Page 87 of Wrapped with a Beau

He is, though. He rakes his eyes over her face as she laughs, giddy and sweet, memorizing the sparkle of her brown eyes, the curve of her lips, the reddened tip of the pert nose he has the sudden urge to drop a kiss atop. When he acts upon the impulse, she giggles and gives his arm another squeeze, snuggling even closer, half hiding her face. She looks up at him at the exact moment he makes the glorious mistake of glancing down again.

His entire world tilts. The pleasure centers of his brain detonate like a Vegas slot machine and he forgets his own name, or, apparently, how to walk, judging by his sudden stumble.

“What the fuck, Ves,” Elisha says through a giggle, and it sounds like sunbeams bursting through clouds. He comes to with a disorienting abruptness. “Are you okay?” she asks. “I know I was the distracted one a few minutes ago, but did you have a drink while I wasn’t looking? Or maybe ten?”

He wishes. God, a finger’s worth of Glenfiddich would be good. “Icy patch.”

She looks down at the almost completely dry sidewalk. “Hmm. You sure you’re good? We can head back to your place if you want.”

Ves clears his throat. A momentary lapse, that’s it. He needs to get this back on track before he gives himself away with the force of his yearning. He likes her. Likes. Not lo— That other word. “Trying to weasel out of doing all the things on my list, Elisha Rowe?”

She makes an offended sort of grumble. “No way! We still have to ice-skate in Central Park, see the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, and—”

“None of those things are on my list,” he interrupts. “They’re for tourists.”

“I am a tourist.”

“I did everything you wanted us to do in Piney Peaks,” he points out. “Without complaint.”

“Ha! You’re kidding me, right? You definitely complained. Okay, whatever you have planned for me, can we fold a few of my things into yours?” She pulls her arm from his, patting down her pockets before coming up with a folded sheet of notepaper from the Chocolate Mouse, candy cane borders with a whiskered mouse in the corner wearing a cute Santa hat and bow tie.

He scans the locations, which are plentiful and, more importantly, a logistical nightmare to get to before they go home tomorrow evening on the last bus out to Piney Peaks. He hands it back to her pinched between two fingers. “These are where tourists go for photo ops.”

She snatches it. “Exactly. And all my favorite movies have been filmed there.”

Ves groans right there on the street, getting a startled look from passersby. “You’re making me a fangirl right alongside you,” he accuses.

“Darn, you figured out my nefarious evildoer scheme.” She stands on tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek. Or it would have been, if he hadn’t turned his mouth at the right time so her lips landed at the corner of his mouth. He knows without checking that there will be a sticky mess of her glossy pout left behind.

“Ves!” she chides, rubbing at it with cold fingers that are once again not wearing mittens. She looks like she’s biting back a smile. “You’re a mess. What am I going to do with you?”

His traitorous mind answers for him: Love me.

His mouth, thankfully, is more circumspect. “Tell you what,” he says. “Give me that list again.”

“Are you going to make fun of me?”

Ves sighs. “Probably. But I’m also going to get you everything on your Christmas wish list.”

She skids to a stop so fast that for a second, he thinks she’s hit the nonexistent ice, too.

“Everything?” she asks coyly.

He never overpromises or underdelivers. “Everything,” he confirms.

Chapter Forty-Four

Ves

With a groan that rumbles down his throat and slingshots all the way to his toes, Ves reaches his peak. He finishes seconds after Elisha, his body flush against her sweaty, naked skin, pressing her into the mattress. She’s glowing a gorgeous shade of pink all over, and the sleepy, content smile playing on her lips as she looks at him under lowered eyelashes almost gives him an erection again. With regret, he slides out and discards the condom but snuggles back in bed immediately, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m not cold anymore,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Good. Any objections to me making you shiver for a different reason?” He lightly draws circles and swirls over her skin, rewarded by her giggles and trembles when he does figure eights across her nipple until it stiffens again. He rolls it under the pad of his thumb, pleased when she hisses and stretches like a cat, angling her body into his.

When she’s this happy, it’s easy to forgive her for spending the rest of their evening doing utterly pedestrian things like visiting famous spots from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Serendipity, and Enchanted. A single smile from her and he’s a goner. He will happily play tour guide if it means earning as many of those smiles as he can.

They’re scheduled to hit the rest of Elisha’s list tomorrow morning, mostly beloved sites of movies Ves has never seen but has been pertly informed he will as soon as they get home. Date night or threat, he doesn’t much care as long as he’s spending it with her.

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