Page 27 of Starstruck with the Krampus

Dominic smiles. “Yeah, I figured it might be a bit much.” He slides one of the drawers all the way out and points to something black in the very back. “Those should help.”

In the end, I choose the thermal leggings he suggested, a red cashmere sweater with a high neckline to hide his bite, and that scrunchie he seems to like so much. We shower separately because I don’t trust myself—or him—to behave if we got in together. I don’t have time to wash my hair, so I brush it out with Dominic’s hairbrush and hope it doesn’t smell like I had a night of delicious sex. I use his moisturizer, too, grinning at the fact that the big Krampus evenhasa moisturizer in his bathroom.

By the time I make it out into the living room, carrying a pair of cute ankle boots he bought for me, he’s made us both coffee in travel mugs.

“Marry me,” I groan, taking the first sip of the delicious brew, prepared with milk and one sugar, just as I like it.

Dominic stills behind the counter where he’s been tying a golden bow to a bottle of Italian Chianti, which he’d unearthed from somewhere to bring to my mother.

A hot blush makes its way up my neck and into my cheeks. I didn’t mean it likethat, of course—it’s something that slipped out by accident. But now that I’ve said it, I don’t want to take it back. First of all, I don’t want to hurt Dominic by stumbling over an apology, and second, I did mean it alittlelike that.

His gaze roams over my face, as if he’s trying to decide if I’m being serious. In answer, I lift my chin a fraction and hold steady, not backing down.

Finally, his handsome face splits into a wide grin that shows off all his fangs. His eyes crinkle in the corners, and he says, “I will.”

Tears sting my eyes, and a bubble of happiness erupts in my chest, unexpected and beautiful. “Oh God.”

He strides to me and wraps me in a big hug, then drops a kiss to my forehead. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

I should want to stay here and discuss this, make sure that he understands that we have to date for some time at least before jumping into matrimony, but…I don’t. I’m happy to follow him wherever fate takes us.

The lunch at my mother’s house turns out beautifully. Mom did a double-take when she opened the door and found Dominic standing beside me on the porch. Her eyes slid to me in a question, but something on my face must have told her I’m very serious about dating him, and besides, I wouldn’t have brought him to her house if I’d had any doubts.

She’d pulled him into a firm hug, accepted the wine bottle, and had him stirring the pot of pasta sauce five minutes later. I think he was a little scared of her, which was cute to see—I didn’t think the guy who nearly liquefied Brandon’s brains was afraid of anything, but apparently petite Italian ladies are his weakness.

He met my grandparents, too. He shook Nonno’s frail hand and gave Nonna a respectful bow, then helped them get settled at the table. He was polite and attentive, and every time I met his gaze across the table, I couldn’t contain a smile.

After tiramisu and espresso are served and demolished, Mom herds me into the hallway. Dominic gently but firmly shooed her out of the kitchen, claiming that the cook shouldn’t have to do the dishes. He rolled up the sleeves of his expensive button-down and started on the pans, so we left him there and put Nonno to bed for his afternoon nap.

“He’s lovely,” Mom says, eyes shining. “Have you been dating long? You haven’t said anything.”

I bite my lip, wondering how to explain our relationship, then settle on, “No, this is a fairly recent development. But I’ve known him since January. He was a client, so we couldn’t see each other until our work together was complete.”

She clucks in annoyance. “That Mr. Webber. Always with his stupid rules.”

I decide not to tell her about how he tried to shove me into his psycho son’s arms at the Christmas party and assure her instead that I’ll be searching for a new job soon.

“Anything you want.” She pats my cheek. “I know you’ll make the right choice.”

She leaves me in the hall to go check on Nonno again, and I wander toward the sitting room where Nonna is watching reruns of her favorite Italian soap opera. When she sees me hoveringin the doorway, she lowers the volume on the TV and pats the couch beside her.

I sit next to her, and she takes my hand between her palms, her skin cool and papery. I hug her with my other arm, inhaling her scent of rosewater and the face cream she’s been using since before I was born. The Christmas tree in the corner is decorated with the same ornaments we’ve had for decades, beautiful pieces that remind me of Dominic’s magical garden. When I glance up, I see him hunched over the kitchen sink, elbows-deep in sudsy water. He’s a new addition to this scene, but he fits somehow, even though he’s a seven-foot-tall Krampus in a bespoke suit.

Nonna squeezes my hand tighter and clears her throat. “I will call Father Roberto. See if he has any weekends free this May.”

“What for?” I tear my gaze away from Dominic to look at her.

She gives me a small smile. “For your wedding,cara.”

I gasp, shushing her. I’m pretty sure Dominic’s hearing is better than any human’s, and I don’t want him listening to my nonna plan a wedding after I’ve forcefully dragged him to an unplanned family lunch.

I think of the words I blurted out so carelessly this morning and of his reaction to them. We shouldn’t be moving this quickly, but a little voice in my head reminds me that I’ve been lusting after Dominic for a full twelve months. This isn’t some quick crush that will melt away with the first spring sun but an emotion much deeper than that.

At that moment, Dominic glances to the side and catches my gaze. His human glamour is in place, but I catch the gold glimmer in his eyes when he smiles at me.

“He is like…” My nonna tugs on my sleeve, impatient. “Come si dice un girasole?”

“A sunflower.” I focus back on her.

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