Page 31 of Trussed In Hope
“This thing…” I giggled. “Dinner?”
“Yes. And everything else, too. It’s been over a week, but I can honestly say that I know I’m falling for you.”
I was supposed to say something clever. Something that would make me not sit there like some giddy woman unable to utilize words to describe what she was thinking or feeling. No, instead, I just smiled at him as if I’d just won the lottery for a gazillion dollars.
“Say something, Queen.”
“How official?”
“I don’t want either of us to question what’s happening here. I want to grow with you into something so good that we’ll never want to let it go. You’ll be my woman, and I’ll be your man.”
“I don’t know if I want that,” I responded honestly.
“Why not?” His mouth dropped open, and I giggled, unable to keep it inside.
“I don’t want to be downgraded to being your woman when I’d rather keep being your queen.”
Hardison groaned. “Baby, say no more. Cause I’d love nothing more than that.”
“So I can call you my king?” I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands.
“Fuck yes.” His eyes lit up with wonder as he confirmed our new arrangement.
“Well, then it’s done.” I winked.
“Yes, it is.” He sipped water from his glass before asking, “Have you figured out what you want for Christmas yet?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Actually, I have. You’ve actually given it to me already. I’ve just wanted you. Nothing fancy, just a real chance with you. Dating and enjoying each other the way we have. I don’t need anything else. This time with you has been more than enough.”
“It’s not over, Queen. We still have more of it. Nice try, too. Sweet even. But you can’t ask for something you’ve already got. I’ll need a different gift request.”
“That’s my final answer, though. You’re asking me what I want, how about you? What would you like for Christmas?”
The waiter returned with the receipt for him to sign for our food. When that was finished, we left. Instead of going to the car, we walked to enjoy the fresh air.
“You’re not off the hook.” I bumped him playfully as I held onto his arm.
“I want a nice, simple Christmas dinner. It’s been a while since I’ve had that. It doesn’t have to be a huge spread. Hell, I’d be happy with a lunch meat sandwich with cheese.”
“Easy enough. What’s your favorite dinner? Something besides steak.” I nudged.
“Lasagna. My grandmother used to make an amazing one that we’d fight over. After she passed, that tradition died, too. My mother can’t cook, and that left nobody to keep her traditions going when it came to the food realm.”
“Garlic bread?”
“Mhm… Salad, garlic bread, blueberry pie, and a wheelchair to roll me into bed after I’m so stuffed that I can’t move.”
I giggled at him as he pushed out his stomach and pretended he couldn’t walk.
“Very funny, Hardison.”
“Mhm. It was.”
After a while, it became too cold, and we went back to the car to warm up.
At home, we cuddled in bed, talking into the late-night hours. There was a storm outside, and the rain against the windows was relaxing. Hardison had left for a little while to check on the staff and the animals, but with everything in check, he’d returned. He showered and came back to bed, where he held me as I rested against his chest.
I slept well until I heard a thump. I opened my eyes to see Hardison having a nightmare. He tossed his head from side to side, and when he threw his arms, one caught me on the side of my face, and the other hit the headboard. Stunned, I tried to get my bearings, but pain ricocheted from one side to the other. There was no way that the violent throbbing in my cheek wouldn’t bruise.
