Cleaning up dinner was a strangely intimate experience. Our elbows brushed several times. Amiable silence descended as we washed the dishes, side by side. My cheeks felt flushed. My thoughts were way too giddy.
Too much wine.
I followed Daemon into the foyer afterward. He moved the large box to the living room without touching it. It sort of jingled. Sitting on the edge of the couch, I folded my hands and waited, having no clue what he was up to.
Daemon opened the box, reached inside, and pulled out a green-needled branch and poked me with it. “I think we have a Christmas tree to put up. I know it’s not during the parade, but I think Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving special is on, and, well, that’s not too bad.”
That was it. The lump in my throat was back, but there was no stopping it this time. Jumping from the couch, I raced out of the room. Tears formed, then slid down my cheeks. Emotion clogged my throat as I wiped under my eyes.
Daemon appeared in front of me, blocking the staircase. His eyes were wide, pupils luminous. I tried to turn away, but he quickly enveloped me in his strong arms. “I didn’t do this to make you cry, Kat.”
“I know,” I sniffled. “It’s just …”
“It’s just what?” He cupped my cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. My skin tingled from the contact. “Kitten?”
“I don’t think you know how much…something like this means to me.” I took a deep breath, but the stupid tears kept falling. “I haven’t done this since—since Dad was alive. And I’m sorry to cry, because I’m not sad. I just didn’t expect this.”
“It’s okay.” Daemon tugged me forward, and I went. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as I buried my face into the front of his shirt. “I get it. Good tears and all.”
There was something warm and right about being in his arms. And I wanted to deny it, but for the first time, I stopped—I just stopped. Even if Daemon saw me as one giant Rubik’s Cube he had to crack or if it was the healing mojo, it didn’t matter. Not right now.
I grabbed a handful of his shirt and held on. He may have thought he knew how much this meant to me, but he really didn’t. Daemon would never know.
I lifted my head and reached up, clasping his smooth cheeks. With his help, I brought his lips to mine and kissed him. It was a quick and innocent kiss, but I felt the zing all the way to my toes. I pulled back, breathless. “Thank you. I really mean it. Thank you.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek, smoothing the last of my tears away. “Don’t let anyone know about my sweet side. I have a reputation to keep up.”
I laughed. “All right, let’s do this.”
Trimming a Christmas tree with an alien was a different experience. He moved the recliner out from in front of the window with a jerk of his chin. Bulbs hung in the air along with twinkling lights that weren’t plugged in.
We laughed. A lot. Every so often I’d get choked up when I thought of Mom’s face tomorrow afternoon. She’d be happy, I thought.
Daemon dropped silvery tinsel on my head while I plucked a bulb out of the air. “Thanks,” I said.
“It kind of fits you.”
The scent of artificial pine filled the living room. The holiday spirit woke inside me like a slumbering giant. I grinned at Daemon and held up a bulb that was so green it almost matched his eyes. I decided it was going to be his bulb.
I placed it right under the twinkling star.
It was almost midnight by the time we finished. Sitting on the couch, thigh against thigh, we stared at our masterpiece. The tree was a little tinsel-heavy on one side, but it was perfect. A rainbow of colored lights shimmered. Glass bulbs glimmered.
“I love it,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good.” He leaned in to me, yawning. “Dee put up the tree this morning. She has to have everything the same color, but I think our tree looks better. It’s like a disco ball.”
Our tree. I smiled, liking the sound of that.
He bumped me with his shoulder. “You know, I had fun doing this.”
“I did, too.”
Daemon’s lashes lowered. Man, I’d kill for a set of those babies. “It’s late.”
“I know.” I hesitated. “You want to stay?”
A single brow arched.
That hadn’t come out right. “I don’t mean that.”
“Not that I’d complain if you did.” His gaze dropped. “Not at all.”
I rolled my eyes, but my tummy was coiling tight. Why had I offered for him to stay? His assumption wasn’t too far off. Daemon didn’t strike me as the type to dig PG-13 slumber parties. I remembered the last and only time we’d shared a bed. Flushing, I stood. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t…I didn’t know what I wanted.
“I’m going to get changed,” I said.
“Need help?”
“Wow. You’re so chivalrous, Daemon.”
His smile widened, flashing deep dimples. “Well, the experience would be mutually beneficial. I promise.”
No doubt it would be.
“Stay,” I ordered, then hurried upstairs.
I quickly changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a pink thermal. Not the sexiest sleepwear, but as I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I decided it was the best choice. Anything else would give Daemon ideas. Hell, a paper sack would encourage him.
I left my bathroom and stopped. Daemon had not stayed. My smile slipped from my face.
He was standing by the window, his back to me. “I got bored.”