“Fine, hot monkey sex tonight, save the ‘I love you’ for tomorrow – you know, once you find out if the sex is any good.”
Lily was practically sputtering with a combination of exasperation and laughter when she heard Dev howl in the background and she slapped hand over her hot face. Clearing her throat, she attempted to get the conversation back on track. “So, dinner. Suggestions?”
A muffling noise like Daisy had put her hand over the phone, but Lily could still hear her when she asked, “Hey, Dev. What would you feed a bear shifter if you were trying to get into her pants?”
Lily closed her eyes and sighed.
Christian studied his reflection in the mirror and smoothed a hand over his hair yet again before adjusting the collar of his bright white button down. He’d left off the tie he’d chosen, changing his mind at the last minute to leave the top button undone for the sake of comfort. It left his scars more exposed, the ribbons of flesh pink with a slight shine marring the bronze of his throat, but Lily had seen his scars, had scars of her own, and he knew she wouldn’t be repulsed by the unsightly flaw.
Glancing down at the white gold face of his Piaget watch, Christian cursed. Still thirty minutes left before he could see her. Were the cufflinks too much? Removing them, he rolled back the crisply pressed sleeves to expose his forearms. He’d been told more than once that he had nice ones, by several different women. The compliment had come as a bit of a surprise – he’d always thought women were about rock hard abs and tight butts, but apparently forearm admiration was also a thing, so maybe he should show them off.
Reevaluating his reflection, he took a deep breath. He was scrubbed from top to toe, his beard trimmed, shirt and pants sharply pressed, silk socks and Gucci loafers on his feet. Nice, but not overdone. When he took her out – which he would, very soon if he had his way – he’d do the whole nine: jacket, tie, and cufflinks. But for tonight, a dinner in her home, the intimate setting called for just the right blend of comfort and style. In his opinion, he hit the mark, but would Lily agree?
Christian lifted his nose and sniffed the air. He’d left the windows open to take advantage of the breeze and that breeze was currently pulling the scent of food with it. His stomach growled in anticipation and he checked his watch again despite knowing only a mere handful of minutes had passed since the last time he looked.
Should he bring flowers? No, he’d already brought her flowers and they hadn’t been received all that well… but things had changed, hadn’t they? Their relationship had evolved since then. Shit. He should bring flowers. Not that Malsum Pass had a florist. Yet, somehow a perfectly arranged bouquet didn’t quite fit Lily. Not his wild cat. No, wildflowers were much more her.
Looking from his reflection, to his watch and then to the door, he wasted not a second more. He had a bouquet to pick.
