Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
ANNA
“Your tits look amazing, Counselor. Wanted to tell you that from the second you stepped inside the church.”
“Goddddd.” Laughing, I lay my forehead on Dean’s chest and allow him to lead me around the dance floor.
He didn’t even know these people a week ago, but in such a small amount of time, he’s managed to acquire a suit that looks as though it was tailored specifically for him, and snagged a boutonniere to match the flowers I left somewhere in my past.
On the table, I think.
His hair is slicked back, and the bruising along one side of his face has only taken him from traditionally handsome and shoved him toward roguish and delicious. “How could I know you’d say something about my tits?”
“Because I pride myself on transparency and predictability. I’ve been myself from the moment we met, which allowed you a chance to understand exactly who I am at my core, rather than some puffed up fake ass version all cos I wanted to impress you.”
I pull back just far enough to search his playful eyes. “You don’t care about impressing me?”
“Fuck yeah, I do. But I want you to like the real me, so forty years from now, when you’re bitching at me on my sixty-ninth birthday after I make a rude joke for the sixty-ninth time, I’ll know you jumped into this with your eyes wide open.
I’ll know you chose me. What are you doing on Christmas day, anyway? ”
“Christmas Day?” Stunned, I glance left. Right. “As in… tomorrow?”
He hums happily under his breath. “Mmhm. Tomorrow. Mel and Nick are ditching town for a few days, and you’ve got this strange freeloader sleeping on your couch.”
“You didn’t sleep on the couch last night…”
“Sure didn’t,” he quips, entirely too pleased with himself. “Don’t plan to sleep on it tonight, either. But tomorrow, after we’ve exchanged presents and I get you fat with cocoa that tastes almost as good as you—”
Wait. We’re exchanging presents?
“—Well… I told you about this tournament family of mine, right? How they put on a BBQ every year for all the fighters who aren’t too egotistically wounded to stick around after they lose.
I risk prosecution in NDA court by telling you this, but that town is just an hour away, so I thought we could slide into the Road Runner and go for an adventure.
The event organizer doesn’t believe you hit me with your car.
She said I’m full of shit and too scared to step up against her fighter.
Anyone could buy a sling and fake an injury, but if I take you… ”
“You threw me under the bus?” My heart jumps and thuds, tension wreaking havoc on my nervous system. “Dean! I thought we had a deal? I don’t snitch on you about the jewelry thing, you don’t snitch on me for the car thing.”
He barks out a loud, arrogant laugh. “I already told you; I had nothing to do with the jewelry thing. And don’t worry about the fighters snitching on you; consider this an internal audit. The cops won’t be involved.”
“You’re such a pest, you know that?” I lean closer again, and rest my cheek on his broad chest. “I suppose, since I don’t have any other significant plans for tomorrow, I could maybe get in the car and head east…”
I feel him shake his head.
“West?”
Another shake.
“South?”
Finally, he nods.
“Head south for an hour. Are they gonna be mean to me because I flipped you over the roof of my car?”
“No. They’ll probably give you a high five and ask for your autograph.
” He pushes me away, holding my hand and leading me into a spin, then he tugs me back again, wrapping me up tight and pressing a kiss to my lips.
“I think our idea of Christmas is gonna be way better than any of the shit we’ve tried separately. ”
“You think?”
“Mm.” His stubbled chin brushes against my temple. “Especially if you start the day by wrapping your mouth around my candy cane.”
“I heard that.” Elena floats by, dancing with…
is that a server? A six-foot tall, olive-skinned, bright-eyed server whose hand sits dangerously close to Nick’s baby sister’s backside.
Smiling wide, she crinkles her nose and tut-tut-tuts at Dean.
“There are children present, Mr. Warner. They do not need to hear about your candy cane.”
“Mm. And those same children don’t need to see your friend’s palm as low as it is.” He looks to the server, somehow becoming Nick’s proxy while the man is busy elsewhere. “Three inches higher, bud. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Instantly, his hands jumps to the middle of her back.
Smug with power, Dean brings dancing eyes back to mine. “He’s taking her to Paris, by the way.”
“Paris?” Shoot me in the heart with a Valentine’s arrow! “She always wanted to go there.”
“Mmhm. Where would you wanna go for your honeymoon, Ms. Maxwell? I mean…” His shoulders lift with a nervous shrug. “Hypothetically speaking.”