I should put him out of his misery. “Give it to me, I’ll place it in the pantry. Even if she’s in the kitchen with us, she won’t have a clue.”
“Brilliant.” Ethan takes a few steps towards me and hands me the bag. He follows me all the way to the pantry as if he’s concerned I might get lost on the way there. Once I tuck Delilah’s gift behind a few packs of Kettle Chips sea salt and balsamic vinegar crisps, I turn to face Ethan. We stand there for a few short seconds staring at each other without saying a word until our lips fold upward at the same time and we both start grinning wide. It’s amazing how in sync we are. It’s like looking at myself in a mirror. “This is it,” he says. I simply nod. I won’t lie. I’m looking forward to this night as much as he is. We just have different ways of showing it. Ethan can get quite tense in these situations. I, on the other hand, am going with the flow. Every fiber in my body tells me that Delilah will be as excited as we are to strengthen our bond. Maybe that’s why I’m so easy-going about things.
“There are still a few more minutes left before she arrives. Why don’t we sit down and have a drink?” I suggest.
“I like the way you think. I definitely think I need a glass of alcohol.”
“Yes. You. Do.” Instead of answering, he just growls at me. I chuckle in response. I tap him on the shoulder and guide him to the kitchen island. Once we get there, Ethan slides on the stool and starts pouring the red I opened half an hour ago. He doesn’t even wait for me to take a seat. I raise my eyebrows, surprised by his impatience. “I had a sneaking feeling you’d need something to take the edge off.”
“Do I ever.” He rolls his eyes while shaking his head. “As much as I hate to admit it, you know me far too well. Today is one of those days where I’m happy we go way back.”
“Same here. There’s nothing quite like a bottle of Syrah to chill out.” Once Ethan has poured a generous amount of red elixir in our glasses, he slides mine across the counter. I grab it and lift it at eye level, waiting for him. “Thanks.”
“Cheers. Here’s to an evening that will change everything.” He toasts.
“Cheers. Here’s to the three of us becoming one,” I offer as a salute.
Something flashes in Ethan’s eyes as he takes in the weight of my words. “I like the sound of that, Xander.”
“That’s where we’re heading,” I remind him. He responds with a few quick nods.
Before dipping my lips into the wine, I grab the remote and click on the button to put on some music. Thank God for surround sound. It doesn’t take long for Ethan and I to sit back and mellow out.
“Nice,” he says, meeting my gaze.
“The wine?”
“The red you selected and the music that’s playing.”
“Both the wine and the singer are American. I brought the red back with me from California. The singer is Jana Thompson. She just launched a solo career after being a backup singer for some of the biggest pop stars. She was in the shadow for years and now it’s her turn to shine.”
“Are you opening the market for her here in the UK?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. Who knows? Maybe in the future. For now, she’s focusing on the American market, as she should. She was using some recording time at the same studio I was at when I was in Los Angeles a few weeks ago. That’s how I discovered her incredible voice. She might not be one of my artists, but she’s worth listening to.”
“I agree, she is,” he acquiesces. We sip our wine in silence while enjoying the catchy beat for a few minutes until the timer on the oven rings. “The appetizers are ready. We’re only missing one curvy Texan vixen.” You can hear the contentment in his voice.
I glance at the clock as I get up to make my way to the oven. “Not for very long.” No sooner have I dropped the piping hot plate on the counter than my doorbell rings. “She’s here.”
“Not a minute too soon.” Ethan grins from ear to ear. He jumps to his feet. “Come on, let’s go make her ours, mate.” He waves at me.
“I’m right behind you,” I cheer. We both eat up the floor as we stride towards my living room. Ethan stands back while I keep walking until I reach the front door. I grip the handle and swing the door open. I stop breathing for a beat. There she is, looking more beautiful than ever. My heart pounds like a drum at the sight of her. “My God, Delilah,” I let out, extending my hand to her to help her up the last step. The contact alone hardens my half-hard cock to full mast. I don’t even bother giving her a chance to speak. I move in, inexorable as the tide, flip her around before flattening her against a wall at the entrance with my body. I grab her by the back of the neck and take her painted lips. My kiss is slow, deep and passionate. She responds by melting in my arms like buttery cookies in a hot oven and moaning her desire into my mouth. When I break our embrace and take a step back, I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re all flushed, sweetheart.”
“God,” she pants. “You surely know how to say hello to a girl.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I mimic a bad American accent. Still, she humors me by giggling. “I have no intention of sparing you since I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. I know Ethan is as revved up as I am about tonight.”
She blushes. “Maybe it isn’t too late for me to hop back into that cab. If this is how the evening starts, I can only imagine how it will unfold.” You can’t even start to guess.
“Don’t you even think about it,” I warn. “I’d be a fool to let you run away from me when you look this incredible. Everything about your outfit screams wow.”
“Well, thank you, sir,” she says in an exaggerated Texan accent. “You like?” She twirls around.
She knows the answer to her question, but I’ll play along. “Let’s see. Your emerald-green embroidered flared dress was clearly designed to showcase your enviable curves. The way your tits peek through your décolletage makes me want to scoop them out of your dress so I can shamelessly suck on them. I have no doubt we were on the same wavelength when you selected your foot attire. Those super-high-heeled sandals in this flattering shade of satin champagne are definitely staying on when I fuck you or when your legs are dangling over Ethan’s shoulders—the night is still young, let’s play it by ear. And I have no doubt the lingerie you’re wearing is as cock-stiffening as the rest of the outfit. So to answer your question, yeah, I like it a lot.”
“I was expecting a yes or a no, Xander. You’ve given me more than I ever bargained for. You’re a master at boosting my confidence.” Her blue eyes sparkle when she speaks.
“You radiate. I just can’t let that slide.” I already know it’s going to be impossible for me to keep my eyes off of her all evening. Damn. “Come on, I don’t want Ethan to strangle me for keeping you all to myself.” I drag her into the living room towards my best friend. Ethan could have easily interrupted my moment with her, but he respects what we have so much that he allowed me those few intimate moments. As we approach him, I raise my eyebrows to say, Holy shit, she’s fucking hot. He responds with a quick nod. We exchange a look that clearly suggests we’re both very much aware of how important this moment is.
“I was so worried it was going to be too much.” She waves her finger the length of her body. “I know we’re staying in and all, but when Ethan mentioned it was a special night—and by the way, I don’t know what you have in mind, but I’m already giddy—I wanted to dress the part.”
“And you’ve done a smashing job at it.” I grin.
With only a few steps, Ethan is standing next to us. And here we are again, the three of us in this symbolic triangle. His eyes heat up as he takes her in. I’m sure that his astounded expression must match the one that was plastered on my face when I opened the door. “Xander’s right. You’re breathtaking tonight, love.” He leans down and drops a soft kiss against her lips. “Let me grab your bags and close the door,” Ethan suggests.
I guess I’m not so cool and collected after all. “Thanks, mate, I’m so mesmerized by her beauty that I totall
y forgot about her belongings.”
“You’re just saying that.” Delilah swats my chest.
“I’m tempted to answer that question by kissing the heck out of you again, but Ethan has a meal worthy of the Queen waiting for you. If I taste your lips once more, I know it won’t be enough for me. Suffice to say that things might get dirty real fast.” I wink. “It would be incredibly rude of me to rob him of his moment.”
“Not to mention that if I have to stand here and watch the two of you make out, I’ll have no other choice but to pull out my aching cock from my trousers and seek relief.” Ethan’s off-the-cuff remark surprises both Delilah and I. “Let’s eat first.” He purses his lips.
We all laugh.
CHAPTER 51
Delilah
What an insane evening. These guys are spoiling me rotten. Xander and Ethan have always been irreproachable hosts, but tonight, they’ve raised the bar to a whole other level. Everything has been meticulously planned. Xander’s lip-smacking appetizer was divine—I mean melted French cheese, crusty bread, potatoes and bacon? What more can a girl ask for? The main that followed nearly had me crying because it was that delicious. Don’t even get me started on the dessert. In my book, that raspberry trifle was a work of art. This was my first time tasting this classic British dessert, and let me tell you, it certainly won’t be the last. Let’s not forget the bouquet of breathtaking oriental poppies. The color combination is so eye-catching. Ethan revealed that the bright red-orange petals and deep purple hearts distinguish them from other flowers in the same family and make them stand out. He selected those with me in mind because of my flaming red hair and my blue eyes. I’m touched beyond words. So far, this night has been unforgettable. I can’t imagine what could top what I consider to be one of the most incredible evenings of my life.
“I’m not much of a cook and my baking skills are a joke, but this out-of-this-world dessert makes me want to run to the kitchen to start whipping some heavy cream, cracking eggs, whisking butter to creamy perfection and sprinkling colored sugar in an artful way like a freaking Food TV food challenge winner,” I say, licking my spoon.
“The visual is quite hilarious,” Xander says.
“I bet it is considering how much of a threat I am in the kitchen. The last time I tried to bake cranberry and white chocolate muffins at my place in New York, the alarm went off and everyone in the building had to be evacuated. There we were huddled on the sidewalk while we waited for the firefighters to arrive. Although I managed to put out the small fire that erupted in my oven, the entire floor was clouded with heavy smoke. I nearly choked trying to escape my apartment. My neighbors were giving me the evil eye. It was so embarrassing. I had no idea anything could burn to that level.”
“What happened?” Xander is doing his best not to laugh.
“I learned the hard way that online shopping and baking don’t mix. I got so caught up in beating another shopper on an eBay item that I absolutely had to have that by the time I remembered I had something in the oven, it was already too late.”
“I’ve never tried my hand at baking, but I’m sure I’d be in the same predicament had I tried.” The way Ethan cringes tells me that he’d rather have a root canal than be in the kitchen. It’s the same for me. “In any case, I’m thrilled you liked the dessert.”
“Liked?” I widen my eyes. “You mean loved. I’m too polite to lick the bowl to show my appreciation. That’s the level we’re talking about here.”
Ethan and Xander laugh.
“So the meal was up to your standards?” Xander teases.
“Puh-lease. How many times have I said, ‘Oh, my God,’ during the meal?”
“I stopped counting after ten.” Xander’s cocky grin is priceless.
“I can’t say that I’ve visited many catering houses in New York—not because that there’s a lack of them, it’s just that I never considered it. That said, I can’t believe you’re able to walk into a shop and buy a meal that rivals what you’d expect to find at a five-star restaurant.”
“We’re quite lucky here in London,” Xander says. “I suspect it’s the same in the Big Apple.” I have no doubt he’s right.
“Was it really your first time eating duck?” Ethan asks. He still can’t get over the fact that I’m a virgin at this.
“I swear on a stack of Bibles. And I have no clue why it’s taken me twenty-four years to discover how delicious this poultry is. I know people hunt it back home and I’m sure many eat it, but I’ve never had the pleasure until today.”
Ethan’s selection of the moist seared duck breast with port wine cherry sauce served with buttery mashed potatoes, caramelized onions and a medley of roasted vegetables was outstanding. The commingling of the rich flavors was like a symphony in my mouth. That menu truly hit it out of the park for me.
“Do you want any more trifle?” Xander asks, standing up.
I shake my head. “No, thank you, Xander. I’ve already had two servings. Any more and I’ll be too stuffed.”
“Ethan?”
“No, mate. I’m good. Thank you.”
“In that case, why don’t you keep Delilah company while I get us a few cognacs and I’ll get a Grand Marnier for our guest?”
“That’s a great idea.” Some unspoken message passes between the two of them before Xander exits the glass room. What are these two up to?
Ethan entertains me while Xander fetches our after-dinner drinks. I’m still laughing at a joke Ethan made when Xander reenters the room. He strides towards us and drops a round stainless-steel serving tray with handles in the middle of the table. On it, there are three balloon cognac glasses, each containing amber-colored liquor floating at the bottom. That’s not what captures my attention. The small hot pink gift bag with gold silk paper protruding from it renders me silent.
Xander places a glass and the bag in front of me. “These are for you, sweetheart.”
My eyes dart up to his before shifting to Ethan’s. I hope that they can hear my silent plea for an answer. When they just stare back at me, smiling, I find the courage to speak. “A gift?” I ask as if it isn’t blatantly obvious. They nod. “For me?” I know I’m repeating what Xander just said. Not to mention that my name written on the little card hanging from the gold ribbon should be a dead giveaway. I haven’t lost all my senses. It’s just that men aren’t usually this generous with me. Even though I don’t know what’s hiding inside the bag yet, my heart is already beating hard. They nod again. “Really?” I shriek, excited.
“Open it.” Ethan’s offer is too tempting to pass up. With rushed hands I pull out the silk paper and toss it to the side on the table next to me. I meet their eyes and smile wide. I can’t believe they did this. “You know there’s more inside the bag,” Ethan mocks.
“Funny.” I scrunch my nose. I stick my hand inside the bag and close my eyes. When my fingers touch a box, I gasp. Slowly, I pull out a dark blue box and just stare at the name engraved on it—Mikimoto. “I don’t recognize the name,” I say, embarrassed.
“It’s okay, you’ll definitely recognize what’s inside.”
I still hesitate, unable to open the pretty box. “I don’t know about this.” I’m blinking furiously.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan asks.
“This looks expensive.” I worry at my bottom lip.
“I’m afraid it is.” Ethan chuckles. Clearly Xander shares his friend’s amusement.
“You’re not helping, by the way,” I scold.
“Sweetheart, you have to open the box because we have something very important to ask you and we can’t do that until you take care of this first.” Xander drops his eyes to the box I’m cradling in my hands. Instead of sitting across the table from me like he has been all night, Xander pulls up the chair next to me and sits down. My eyes bounce from the box to Xander’s and then to Ethan’s. The vibe they’re giving off is so warm and tender it gives me shivers.
“Do you want me to help you?” Xander asks when he sees I’m
still frozen. I nod. I’m surprised at how fast my heart is beating. What have they done? He leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “I think we should also get Ethan to help. What do you say?” I nod again. The mere fact that he suggested that makes me even more nervous. What’s hiding in this box that would require such ceremony? Ethan pulls up a chair to my right and it’s now his turn to come sit next to me. Everything is getting so intense and I just can’t speak. Heck, I can barely breathe.
Xander takes the box from my hands and holds it up so that Ethan can lift the lid. When my eyes catch sight of the piece of jewelry resting against the padding, I start to panic. By the time I read the inscription on the lid of the box—Mikimoto, Cultured Pearls—I start to hyperventilate. Desperate for answers, my gaze meets Ethan’s.
“They’re pearls,” he answers. “To be precise, they’re black-lipped oyster pearls cultivated in the waters off Tahiti.”
“Oh. My. Freaking. God.” Finally, I find my voice. “Please tell me those are the plasticky stuff?” Perhaps not the best question for a moment like this one, but it’s what spills out of my mouth. Clearly, my brain is on leave of absence.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, love, but they’re not,” Ethan answers, amused.
“They’re gorgeous.” I exhale.
“We bought you this bracelet because we think it’s a true homage to what we share. There are three rows of pearls in different colors, black, silver and gray.” Xander points to each row as he calls them out. I nod at his words. “You’ll notice that the silver row is slightly different from the other two—every second pearl is divided by a small sphere of clustered diamonds.”
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