Everything: A Singed Wings Novel (25 page)

Her eyes grew wide at the last part of what I said. “Our reservations? You really planned something for us?”

Nodding, I looped my arm around her waist, and then in one sweeping motion, rolled off the bed, bringing her with me. “Yes, dear,” I teased, “I
really
planned something for us. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last ten minutes, and if you don’t get this cute ass,” I swatted her bare butt, “in the shower now, we’re gonna be late and mess it all up.”

A bright smile lit up her face as she lifted up on her toes to plant a kiss on my mouth. “You’re too much for me sometimes, Everett Templeton,” she confessed, rubbing her thumb over the weeks’ worth of facial hair covering my jaw. “But please don’t ever stop.”

“Never,” I promised.

My heart expanded inside my chest as I watched her sashay toward the bathroom, swaying her curvy hips for my viewing enjoyment. Glancing down at the rock-hard shaft jutting out from between my legs, I cursed under my breath then took off after her. Showering together would not only save time, but also help alleviate this problem that she’d caused.

With five minutes to spare, the taxi pulled up outside of a picturesque French-style house in the quiet, gated neighborhood of Villa Crespo, on the outskirts of the big city. I paid the driver and thanked him in Spanish, then stepped onto the curb and held my hand out for Belle to do the same.

Taking in the scenery around us, her eyes sparkled with wonder and curiosity. “Where are we? This place is incredible. But I thought we were going to eat?” she questioned, impatiently tugging on my hand. “Tell me what this is, Everett!”

“We are going to eat. This restaurant just happens to be inside a house,” I explained, as we walked up to the iron and glass front doors and I held one open for her.

Still appearing a bit puzzled, she stepped inside
i Latina
, a restaurant known for its fusion of unique Latin American flavors served as eclectic works of art on plates. The place had been featured on one of the food shows my mom always watched in the evenings, and when I saw it, I knew I had to bring Belle here. When I found out it was a “by reservation only” restaurant that was usually booked months in advance, it took a little finagling by Travis, my dad’s manager, but he somehow managed to get it worked out.

“
Buenos dias! Bienvenido a i Latina
,” a friendly older woman with salt-and-pepper hair greeted us as walked into the entry. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Templeton. We’re so happy to have you join us today.”

Belle and I exchanged a quick glance when she referred to us as a married couple, but instead of correcting her, we just went with the flow. There was no point in embarrassing her over something that didn’t bother me a bit.

“Yes, thank you so much for working us in.” I smiled my most charming smile as I nodded. “We’ve come hungry, so I hope you’re ready.”

“Of course! We have you all set up for the seven-course tasting meal, so perhaps I should say I hope
you’re
ready!” She laughed, then motioned for us to follow her into the heart of the restaurant, where only one other couple was situated on the opposite side of the room, close to the open kitchen.

Leading us to a small table near a window, the woman pulled out a chair for Belle, then once she made sure we were both settled, left to get our drinks. I stared at the stunning sight sitting across from me and again swore I must be dreaming. We’d first met nearly three months ago, and it had been over two since that lesson in the bathroom at Empty’s that changed everything. Each day that passed, we grew closer and I fell deeper. And today, I was going to tell her and pray to God it didn’t send her running for the hills.

“This place is insane! How did you even know about it?” she whispered, gazing at me like I’d hung the moon.

I shrugged coolly then told her about where I’d seen it and how it had immediately made me think of her. Just as I finished talking, the woman returned with a bottle of mineral water and a bread basket, followed by a younger guy who had two glasses of white wine that he explained went with the first two courses of our meal. Before the trip, I had only tried wine a couple of times at my house with my parents, and never cared for it. But here, the way it was served with all meals as an accompaniment to the food itself, it was part of the experience and I’d discovered there were a few I really liked.

The first course arrived as we talked about our favorite parts of the trip so far
— exploring La Boca for me, the tango lesson for her — and when she first noticed how the prawns were fanned out and garnished to make them look like a tropical flower, she inhaled a sharp breath and her pupils dilated.

“Oh, my God, look at it!” she exclaimed, pointing at the food. “It’s too beautiful to eat!”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “Impossible. I eat the most beautiful thing in the world as often as I can.”

Her cheeks flamed a bright pink as she dropped her gaze to the table. “Everett!” she hissed.

“What?” I asked innocently, as I stabbed one of the jumbo shrimp with my fork and lifted it to her mouth, teasing her lips with it. “Come on, open up. You know you want to.”

She grumbled and pretended for a few seconds that she wasn’t going to before her lips parted and she allowed me to feed her. “Mmmm,” she moaned, and closed her eyes while she chewed, and by the time she’d swallowed the first bite, I was thankful that I had six more courses to get through to lose the raging boner I was sporting in my jeans.

A couple of hours later, we left
i Latina
with happy faces and full bellies
,
both agreeing that we’d just experienced the best meal of our entire lives, and climbed into the back of the taxi I’d called, heading for the second part of our excursion — the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes.

“You’re taking me to the museum?” she asked keenly, after hearing me tell the driver where to go.

“Of course I am.” I grinned, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to me. “I couldn’t let you come all the way to Argentina and not go to one of the top ten museums in the world. I’m surprised you hadn’t asked to go yet, honestly. I was prepared to make excuses to hold you off until today.”

She giggled, peeking up at me through her long dark lashes. “I wasn’t going to request a thing. I’m just having fun being here with you and your family. Thank you so much for asking me to come with you.”

My chest pinged with that feeling… that one that seemed to be happening more and more when I was with her. And even though I had this elaborate plan to tell her how I felt in front of a specific painting inside the museum, I couldn’t wait another minute.

“I couldn’t imagine being here without you,” I admitted, dropping my forehead to rest on hers, our eyes locked in on each other. “I’m not sure what in the world I did to deserve you, Belle, but I don’t plan on letting you slip away.”

“Then don’t,” she whispered.

My lips grazed hers once, twice, three times, before murmuring, “I’m falling hard, beautiful.”

“I’m already there to catch you, rockstar.”

I FLOATED AROUND
the room on cloud nine as I got dressed for the gala, never wanting to wake up from this dream I found myself in. From the moment I’d gotten inside that SUV, it was like I’d been swept away to some alternate universe, where I flew first-class with my hot boyfriend and his famous family
— who I adored because of how normal they were, traveled with bodyguards — though I didn’t even notice them until the second day, stayed in luxury suites at posh boutique hotels — the Templeton’s did not fuck around with their accommodations, and visited historic places I never in a million years thought I’d see, much less be getting private tours of.

And then today, the extent that Everett had gone to for planning something special for me — the one-of-a-kind lunch experience, the things he eluded to in the taxi, and then finally, that moment in the museum — I was a goner. Game, set, match. He’d won my heart completely, and I didn’t ever want it back.

“Tell me what you know about this one,” he prompted, as we moved to the next painting displayed in the massive exhibition hall, surrounded by piece-after-priceless-piece of art.

I looked up at the familiar picture and smiled confidently. This was the one I most wanted to see here. “
The Surprised Nymph
painted in 1861 by Edoaurd Manet — the same guy who did
The Absinthe Drinker
that we saw in San Antonio,” I spouted off proudly.

He scooted me in front of him and looped his arms around my center, my back flush against his front. “What else?”

Sifting through the copious amounts of dates and facts and crap in my head, I said, “This was his first female nude, which was rejected by the Salon Paris for being too scandalous. The subject was his girlfriend at the time, and would later become his wife. This was the only time he painted her in a state of undress.”

Everett lowered his head and traced his lips around the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Did you know she was his piano teacher?” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin.

“Now that you mention it,” I tilted my head slightly to the side to give him better access to my neck, at this point oblivious to anyone else around us, “that sounds about right. I remember her name was Suzanne.”

“Do you also remember that he was only seventeen when they met?” He kissed his way over to my shoulder as the bulge in his jeans pressed into my lower back. “And that he called it La Nymph, because he viewed her as a goddess gifted to him from the heavens? A woman made just for him, so beautiful and captivating that he couldn’t possibly resist her.”

“Sounds like someone did their homework,” I whispered, trying my best to ignore the desire blazing between my legs and my pounding heart. I would never be able to look at a Manet painting again and not think about Everett. He was forever embedded in my life. In my heart.

“Always when it comes to you, Belle,” he rasped. “Always for the girl I love.”

Spinning around in his arms to face him, emotions exploding in my chest like a fireworks spectacular, I lifted as he lowered and our mouths met in a kiss that made me tingle from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. A kiss so much better than good that Nicholas Sparks would’ve been jealous of our chemistry.

“I love you too, rockstar,” I grinned up at him as we broke apart, “but if we can end the Everett and Edouard similarities there, that’d be great. I don’t want you dying of syphilis when you’re fifty.”

He laughed a deep belly laugh, and mumbled, “Such a smartass,” as he grabbed my waist and twisted us around to face a guy with an expensive-looking camera off to the side. “Smile, beautiful. I want this to be a day neither of us ever forgets.”

My expression had to be as surprised as Suzanne’s in the painting, completely taken aback by the lengths he’d gone for me. For us. Proving to me that he was worth the risks. Love was always worth it.

After the photographer snapped a few shot of us in front of the timeless Manet masterpiece, Everett laced our fingers together and pulled me along to the next artwork on display. “Come on, Tinker Bell. We need to finish up so you can go back to the room and put those wings on for me. And nothing else.”

“How long do I have?” I asked, as I pulled my dress from the closet, glancing over at Everett, who was sitting on the couch, ready to go in his Armani tuxedo, flipping through the TV stations.

He checked his phone then looked back at me, grinning lewdly at my half-dressed state. “Five minutes. Can you make it? Or do you need me to text my mom that we’re running a little late?”

When we’d gotten back to the room earlier, all of the food, wine, and walking around the museum had caught up with me, and my planned one-hour nap turned into an hour-and-a-half, which was why I was running around frantically trying to get ready.

“Nah, I can do five minutes,” I said, stepping into the dress and shimmying it up over my hips. “I’ll be right back.”

Hurrying into the bathroom, I pulled the zipper into place then did a double-check of my hair and makeup. The French twist was simple yet classy, as was the solid black sequin gown that haltered around my neck, leaving the majority of my back exposed. I applied another thin coat of the red lip gloss then slid my feet into the sparkly black high-heeled sandals.