When Stars Collide (Light in the Dark #2) - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,35
if this is meant to end, there’s no harm in enjoying it while it lasts.
I look up at him and he smiles down at me. His dark hair tumbles over his forehead, and I swear he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder I’ve had no luck in the dating department the last few years. When you compare a guy to Xander, they’re always going to fall flat. And what I really love about him is he’s more than a pretty face—his heart is pure and kind, and he’s the most caring person I know.
I lean my head against his shoulder and I know, rather than see, that he’s smiling.
We walk another block before he speaks. “Let’s go on a date tonight.”
I lift my head from his shoulder. “Like a real, actual date?” I raise a brow.
He grins. “You are my wife, so a date seems appropriate, especially considering we haven’t had one before.”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
He grins. “Good. Pick you up at six.” Then he winks.
I laugh. “Lucky you, you won’t have to go far to pick me up. Only the next bedroom.”
He chuckles. “I promise to knock on your door like it’s a real date.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I jest.
This, right here, feels good. It feels right. It feels real.
What does one wear on their first date with the man that’s actually their husband?
A skintight sexy dress, that’s what.
I put more effort into my makeup than usual and leave my hair down, the ends curling.
I slip my feet into a pair of strappy heels and admire my reflection in the floor-length mirror on my wall. I don’t get dressed-up often, but damn I look good—if I do say so myself.
I grab my clutch off my dresser just before a knock sounds on my bedroom door.
It’s six on the dot.
I swing the door open, and I can’t stop the smile when I see Xander. His hair flops over his forehead and he reaches up, pushing the shaggy strands back. Someone else might think he needs a haircut, but I like the look on him, along with the stubble on his cheeks. He’s dressed in a pair of gray pants with a blue button-down shirt tucked into them, and a black belt. He grins crookedly and pulls his hand from behind his back, revealing a single peony.
My favorite flower.
I gasp, shocked that he’d remember. I think it’s something I’ve only mentioned once, twice at the most, that I liked the flower. But he remembered.
“Thank you.” I take it from him. I inhale the fresh scent of the flower and try to hide the fact that I’m swooning. The boy is good. Too damn good.
“We better hurry,” he says. “We have reservations at Blanco.”
I gape. “That place is like crazy expensive.”
He shrugs. “You deserve the best.”
“I would’ve been happy with McDonald’s.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “That might be so, but we’re not having our first date at McDonald’s.”
“Is McDonald’s second date appropriate?” I ask as I step out into the hall and start down the steps.
His chuckle sounds beside me. “More like third date.”
“You ruin all the fun. Happy meals are the best.”
I head to the kitchen and find that the single peony I hold is actually a part of a much bigger bouquet that he already has in a vase. I turn around and smile at him.
“You’re good,” I say, slipping the flower into the vase with the others.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and lifts his shoulders. “I try.”
Prue brushes against my leg and I look down to find her standing between us, tail wagging.
“Aw, look at her.” I frown. “She wants to go with us.”
Xander bends and pets her. “Sorry girl, not this time,” he tells her. “We’ll be back soon.”
She looks at us sadly but pads over to her bed and lies down, like she knows exactly what he said.
“We should stop off on our way home and bring her some T-R-E-A-T-S.” I spell out the word, because Prue already knows what that word means, and if I say it out loud she’ll expect one right this second.
Xander smiles and swipes his keys from the kitchen counter. “We should,” he agrees, taking my hand and leading me out through the garage and to the driveway.
He unlocks his truck and opens the passenger door for me. I slip inside and he closes the door, jogging around and sliding into the driver’s seat a second later.