Page 223 of My Dark Prince
Briar Cooper:I’ll be there in twenty. If I show up to an empty table, I’m suing you all for emotional distress.
I’m turning into my mother.
Not in the sense that I’m jail bound, too broke to make bail. (The judge set it at $2M a pop, given her and Jason’s history of country hopping. With the evidence Seb and Ollie compiled, the only sunlight they’ll see in decades is from the inside of a prison yard.)
I did, however, pick up Philomena’s penchant for tardiness in the past few months, shuffling from LAX to Dulles like the lone beer pong ball in a crowded frat house.
The car doesn’t even cruise to a full stop before I swing the door open. I hobble out of the Bentley with only one heel on, waving goodbye to the driver. The scent of cinnamon and stuffing wraps around me like a warm hug.
Dallas’ twinkling laughter dances into the foyer. I’m tempted to dip into the dining room and sneak a peek. Instead, I dash up the stairs, knowing Oliver awaits me in his brother’s wing.
The second I’m past the baby gates, an arm slips around my middle and pulls me back into a hard chest.
“Missed you.” With a groan, Ollie nuzzles his nose into my neck. “You should’ve let me pick you up.”
I lean my head back onto his shoulder. “This is your first time hosting Thanksgiving dinner. You can’t disappear. Someone has to keep the pie safe from Dallas.”
“I’m not stepping between that woman and her spiced pumpkin pie with a bulletproof vest, a first-aid kit, and a new pair of running shoes.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I wish.” He holds my hair up, tracing a path up the nape of my neck with his lips. “She spent an hour ranting about the gingerbread crust. I was seconds from orchestrating a national emergency just to interrupt the broadcast.”
I jut my lower lip out. “Poor baby.”
“You should kiss it better.”
Without a warning, he spins me to face him and sears my lips with his, threading his fingers through my tangled hair. His tongue shoots out, coaxing my mouth open and tangling with mine. Shivers dart down my spine.
The kiss is soft, and his stubble is hard, and I want nothing more than to melt into him. He tastes like vanilla, brown sugar, andmine.The feel of him on me sinks deep into my bones. It’s like the first sip of hot chocolate on a snowy night.
This, I can’t help but think,is where I belong.
“If you two are gonna fuck on my property, at least roll out a blanket to catch the fluids.” That comes from Seb, tucked away in one of his many rooms. “There’s no housekeeping here.”
Ollie pulls back long enough to shout, “Take it up with your landlord. Oh, wait. That’s me. Request denied.”
I try not to giggle, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Hello to you, too, Seb.”
“Hey, BR.” Seb peeks his head out and salutes me. “I would say I missed you, but my Netflix suggestions finally got back to normal.”
My jaw drops. “It’smyaccount.”
He shrugs and dips back into his room without another word. No one knows about Seb, still. In fact, he only agreedto host the dinner here on the condition that we compensate him with leftovers and a $70K bow-mounted rowing shell.
Ollie kisses the tip of my nose. “We could’ve snuck in a quickie in the airport parking lot if you let me pick you up.”
“Airport security would’ve turned it into prison roleplay in no time.”
“Remind me again why you fly commercial?” He rests his forehead against mine. “Oh, right. The polar bears.”
These days, I split my time between Potomac and LA almost 50/50 with Oliver following me back and forth nearly every week. I even got him to fly commercial once, which he described as a complete assault on his personal space and dignity.
“Oh, right.” Ollie whips out a blue rose from his back pocket, tucks it into my hair, and leads me to a stack of boxes. “Pick your poison.”
Turns out, the packages I stumbled upon in the corridor leading to Sebastian’s wing aren’t Oliver’s hoarding problem rearing its ugly head. All these years, Ollie never stopped picking out gifts for me wherever he traveled. Now he lets me open a new one each time I return home.
“Hmm …” I tap my lower lip, pretending to think. “All of them?”
