Page 16 of The Kiss Countdown

He chuckles while spooning ice cream into his mouth. An action I absolutely do not watch closely. Not even when his tongue darts out, licking the excess off his lower lip like he did with his coffee a few days ago. It’s not like I’m wondering if the ice cream would taste better from his lips than the spoon.

I press a hand to my stomach to ward off the butterfliestrying to take flight and shake my head when Vincent holds the cup out toward me. “Mind if we check out the decorations while we’re here?” I ask. Nothing like some pretty sparkly things to distract from pretty men.

Vincent shrugs, and I lead him to the group of tables covered in white cloth. I move to an empty one, leaning over a chair to admire the centerpiece. It’s an arrangement of gold roses in a tall vase with lit candles and large old-fashioned gold clocks. “You know, if they swapped out the gold mats and instead had everything sitting on top of a mirror, the tables would practically glow.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Vincent says behind me.

I wave my hand. “Don’t mind me. I can never shut my brain down when it comes to parties and decorations. If I get started, I’ll talk your ear off all night.”

“You won’t hear me complaining.”

I stand straight and turn to Vincent, not missing how his eyes quickly dart up, like while I was checking out the table, he was checking me out. And there go those butterflies again. Instead of looking away, I let my eyes travel over him. If we’re both letting loose tonight, there’s no harm in a little flirting. But when I see the now empty cup he grips in one hand, I frown at him. “You ate all of it?”

Vincent blinks at the cup, then at me. “I tried to offer you some and you shook your head. I thought that meant you were done.”

I’m about to question how he finished the ice cream in the small amount of time my back was turned, but then we hear a deep voice call through the crowd, “Vince!”

We both turn to see a man in a sparkling black blazer and gold party hat. He stands a few inches shorter than Vincent and wears gold wire-frame glasses that complement his dark umber complexion.

He shoots a wide grin at Vincent as he stops before us and sticks his hand out. “As I live and breathe.”

Vincent ignores the outstretched hand, instead going for a hug. “Lance. Man, it’s good to see you.” Both men are beaming like long-lost friends when they step back. “It’s been too long.”

“Way too long. You know, Camille said you might be here tonight, but I didn’t believe her. She also said you wouldn’t be alone.” Lance looks at me, losing all trace of humor. “I don’t know who you are, but I do know a woman wouldn’t put up with the likes of him. If you’re here under duress and need help, blink slowly two times.”

I look up at Vincent with wide eyes. “What is he talking about?” Turning back to Lance, I say, “I’m happy to be here with Vincent, and I’m totally here of my own free will.”

On the heels of my two slow blinks, Lance barks out a laugh. “Oh yeah, she’s a keeper, Vince.”

I meet Vincent’s suspicious gaze and smile up at him innocently.

Vincent sighs. “Why do I have the feeling introducing you two was a bad idea?”

There’s no sympathy to be found from Lance. “Maybe if you came around more often, I wouldn’t have to give you a hard time all at once. Excuse me,” he says to me. “I know Vince will act like his momma raised him with no manners, so I’ll introduce myself. I’m Lance. And you are?”

I take his outstretched hand. “Amerie. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. It’s not every day, or ever, actually, that Vincent brings a beautiful lady around to meet the family.”

“Family?” I raise my eyebrows to Vincent.

“Of course he hasn’t talked about me.” Lance casts an accusing glance at Vincent. “I’m Vincent’s brother-in-law.”

“Pain-in-the-butt-in-law,” Vincent says under a badly disguised cough.

Lance winks at me. “He only gives the people he likes a hard time. You should see him and Camille in the same room together.” He holds up his hand and waves behind me. “Speaking of the lovely devil.”

“I can’t believe you found him before I did.” Camille joins our group, first hugging Vincent, then, surprisingly, me, before she stands beside her husband.

Aside from the gold party hat that matches Lance’s, Camille is the epitome of class in a long black gown with a square neckline. One side of her hair is swept up, while the other swoops over her eye in loose waves to her shoulders. Her whole look is very much giving Old Hollywood Glam, like a young Sheryl Lee Ralph inDreamgirls. And now that she’s here, it’s time to turn the act up a notch.

I wrap my arm around Vincent’s bicep and smile.

Chapter Seven

I’m so glad you were able to come,” Camille says to me. “I was sure Vincent would send me a last-minute text saying he was ditching after all.”

“Oh, not at all. He was excited about coming.”

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