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I nod. "The owners took out a loan and are going to re-open it. I’m putting my money in, so I’ll have a share of it."
"Look at you." Pride shines in his eyes. "I am so proud you’re doing this."
"Oh." I blink. I was sure he’d tell me he would buy out the preschool for me. The fact that he didn’t, and that he’s encouraging me in this venture, is a surprise. And it feels so good. I throw my arms around his neck. "Thank you, husband."
His entire body stiffens, then a shudder runs up his spine. When I lean back, he has a look of utter shock on his face. "
What’s wrong?" I murmur.
"You called me husband."
"You are my husband, last I checked." I turn and begin to walk away, putting an extra twitch in my butt and an extra bounce in my step. Knowing he's following me, knowing his gaze is firmly fixed on my ass. I reach the kitchen, head to the kettle, and fill it. Then switch it on and set it to boil. I place my palm on my hip and turn to find he’s standing by the doorway, watching me, a hungry look on his face.
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Sure." His voice is hoarse.
I pop out one hip; he swallows. And when I push my hair over one shoulder to reveal the low neckline on the back of the dress, he reaches up and loosens his tie. Stifling a smile, I turn and rise up on tiptoes to reach for the teabags, when suddenly he’s behind me. His heat sears my back, and his fingers brush mine as he gets to the pack of teabags before me.
"Here." He places it on the counter, hesitates, then slowly backs away.Whoa, he’s really giving me space.
I place a teabag in each cup, pour the water in, then hand him a cup.
"Want to watch the fireworks on the tele and usher in the New Year?" He holds out his hand, and I place mine in his.
He leads me over to the living room. I place the tea on the coffee table, sink down into the couch, then kick off my stilettos and pull my legs up under me. He sits down next to me, and switches on the television, before reaching for a blanket and placing it over me. I snuggle in, and when he places his arm over the back of the couch and behind my neck, I lean in and push my cheek into his chest.
The television screen shows New Year celebrations in progress from around the world. I snuggle into him, and he wraps his arm about me and pulls me even closer. As the New Year dawns in different countries, the TV beams images of fireworks and celebrations from their respective capital cities.
“I’d love to travel to all these places,” I murmur.
“Anything you want.” He runs his fingers though my hair. "I love you, wife."
I turn my nose into his chest and kiss his vest-covered abs. "I love you, too, but—"
The planes of his chest tighten, "But?"
"But I still need time to work out what I want for my future."
On screen, the ten-minute countdown to the New Year begins. Fireworks commence over the Thames, highlighting the London Eye, the Shard, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, St. Paul’s Church, and other landmarks.
“It’s gorgeous,” I gasp.
“You are.”
I glance up to find he’s staring at me. Heat flushes my face. “I was talking about the fireworks.”
“I only see you.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead, then directs me back to the television. A
dazzling display of pyrotechnics, lights, and music illuminates the night sky on screen. The fireworks are choreographed to a soundtrack that gets my blood racing. My heartbeat speeds up. My pulse thrums to the beat. Or maybe it’s because of his nearness. How tenderly he holds me. How I know he stares at me like I’m the most important thing in his life.
I keep my gaze focused on the spectacle unfolding on the TV. London's skyline is transformed into a canvas of colors and patterns as the fireworks continue. It’s spectacular and breathtaking and even more special because I’m bringing in the New Year in his arms.
When the final ten-second countdown begins, he notches his knuckles under my chin, stares into my eyes.
"Can I kiss you?"
