alex, and being loved back by Alex, made this possible.
Tomorrow, they’d be going back to Chamonix, where Beau, Valentina and Ren would be hosting them for a Christmas eve dinner. This was the first time in years that she wouldn’t be working over Christmas, and she had to admit she was looking forward to it.
Her mother left the room, muttering something about a snack. Her sister excused herself, saying she had to put the kids down for a nap. For the first time since they’d arrived, they found themselves alone.
Alex snuck a quick look at her. There was something like alarm in his gaze. Yvette approached, as if to give him a quick kiss, and put her mouth to his ear. “What’s wrong?” “I hate tea,” he said quietly.
Yvette almost laughed out loud. “But you’re—“
“English,” he mouthed. “Yes. I know. Are you going to help me?”
This time she couldn’t stop the laughter. Then she took the cup from his hand and drained it in one gulp before giving it back. “Now pretend you’re still drinking, or you’ll get a refill,” she whispered.
He pulled her against him. “Thank you for having my back.”
“Always,” Yvette said, smiling.
-- -- -- -- -- -- --