Family Ties
0 прочтений
- Автор: Nick Scipio
- Жанр: Легкое чтение, Любовные романы, Современные любовные романы
”
“You won’t know till you try me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You still aren’t going to tell me?”
She met my eyes in the mirror and nodded. Then she borrowed from her father’s playbook: she visibly adjusted her attitude and smiled.
“What? The ten years thing?”
“No. I… I’ve been thinking the same thing. Not tonight, but in the back of my mind. It’s natural. ‘Is she The One?’”
“I’ve been wondering the same.”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “It depends on what you have to tell me, I guess.”
“True. But we don’t have to rush.
“Yeah, but like you said, we’ve been dancing around it since we first met.”
“True.” I tried to remember when it was, exactly, and she read me
“September 3rd,” she said, “1981.”
My eyebrows tried to do a backflip. “Holy crap! You remember the date?”
“Of course. I’m bad with math, but I remember dates.” She beamed.
“Wren and I were late to Art History and you couldn’t stop staring at us. We thought you were cute. I drew you in my sketchbook that night.
“Mmm hmm. I’ll show you sometime.”
“I drew you a lot between then and now. Well, except for… you know.”
“When I was a jerk?”
“I wish I could draw people like you do.”
“I did, didn’t I?” I had a sudden, whimsical thought. “You should sculpt Mr. Big sometime.”
“Maybe I already have,” she said coyly.
My eyebrows did their acrobat thing.
“I’m kidding. But I’ve thought about it.”
“Of course.” She turned from the dresser and faced me.
I brushed her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Ten years might not be enough.”
“I know.” She stretched upward for a kiss.
“Are you ready for bed?”
“Bed or sleep?” she asked with a grin.
“Uh-oh. What have I gotten myself into?”
“Come to bed and find out.”
Wren and Christy went shopping the next day. Trip and I had to move our cars to let Wren back hers out. She used it so rarely that I sometimes forgot she had it.
He and I left a little later. He’d already done most of his Christmas shopping, but he wanted to buy some lingerie for Wren. I knew of a specialized boutique—I’d found it during the hunt for Christy’s Halloween dress—so we went there first. We probably shouldn’t have been surprised to run into the girls, or that they were carrying bags filled with purchases.
“See, I told you,” Christy said to Wren.
“Told her what?” I asked.
“That you’d come here.
