“And I appreciate that.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her to his side, and placed a kiss on her crown. The scent of fresh blossoms rose up.
“A-Are you sniffing me?”
“And if I am?”
“Um… I’ll try not to worry about you trying to wear my skin.”
“You smell good, sweet girl. Just like the flowers I brought you tonight.”
“Charmer.” She placed a hand on his cheek and he marveled at the current that flowed between them. This feels right.
“Come on, let’s go be fashionably late.”
“Wait, is there a certain time we should’ve been there?” she asked, pulling away and placing her hands on her hips.
In that moment, he could see the teacher and mother in her stern face.
“No, ma’am. It started at six, but runs until nine. It’s why I thought seven thirty would be the perfect time to slip in and say hi. We’ve got dinner reservations for eight thirty.”
She relaxed. “Okay. For the record, I hate being late.”
“Trust me, sweet girl, I noticed you run a tight ship a long time ago.”
“Hey, it’s not a bad thing.”
“Never said it was,” he said. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she tilted her face toward him. Unable to resist, he bent down and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She moaned, and his mouth tingled. When he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, she sucked on his tongue. He wound his fingers in her hair, pulled her neck back, and tilted her head, deepening the kiss as he sampled her. She was a fine whiskey, aged and flavored to perfection. She seared her herself on his heart and set his senses aflame. They pulled apart breathing heavily.
“If we don’t leave now, sweet girl, we won’t be going anywhere.”
She gasped. “Then we should go.”
“You sure about that?” he asked, searching her lust-filled glossy gaze.
“Yes?”
The uncertainty in her voice was the green light he’d been waiting for. Tonight she’d learn who she belonged to.
§
“Wasn’t there an act of terrorism here last year?” she asked as they stood outside the rebuilt building.
“Yes, a car bomb was placed outside. They were randomly targeted. No need to be concerned.”
“You sound so sure about that,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“I know the owner,” he replied with a shrug. And the perpetrators. But you don’t need to know about that.
“If you say so,” she muttered as they walked inside. The crowd was small, but the sold tags on the paintings told him it’d been a good night.
“Snake!” Collen exclaimed, greeting them.
“Hey, Collen, how are you?”
“Good. I’m so glad you came. The kids will be happy to see you. All three of them. Who’s your pretty friend?” Collen asked.
“Yeah, brother, who’s the beautiful woman you somehow convinced to show up here with you?” Enzo asked, coming up with Aibhlinn beside him, his goddaughter, Aoife, in her arms. Her dark curls spilled down her back, obscuring her face from his view as she snuggled into her mother’s shoulder.
“This is, Estelle, my old lady. Estelle, this Aibhlinn, Enzo, my goddaughter, Aoife, and their mother, Colleen.”