A Tiara Under the Tree

“At least let me hyphenate it,” Waverly responded with a laugh. “Waverly Leverve-Crowne.”

“As long as we can eat double pepperoni and cupcakes every day.”

How was she supposed to just take her pizza from him without offering some of hers? Waverly opened her door wider and waved him inside. Taking the cue, Dominic strolled in. His walk was cocky, and he was confidently aware of his sexual prowess. Waverly inhaled deeply and shook her head. Something about this seemed wrong...but when was she ever known to make the right decisions?

“The pizza is in the kitchen,” said Waverly. She walked passed him, bumping her shoulder against his hard biceps. Steam still rose from the cracks of the large square box. Stepping away from the kitchen gave herself the chance to realize she hadn’t been able to smell the spicy pepperoni. Now she caught a whiff of the Alfredo. Chicken Alfredo was good—on a plate of pasta. On a pizza? Waverly frowned. “Does your sister like you?”

Dominic came around the island bar of her kitchen. He set her box on the counter next to the fraudulent pizza. “Depends on her mood. I’m guessing she doesn’t tonight.”

“What a shame you don’t share things, because I feel so horrible for you not having a normal pizza.” Glad to be in the presence of someone who appreciated a classic pizza, Waverly grinned. She attempted to pull the box closer to her side of the counter, but Dominic held on to one corner with a finger and stopped her.

“Well, hold on now.” His left brow rose and matched the amused smile spreading across his handsome face. “Didn’t I say there were exceptions?”

“No, but I’m guessing one of them is for pizza?”

“For you,” he said with a wink, “I’ll make the exception.”

The line was corny, yet Waverly laughed—not just laughed but giggled. “I feel so honored.”

“Well, it’d be my honor to dine with the queen,” said Dominic, grabbing the tiara from her hand. A shocking overprotective sensation washed over her. This might have been what new mothers felt when someone held their newborn babies. The sparkly band looked so tiny and fragile in Dominic’s large, rough hands.

Waverly touched the crown with her fingers. Having it on top of her head was natural. With it off her head, she felt anxious. Tonight she’d planned on having a date night with herself. “Sorry,” Waverly mumbled and took the crown from his hand. She placed it back on top of her head where it belonged.

“Do you always wear a crown?” Dominic asked. He squinted his light brown eyes at her. “Was I so blinded by your beauty earlier that I didn’t notice?”

“No,” Waverly replied and moved toward the cabinets. She reached for the blue-and-white-patterned plates from the cupboard above the sink. She got up on tiptoe. Warmth oozed down her body when Dominic appeared behind her to help guide a plate down. Dominic took it from her hands and set it on the counter next to the one she had already taken out for herself. “I wasn’t expecting company this evening, and I’d already reserved a table for a pity party of one.”

“Now, what would a woman like you be doing with a table like that?” Dominic leaned against the counter as if he belonged there. And he did, as odd as it sounded. The blue Victorian accents on the cookie, flour and sugar jars in the kitchen made Dominic look like a bull in a china shop.

“If I told you, you’d think I’m crazy.” Waverly chuckled. She motioned for Dominic to have a seat at the counter with her. Dominic opened the large lid to the pizza. Pepperoni-scented steam rose through the air. “Would you care for a beer?”

For a moment Dominic pressed his hands to his bowed head. She wondered if he was religious and praying before his meal. “Dear Lord, thank you for bringing this woman before me. Smart, beautiful, seemingly sane if you don’t count the tiara and drinks beer? Not sure what I’ve done to deserve this, but thank you.”

Waverly shook her head. The left side of her face tightened with her half smile. “You’re crazy.” Quickly she grabbed two bottled beers from the door of the fridge and kicked it closed before returning to her guest. She set the bottles down as Dominic began to serve the pizza.

“Then we’re the perfect pair,” said Dominic. “One slice or two?”

“Are you going to judge me if I put two slices together for a pizza sandwich?” Waverly asked, adjusting her invention. In midserve, Dominic dropped a slice onto the floor, dug his keys from his front pocket and pretended to push himself away from the coun

ter. Was he shocked? Turned off? “Too disgusting?”

“No, not at all.” He laughed. “I’m bringing you in front of the justice of the peace right now.”

“If Jillian wouldn’t have a fit, perhaps.”

“Who is Jillian?” Dominic asked. “Your mom?”

Waverly nodded and took her seat. “Yes.”

“I get it.” Dominic nodded and took a seat, as well. “She’d want to be there at our wedding.”

“Maybe so,” said Waverly. “I think she’d be more pissed off at me ruining my chances to enter the Miss Georgia Pageant next year. A married woman cannot enter.”

Dominic nodded slowly while he fixed two slices together like she did. “Okay, so we’ll hold off our wedding until after you win.”

“No,” said Waverly.

“No?” Dominic repeated with a hint of hurt in his deep voice.