“I’ll show youcute,”she huffed.
He smiled. “I’m certain you will.”
Of course, she gave him the stink eye when she turned to continue up the stairs, but he wasn’t fazed. He rather liked it when she got huffy with him. It had been a very, very long time since anyone dared to do so, and he thought it showed just how comfortable Zia had become since that night in the greenhouse.Thatwoman wouldn’t have dared to give him an order.
Thiswoman wiggled her hips as she walked, teasing him, and fearlessly crowded into his personal space as they stood in the doorway.
She was completely, unreservedly comfortable with him. By some miracle, she even loved him.
The only thing he was missing was the bond.
Forcing that thorny thought aside, as he so often did, Harlan fell back into habit and schooled his expression into something neutral as Zia activated the doorbell with a touch of her elbow. Her fingers went white around the edges of the casserole dish in her hands.
“Feels weird,” she whispered, breath clouding in the air.
“What does?”
“Ringing the doorbell.”
Harlan cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Isn’t that what everyone does?” When they weren’t breaking in, of course. Historically, he rarely had use for doorbells.
Zia licked her lips. “Well, yeah, but I lived here for a hundred years. I don’t think I’ve ever done it before.”
“Then why do it now? Couldn’t we just… go in?” He didn’t exactly know the protocol for holiday visits, let alone big family gatherings, but he suspected it wouldn’t be an issue if she walked through the door unannounced.
She shrugged. Her expression was pensive when she answered, “Dunno. Just didn’t feel right. This isn’t my home anymore, I guess.”
Harlan’s chest tightened. “Where is your home now?”
Her eyes met his. The lights strung around the doorframe reflected in them, making them sparkle with little flecks of blue, pink, gold, and green. Her expression was soft when she answered, “With you, of course.”
For a moment, it felt like he couldn’t breathe at all. Harlan stared and stared, trying to sear the image of her into his mind forever, before he finally rumbled, “You’ll officially move in with me when we go home.”
A grin stretched across her face. The little dimple on her chin looked even cuter when it was framed by a smile so big, it crinkled her eyes. “Is that an order, Mr. Bounds?”
“Yes, Miss North,” he answered, fighting the temptation to kiss her senseless.
Gods, he loved her more than life itself.
Somehow, her smile widened. “Good.”
Footsteps approached the door. There was the sound of the lock disengaging, then the door knob turning. Just as the door began to open, Zia leaned over to whisper, “You ready to face the mob, big bad criminal?”
Harlan firmed his spine. There was no way he would be intimidated by her family, no matter how fiercely they might disapprove of him. “For you, my Zia,anything.”
She winked. “Keep that attitude. You’re gonna need it.”
* * *
Things were, to put it mildly,chaosin the North household. Harlan had never seen anything like it.
On the whole, vampires tended to have small families, and they were deeply possessive of their kin. They didn’t throw big parties, or invite the whole extended family over for dinner on Saturday nights. Vampires could rarely stand each other’s company for too long. Packing a dozen of them into a room for hours at a stretch was a good way to end the night with fewer family members to keep track of, if nothing else.
But Zia’s family was so far removed from that world, they might as well have come from a different planet.
It was a gauntlet of light and sound, scent and contact. Not only were all of Zia’s brothers present, but so were their partners, children, and pets. Cousins were there. Aunts and uncles were there. He even thought he spied some people who could only be friends. Turkish flew through the air, mingling with good-natured American drawl as upbeat holiday music played through it all.
Every table was strewn with a mind boggling array of foods — from what he recognized as traditional holiday fare, to international delights, to things that he could only assume appealed to little hands. Plates of olives and dates and cookies and sliced fruit and cheese were everywhere. Someone had even thoughtfully provided a few bottles of synthblood for him, though he never would have asked them to.
