Me
Fuck me, did you come up with that menu yourself?
Alivia
It was supposed to be coffee cake, and I tweaked it. And blueberry muffins, and I tweaked those too. The menu called for regular pears, not poached.
Me
Baby, you’re doing amazing.
Alivia
Thank you.
I’m leaving here in an hour. We’re meeting at your house, not Charred, right?
Me
Right.
Alivia
Perfect. See you soon.
“I’ve never worn anything more beautiful in my life.”
Alivia stood in the opening of my kitchen, staring down at herself. She’d chosen the blue dress with the black heels. A gold bag was clutched under her fingers—fingers adorned with several rings—and she had on a gold necklace and earrings.
I’d been responding to a few messages, and I set the tablet on my island and began to walk toward her. I couldn’t allow there to be any distance between us. My hands needed to touch her. My fucking nose needed to inhale her skin.
“You are …” My voice drifted off as I scanned her body with each step. Not once—I couldn’t just look once. I went as high as her forehead and down to the points of her toes numerous times. “Fucking breathtaking.”
Her gaze lifted and locked with mine as I circled her waist. “I can’t believe I’m in a dress that’s this pretty and that you bought it for me. And that you bought it all for me—the bag, shoes, everything.” She had curled her dark locks, and she adjusted their position as they hung over her shoulders. “Even the mascara and lip gloss.”
“The blue dress was my favorite, just so you know. I knew it would look exceptional on you.” My hands lifted along her sides, halting at her ribs, my thumbs stroking under her tits. “But this exceptional? I never could have imagined.”
She twisted in my grip, making the bottom of the dress bounce like fluttering eyelashes. “I need to know something.”
I nodded.
“How involved were you in picking out the dresses?”
“Why do you ask?”
She traced her finger down the buttons of my shirt. “I’m just curious.”
“My assistant brought over two racks’ worth. I chose what I liked, and that’s what’s hanging in the closet.”
Her head shook. “That’s far more involved than I thought. I just … didn’t know how all this worked. If you actually went to the store. If someone sent things over. I have a lot to learn about this world, Chef.” She tapped my chest. “Your world, I mean.”
“I know it’s your body”—I gripped her even tighter—“but it’s also very much mine, and I want to be heavily involved in what covers it.” I reached into my sports coat and pulled out a black velvet box. “Same is true for this.”
Her eyes went wide. “Walker, why are you handing me a box that looks like it may have jewelry in it? When I’m already dripping in jewelry that you bought me.”
“It’s something else I picked out for you. Open it.”
She shook her head so hard that hair fell into her face.
