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“The dance is in a week, do it online if you want,” Oliver suggested.
“No way,” Xander butted in. “Tara is all about Pilgrim, get it locally. For extra points.” His radio sounded and the next thing we heard was Xander’s serious growl. “Gotta go boys. Duty calls.”
“He’s a man with secrets isn’t he?” Oliver laughed and I could picture him shaking his head in wonder.
“I’m dying to know,” I admitted. “As soon as Tara is mine, I plan to find out.”
“One obstacle at a time, Chris. Good luck and happy shopping.”
Now I just had to figure out the perfect gift. And the perfect way to tell the woman I loved that she was perfect for me.
Tara
“You look like a princess, Tara!” Lila walked between Chris and I, holding our hands as she skipped towards the entrance of the Winter Dance with a wide grin splitting her face. “I think she’s gonna be the prettiest princess at the dance, Daddy.”
“Thanks sweetie, but you look like a real princess with those pretty ringlets.” We were running late for the dance because one look at Lila’s crooked ponytail and I knew I had to step in and give her a hairdo worthy of her magnificent dress.
“Thank you for the curlies, Tara. I love them!”
“You both are beautiful,” Chris said in an indulgent tone.
“Holy cow!” Lila stopped in her tracks at the door that led to the decorated community center ball room. “It’s like a winter wonderland, Daddy. Like the song!”
It really was breathtaking and I gave her hand a squeeze before turning to Chris. “It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” he growled with heat in his eyes.
“There’s Brittany!” Lila pointed to her friend and then darted off without a glance backwards.
“She has to show off that beautiful dress,” I told him. “It’s in a girl’s DNA.”
Chris pulled me in for a hug and a sweet kiss. “This dress is fantastic, Tara. You look incredible,” he growled the words in my ear and kissed me on the crook of my neck. “I just want to strip it off you and see what’s underneath.”
I sent up a small thanks to my girls for the birthday gifts I wore tonight. The champagne colored dress had produced exactly the response I’d been hoping for even when I didn’t think I had a place to wear it. It hugged my curves in all the right places and hid the flaws he’d already seen. “Not much. There’s no room for it.”
“Tara,” he groaned. “There are kids present.”
I laughed and shook my head. “This dress is perfectly decent, thank you very much.”
“It’s more than decent,” he assured me. “But the thoughts I’m having about you are anything but.”
“Good to know I’m not the only one, because you clean up well. Really well.”
He shook his head and growled, grabbing me by the hand to drag me to the dance floor. “This is a PG night, at least to start with. If you keep that up I’m gonna drag you off somewhere and have my way with you.”
His words sent a shiver of desire through me and I felt my nipples harden. He felt them too when he pulled me close as a mid-tempo song began to play. “Is that a promise?”
“Tara,” he groaned the warning.
“Okay fine. No more naughty talk.” I just liked to rile him up anyway because it was nice to know someone wanted you that much. “I wanted to talk to you anyway. About what you said the other night.”
His shoulders tense and his hazel eyes stared at me with regret. My heart leapt. “I shouldn’t have said the words when I did.”
That wasn’t regret that he’d said that words, which was a relief. I’d been sitting on these words for a week, ever since I decided that tonight would be the perfect night to tell him. “Chris.”
“No, Tara. I meant the words but hell, I couldn’t have chosen a worse time to say them to you, especially for the first time.”
I shook my head. “My little writer, always trying to create the perfect scene.” It was sweet, really, his need to make things memorable. Perfect. “But I’m not looking for perfect.”
“What are you looking for?”
I smiled and pressed a short, too short, kiss to his pouting lips. “I’m looking for real, Chris. Life is real and messy and imperfect. I love that about life and I love you.”
“But…what?”
“I said that I love you, Chris. I love that you felt so vulnerable, that your guard was down so much that you forgot to create the perfect moment to tell me how you felt. You just said it and it was perfect.”
His brows dipped in confusion. “It was?”
“Yep.” I couldn’t stop hearing those words, guttural and breathless with the exhaustion from our passion. “But you’re the writer, the storyteller so I wanted to create a perfect moment to tell you that I love you.”
