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“Ah, just what I was hoping for.”
Another laugh escapes her. “What do you need me to do when I get there?”
“First thing is to take your bag to my room and settle in. Then just hang out. I think I have it all set up.”
“I have a couple of dips, but they need to be put into the oven to be warmed up. I don’t want to do that until it’s almost time to eat.”
“Sounds good. Really, just relax. Take a look at the place. I was hoping you would go with me to look at some furniture and decorations and all that stuff. Stroll through and get some ideas. Other than a big-ass TV for the living room and basement, oh, and a pool table, I’ve got nothing.”
“What is it with you guys and your big TVs?” She chuckles.
“If we can’t be there, we want to feel like we’re there,” I explain. “The bigger, the better.”
“Oh, really? So you’re telling me that size really does matter?”
“Pixie,” I say huskily. “Do I need to show you my… size?”
“Hmmm.” She pretends to think it over. “Maybe, if you’re lucky.”
Once again, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I love her. “Okay, babe. I’ll see you soon,” I say instead. After ending the call, I toss my phone in the cupholder and press just a little harder on the accelerator, anything that gets me to her faster.
At my place, I grab an old suitcase and throw in some jeans, a couple of hoodies, T-shirts, underwear, and then I grab some sweats. I toss in a few extra T-shirts because I know my pixie likes to sleep in them. Grabbing some toiletries, I put them in a trash bag, not willing to risk them leaking all over my clothes. On my way out the door, I spy the soft throw that Dawn loves. I bought it for her because she always likes to snuggle and seems to be cold. Grabbing the blanket, I toss it over my shoulder and head back out the door.
Chapter Nine
Dawn
My hand shakes as I put the key into the door. Why, I have no idea. I’m not breaking the law. However, this feels like something. Something I’m trying really hard to not name. Pushing open the door, I take in the foyer that leads into the living room. Deep mahogany hardwood floors greet me and run throughout the house. This place is beautiful. I downplayed it when he asked me if I liked it. I wanted to scream that I loved it, and beg him to let me live here with him. Instead, I told him I really liked it, and that I could see him living here. All true. Just not as outspoken as I could have been.
Tossing my keys on the kitchen counter, I also set down the bag that contains the two dips I made, as well as a bag full of a variety of chips for tonight. Heading back outside, I grab my bag, lock my car, and rush back inside. The chill of the December air seems to be cutting through me, even with my down jacket.
After kicking off my shoes, I take off my coat and eye the closet. I wonder if there are any hangers. With the door open, I see a new single pack of white plastic hangers in the bundle they were packaged in. A laugh escapes me. I’m surprised he thought of hangers. I can picture him hanging them up and being proud of himself for remembering. Shaking my head, I unwrap the bundle, grab one for my coat, then take the trash to the kitchen.
My sock-covered feet pad down the hall to the master bedroom. The house is split up with the master bedroom, an office, and the laundry room on one side, the other bedrooms are on the opposite end of the house. Pushing open the bedroom door, I take in his huge sleigh bed. It’s the same dark mahogany as the floor. It’s a perfect fit. The bedding is folded, sitting on the bare mattress in a clothes basket.
Setting my bag on the floor, I get to work making the bed. His sheets smell like him, and I can’t help but bring them close to my face and inhale. Mark’s scent is uniquely him, manly and woodsy. It’s a scent that’s become a comfort to me over the last few months.
After the sheets are on, I slide the pillows into their cases and then toss his comforter over the bed. It’s not perfect, but we’ll be right back here in a few hours. At least when we’re exhausted, we won’t have to deal with making the bed before we crash for the night. Glancing at the nightstand to see the time, a picture in a dark mahogany frame catches my eye. Lifting the picture, I can’t help but smile. It’s Mark and me at Ridge and Kendall’s Memorial Day weekend. Flashbacks of the day flash through my mind. The good and the bad. We all thought we were losing Ben. That little boy has been through so much.
The picture is Mark standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders and he’s smiling wide. My head is tilted back, looking up at him upside down. He’s over a head taller than me, but despite the height difference, we look good together. Then again, maybe that’s my heart talking.
“I love that one.” His deep husky voice comes from behind me.
Slowly, I turn to face him, gripping the frame to my chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You were lost in thought.” His eyes flash toward the bed. “Thanks for that.” He nods at the freshly made bed.
“Figured we wouldn’t feel like it later.”
He grins. “You plan on tying one on tonight, Pixie?”
His grin is infectious. “I don’t know just yet. The night is still young,” I counter.
“You’re still packed,” he says, noticing my bag on the floor.
“Yeah, I made the bed, then this—” I hold up the frame before placing it back on the nightstand. “—distracted me.”
He moves into the room. One step then another carries him closer to me. When he reaches me, he grips my hips and lifts me in the air, tossing me gently on the bed.
“W-What are you doing?” I laugh.
“That.” He points at me, his blue eyes shining with mischief. “I wanted you to do that,” he says, leaning over the bed. He braces his arms on either side of me and brings his lips to mine. He takes his time, traces my lips with his tongue, nipping at my bottom lip. “Love that sound, Pixie,” he mumbles, before taking the kiss deeper, his tongue exploring my mouth in a way that only Mark can.
He’s pulling back too soon for my liking. I loop my arms around his neck, trying to keep him there, but he breaks free. Sitting up, I watch him as he picks up my bag from the floor and sets it next to me on the bed. I don’t say a word as I watch him unzip the tote and start laying my clothes out on the bed. My eyes follow him as he opens up one of the dresser drawers and places all of my clothes inside.
“Mark?”
He ignores me and comes back to my bag. He pulls out my toiletry bag, my hairdryer, and my flat iron, and turns, disappearing into the attached bathroom. When he returns a few moments later, he does the same to his bag that I just now noticed. When he’s satisfied, he tosses our bags through the door of one of the walk-in closets. “You can pick which one is yours later,” he says, climbing on the bed and stretching out next to me.
“Uh, they’re your closets,” I remind him. My heart is hammering in my chest. It’s so loud I know he has to be able to hear it.
He shrugs. “I’m giving one of them to you.”
“I have a closet at my place.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. Leaning down, he kisses the tip of my nose. “Well, now you have one here too.” He props himself up on his elbow to stare down at me. He stares at me intently, waiting for what I’m not sure. For me to freak out maybe? I’ve been overemotional these past few months, but he’s been there right beside me through it all.
I shiver when his large calloused hand slides under my sweater. “Cold?” he asks huskily.
“Never been warmer,” I murmur, my eyes locked on his.
Slowly, his hand slides up until he’s running the pad of his thumb over my silk-covered nipple. “I don’t know,” he muses. “This tells me you might be a little cold,” he says as he continues to caress my nipple through my bra.
“That’s all you,” I confess.
“Yeah?” His smirk tells me he knows damn well what he’s doing to me. “I’m thinking maybe I should help warm you up, you know, just in case.”
My b
reath hitches in my chest when he slides my sweater up, and his wet hot mouth latches on through the silky material of my bra. “Mark,” I say breathily, my hands gripping the sheets.
With skillful precision, he has the cup of my bra pulled down and is sucking my pebbled bud into his mouth. I squirm under him, wanting more. I’m just about to beg for it when the doorbell chimes, echoing through the mostly empty house. I groan, which causes Mark to chuckle as he slides my bra back into place and pulls my sweater back down.
“Sorry, babe. We’ll pick this up later.” He winks, then climbs off the bed. I watch as he adjusts himself as the doorbell sounds a second time, and disappears to go greet his guests.
I take a minute to get myself under control. He’s a damn tease, but that’s okay. Payback’s are a bitch. I hear deep voices but can’t make out what they’re saying. Forcing myself from his bed, I stop in the bathroom and make sure I’m decent. I adjust my bra and put my hair that is somehow out of place back in order. My cheeks are flushed, but there is nothing I can do about that. Maybe I can blame it on the cold. I smile to myself and follow the voices to the living room.
“There she is.” Kent opens his arms, and I don’t hesitate to walk into them. He wraps me in a tight hug.
“Kenton,” Mark says, his voice low, making Kent laugh.
