“Oh.Oh.We’re a couple.” A big smile spread on her tired face. “I’m in acouplewith you.”
“You have thirty minutes to get ready. I’ll pick you up by the stairs at eight.”
“Oh shit,”I hissed and closed my eyes for a second, willing my pulse back into its regular rhythm. One look at her and I was going into cardiac arrest.
“You didn’t tell me how to dress. I had to wing it.” She grinned down at me from the middle of the stairwell. “I’ve never been on a date with anyone else.”
“And you never will be,” I said and held my hand out for her, “but feel free to put this on for any of our future dates.”
“You like?” She did a wobbly little twirl at the bottom of the stairs. Her shiny light pink dress was almost the exact soft shade of her skin, except for its blue seams. It hugged her chest tight like a corset, while its skirt flared out. As she twirled, that tiny little skirt lifted just enough for me to catch a look at a pair of lacy white fabric underneath.
“Yeah, baby, I like,” I huffed, feeling the heat rush down my center.
Cordelia giggled and raised her brows at me.
“What did I say?”
“I’m usually a lot less dressed when you call mebaby.”
Not that I’d noticed it, but considering her panties had been on my mind when I’d said it, she was probably right.
“Let’s go before I decide to show you just how much I like that tiny dress.”
“Do I need shoes?” Cordelia wiggled her fuzzy socked toes at me.
“No, you’ll be fine.”
I led her through the kitchen and the winter garden filled with paintings. She already narrowed her eyes at the backyard through the windows. Before she could start puzzling it out, I swept her up into my arms. No need for her to get those socks dirty.
She laughed as I carried her over to the pond and set her down on the picnic blanket on the lawn. I didn’t even get a word out before she dropped to her knees and started fumbling with the waiting cooler box.
“Are we having ice cream?”
“No.” Her excitement almost made me wish I did have ice cream in there. “Careful, don’t tip it.”
Kneeling behind her, I released the little plastic snaps on either side of the box.
“Can I open it?” She clasped her hands together. So giddy, it was beyond cute. It triggered a weirdly possessive, violent response in my brain - and I nipped at her bare shoulder to get the tension out somehow.
“Mm-hmm,” I agreed without easing my teeth off her skin.
“I’m being careful,” she reassured me and gently lifted the lid off. “Is that-”
“Fish.”
“Fish?” Her fingers trembled when she lifted one of the plastic bags from the box and held it up against the last rays of sunlight. The bright orange goldfish inside whirled around.
“The pond should be ready for them to move in.”
“What do I do?” Cordelia looked over her shoulder at me, eyes big.
“We let the plastic bags float and add some pond water every ten minutes.”
“I can’t believe you got me fish.” She beamed and handed me the first bag before lifting another one from the box. “Are they all goldfish? Do they need specific foods? Or plants? I have to go grab my phone.”
“Why do you need your phone?” I asked and held her by the elbow before she could get up with a plastic bag in each hand.
“Because the water needs to have a certain pH-level, right?”