Connected (Connections, #1)(88)
“Surprise!” she yells, opening her trunk. Once we got back from our run, we took a shower, and she decided to run some errands while I talked to Xander about the contract negotiations.
Cocking my head to the side and raising an eyebrow, I peek inside the trunk. “What are we doing with these, running a daycare center?”
Shaking her head, she pouts her lips as she points to the boxes. “Do three year olds play Backgammon?” Every time she pouts her lips, all I want to do is kiss her.
“I don’t know what three year olds play, but I do know what twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven year olds play, and it’s a lot more fun,” I answer, pulling her to me and kissing her soft lips.
She steps around the car, opens her door, and grabs what looks to be a grocery bag full of food. Walking back to the trunk, she drops it to the ground near my feet, waving her finger at me. She giggles as she takes that one step keeping us apart. “You’re lucky I love you because sometimes your humor is just wrong.”
She’s only really said the words ‘I love you’ to me twice before, but I’ll count this one. She’s texted them to me and written them in a note, but verbalizing the words seems hard for her. I’m sure it’s because of him. But I don’t want to think about that now, so I shake that thought out of my head and give my amazing girl my full attention.
Licking my lips, I feign ignorance as I ask, “What? What did I say? And what’s in the bag?”
Grinning at me, she slides her hands up my chest, wrapping them around my neck. “Don’t play dumb with me, you know exactly what you said,” she mockingly chides into my ear. “And as for the bag, you'll just have to wait and see.”
In a low whisper, as close to her ear as I can get, I ask, “About the games or having fun?”
She giggles again. God, I love that sound.
She unwraps her arms and slides her hands to my face. I hold her as she kisses me on the lips. Her mouth lingers for a few seconds as my palms rub her back. I’m getting caught up in the moment when suddenly she pulls away and swats me on the ass. “You can’t put three year olds and sexual innuendos in the same conversation! That's just all kinds of wrong.”
Crossing my arms, I narrow my eyes and point my finger at her. “I’m not the one with S.E.X. on the brain! That word never even came out of my mouth.” I spell the word pretending to scold her as she shakes her head at me.
“Come on. Help me unload these, and I might not have to punish you,” she says, grabbing and twisting my arm toward the trunk as she picks up the bag she set on the ground.
Lifting the boxes out of the car, I turn to her and grin, “If you’d have told me at the beginning of this conversation that punishment was an option, we wouldn’t be standing here right now emptying your trunk.”
She pushes me forward and grabs some boxes herself as I follow her up the stairs, staring at her beautiful ass in her jeans.
I set the games onto the counter and I turn around, holding one of the boxes. “I’ll only play Monopoly if you play by my rules.”
Putting her hands on her hips, she raises an eyebrow. “And River, what rules would those be? Has Milton Bradley called you with a new set? Because as far as I know, the rules haven’t changed since the game was invented.”
Shooting her my most wicked grin, I set the game down and pull out my phone. Holding it out to her I answer, “Dahlia, as a matter of fact, I got a text this morning from Milton himself informing me of one new rule.”
Smirking as she walks closer to me, she places her hands on my shoulders and looks right into my eyes. “First of all, I’m pretty sure Milton himself died over a hundred years ago.” She runs her fingers down my arms and holds my hands. “And second of all, only because I’m insanely curious and like to keep up with game changes, what might this new rule be?” she asks in her most seductive tone.
“You don’t know beautiful girl?”
“Kind sir, if I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask. Would I?” she asks while fluttering her eyes using that cute southern accent she uses when she tries to cover up trying to be a smart-ass.
I clutch her hands tightly, pull her right up to me, and whisper into her ear, “Every time you pass go, instead of collecting two hundred dollars, you have to take something off.”
“Oh,” she says, biting her lip as she takes the game from the counter and heads to the kitchen table pulling the cellophane off the box. Sitting down, she flashes her irresistibly sexy smile and winks at me as she sets up to play our first game of Strip Monopoly.
Dahlia decided not to move back into her house. She packed up the rest of her things and has contractors making repairs so she can put it back on the market. We haven’t talked about her long-term living arrangements since the day of the break-in, but she knows I want her to stay here with me. She’s here most of the time anyway but hasn’t said anything about wanting to move in with me on a more permanent basis.
She’s so determined to stay with Grace; she makes it a point to go back there at least every other night. Even last night, after we’d finished our little game of Strip Monopoly, she insisted on going back home to Laguna Beach. I’m not sure why she feels the need to do this, but I go with it because it works for her and it’s not like I’m unhappy. I’d just be happier if she moved in with me.