Opening my eyes, I gaze across the placid lake. The surface shines gold with the setting sun, and it’s so peaceful, as if nothing terrible is waiting for us anywhere.
Walking with her in my arms, I lower her so I can see her pretty eyes. They’re sunset and dreams and all of my future.
I slide my palms along her cheeks, kissing her cute little nose. “
I love you.”
Her eyes flutter closed, and when they open slowly, they shine with unshed tears. “Deacon…” She puts her hand against my face, sliding her thumb along the top of my cheek. “You own my heart.”
She’s in my arms, and our kisses are slow and languid, sated and happy. “Remind me to thank Rich for this.”
A pretty smile breaks across her face, and she laughs. “He’s on the permanent Christmas card list.”
“Are we starting a list now?” Holding her hand as I go to where we left our clothes.
“Absolutely. One for Christmas cards and one for switches.”
She’s behind me, and I hand her my shirt off the dry grass to wrap around her naked body as I pull my jeans over my hips. “I thought it was lumps of coal.”
“Those are for throwing.”
I chuckle, hugging her to my side, my arm around her shoulders as we walk back to the house. She’s a centerfold with her hair wet in only my shirt and those sexy lace panties. The sun is dipping behind the horizon, creating layers of red, orange, yellow, and blue across the sky.
“I want to paint this.” Her voice is quiet, dreamy. She looks up at me, and her eyes blend with the horizon. “I want to paint you.”
Lifting her hand, I kiss her fingers. “Sounds hot.”
A brown sack is on the back steps with a receipt attached from L&J Cafe. “What’s this?”
My phone has a text on the face. “Rich says, ‘Enjoy the best Tex-Mex in the city. Tell Angel not to be too critical. I’m sure she’s had better.’”
Her lips press in a smile, and she shakes her head. “I’m sure it’s delicious.”
We’re in the kitchen, and I put a Dos Equis in her hand. I take out the contents of the bag—flautas, pollo en mole, with sides of chips, salsa, and guacamole.
We carry the entire spread out the back door to Skeeter’s airy patio. Ceiling fans and the breeze make it pleasant, and as the sun goes down, so does the temperature.
I click on the gas fire pit, and yellow twinkle lights are strung around the edge of the roof. An enormous pillow is on the floor beside a low table. I take a seat, and Angel crawls between my legs, dipping a chip in salsa and feeding it to me.
“This salsa is the best I’ve had.” She crams a loaded chip into her mouth, crunching loudly. “Okay, Valeria’s is really good… But this is really good.”
“It’s hot.” I reach around her for my Modelo. “Give me some of that mole.”
“Mm… Try this.” She holds a flauta to my lips, and I take a bite of the roll.
Nodding, I lift my chin. “That’s good. Mole.”
“Okay, okay…” She giggles, cutting a piece of the chicken covered in brown sauce.
I groan in approval at the fruity, spicy, hot sauce with the chocolate undertone. She polishes off another flauta, and when we’re good and full, I lift her to her feet, pulling her onto the couch where she curls up at my side facing me.
“I guess we never really got to do this.” Her head rests on her hand, and I slide a curl off her cheek with my finger.
“I was always gone. Why did you ever wait for me?”
Leaning forward, she kisses my lips briefly. “Have you seen you?”
“So it’s purely physical?”