“Thank you. And you’re the best, Akiko.” Klein sounds absolutely sober. No slurring of words, no hesitation in speech. But she also has no balance or dexterity.
She seems totally unaware of the fact that she’s pressed against me, with my arm looped around her waist to keep her upright as we move toward the car at the end of the dinner.
Ares, Lareina and Bryce shoot us amused looks. Grandma and Dad nod, while Aunt Jeremiah smirks, her eyes knowing. Akiko beams as usual, her demeanor soft with affection.
I always thought Klein’s smile was gorgeous, but the one right now? Stunning with unguarded warmth and happiness. She stumbles a little as she waves at everyone like a newly crowned Miss U.S.A. I tighten my hold, and her cheek rests on the inside of my shoulder. She’s so warm and soft, and she smells amazing, like woman, flowers and aromatic plum wine. Although its sweetness and smooth finish make it very drinkable, the plum wine Akiko serves is stronger than it looks, and Klein had one—or maybe two—too many cups.
I manage to get her into the car and start driving home. Five minutes in, she begins to sing. No matter how charitable I want to be, singing isn’t her forte. She’s slightly off-key, and when she can’t seem to recall the lyric, she just makes up some nonsense words to fill in. Still, I can’t complain. She sounds deliriously joyful, and her mood is contagious. I love the way her eyescrinkle and the little wagging motions she does with her fingers to the beat.
Smiling despite myself, I join in.
“Hey, you sound good!” she says, eyebrows rising.
“Of course. I used to sing a cappella in college.” I say it with a healthy dose of mock arrogance.
“Really? I didn’t realize. I thought you did something like…debate or something in college to prep for your legal career. Did Bryce do it, too?”
“Nope. Just me.” I wink. “I have many hidden talents.”
“I bet, and I’d love to discover them all,” she says with a grin.
“We’ll have plenty of time.”Plenty of time? It’s just six months,I think.Then again, we can always extend it.
She laughs. “Now it’s going to sound even better with both of us.”
And we sing all the way home. She knows quite a few songs—even if not every word—and I love the way her face glows as the freeway lights flash past.
When we reach the garage and the engine dies, she lets out a soft sigh. “Thank you for the dinner. Your family is wonderful. I loved it.” She fumbles with the seatbelt, but has trouble unbuckling. “Huh. Wonder if it’s broken.”
“Or maybe you’re just drunk,” I say.
“I amnotdrunk.” She makes sure to enunciate every word with precision.
“Of course not.”
She purses her mouth, making it look eminently kissable. “Who should we ask?”
“About what?”
“The broken seatbelt! Akiko said if I want something, all I have to do is ask.”
I try not to laugh. She’s so adorably inebriated. “The God of Cars?”
She nods. “Hey, God of Cars, can you fix the seatbelt?” she says, looking up at the roof of the vehicle.
I reach over and click her seatbelt loose, then rest my elbow on the edge of her seat, my torso still turned toward her. “Ask, and ye shall receive.”
Laughing softly, she drops her gaze to my face, her beautiful violet eyes dark in the night as they search mine. Her mouth softens. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” I enjoy catering to her little whimsy. It isn’t every day I see her this relaxed with her guard down. My eyes stay on hers. They’re so bright, so open. They pull me in deeper, and I want to drown in them, become one with her.
Jesus, get a hold of yourself.
“We should go inside,” I say hoarsely before I cross a line I shouldn’t.
“Okay. Open sesame!”
Shaking my head, I climb out of the car. She fumbles with the handle, so I open the door and help her out. She’s even less steady now, her feet tangling.
