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“Oh Damon, they’re lovely, thank you.”
Of course they weren’t for me. I’m not his girlfriend. I feel a bit sad, then remember what he bought for me this morning, and I don’t feel so bad.
He’s holding an oblong-shaped box under his arm, and he hands it to my dad as he comes out to greet them.
“Aw,” Dad says, “you shouldn’t have,” but his eyes light up as he spots what it is: A Macallan Oscuro Single Malt. “Ooh, Damon. This must have cost you a fortune.” He reads out the note on the back of the box while Damon and Alex take off their jackets. “‘Picture yourself in a room with dark oak paneling, and mahogany and leather furniture. The oak gives way to flavors of toffee, cigar smoke, dried fruit, intense sherry, citrus rind, cracked black pepper, nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon, finished with slightly herbaceous and tannin sherry note. Wow.’”
“I ordered us an Uber as soon as I saw what he’d bought,” Alex states. “No way am I driving when there’s whisky like that to be had.”
“Is it too early to start?” Dad asks, taking the bottle into the kitchen.
“Never,” Alex replies, and Sherry laughs as she follows them out.
I take Damon’s jacket from him, hang it on the peg, and turn to face him. Then I catch my breath as he moves up close to me. For a second I think he’s going to kiss me, but even though he stays close, just an inch away, and he studies my mouth, I realize he’s retrieving something from the pocket of his jacket. I have a blissful few seconds as the smell of his cologne washes over me, and then he moves back.
He holds the object he’s retrieved out to me. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?” he murmurs.
I take the small oblong box, my heart racing. “Can I open it in public?” I ask suspiciously, as it looks as if it could contain a similar object to the one he bought me this morning.
He chuckles. “Yeah.”
It’s covered in olive-green paper with gold flowers, almost too pretty to open. I peel it off carefully and remove the lid. It contains eight gorgeous truffles in beautiful paper cases. The inside of the box states they’re white-chocolate champagne truffles topped with edible gold leaf.
“Ooh,” I say. “Damon, you naughty boy.”
“Devil emoji,” he says. He bends and kisses my cheek. “Ma belle.”
My face warms, and he smiles as he spots the blush.
Oh, jeez. I’m going to have to sit through a whole family dinner without letting it slip that Alex’s best mate gave me an orgasm in the back of his Jag on the way down here. Thank you, God.
I feel a flutter of nerves at the thought of Damon attending our informal dinner. I know his family are super rich. Alex, Gaby, and I aren’t short of money either, but my dad and Sherry are the kind of ordinary working folk who have to save up for a vacation. They don’t have a personal chef, and they’re not used to eating at fancy restaurants.
But equally he’s known us a long time, and even though his folks are well off, he stayed with us a lot while we were all growing up. He treats Sherry like a second mother, just like I do, and anyway he’s like any other guy and has a huge appetite, so I’m sure he’s going to enjoy the home fare.
We head to the kitchen, and the guys busy themselves with pouring a whisky and debating whether to have a splash of water with it. While they’re savoring their first mouthful, Gaby and Tyson arrive. I go to the door to greet them, bending to give Tyson a big hug as he steers his wheelchair up the ramp and into the hall.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he says. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise.” I let him pass, then smile at my sister. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, pumpkin.” She grins and envelops me in a big hug. She’s maybe an inch taller than me, but she looks very similar, with the same blue eyes and long brown hair, although hers always looks less fluffy than mine. She’s twenty-four, and we’ve always gotten on well, although we’ve tended to have our own circle of friends, and we’re not super close. But I admire her, and I love her for the way she’s stuck by Tyson. And I know I’m going to cry buckets tomorrow when they get married.
“Damon!” she says as we follow Tyson into the kitchen. “Didn’t know you were going to be here.” She reaches up and kisses his cheek.
“Sherry took pity on me,” he says.
“Alex told me Damon won’t be bringing a plus-one to the wedding,” Sherry states, “and I didn’t like to think of him sitting in a restaurant on his own this evening while we’re all having a family dinner.”
“Belle will have to be your plus-one,” Gaby says. “She doesn’t have a date either.”
“Gabs!” I glare at her.
“What?” She grins. “You’ve always had a crush on him, admit it.”
Horrified, I blush scarlet. Damon studies his shoes, trying to hide a smile and failing, and everyone else chuckles.
“Gaby,” Sherry scolds, “don’t embarrass her.” She passes me the huge dish of mashed potatoes. “Take this into the dining room and just ignore her.”
