by Lucy Score
She was climbing the final steps on the third flight of stairs to her apartment, still thinking about what she should wear when she spotted it on her door. A big, glittery heart taped to the center.
Pick you up at 7.
Exactly what kind of date was this going to be, she wondered, fingering the lacy edge of the heart. She couldn’t wait to find out. Digging through her purse, Gloria pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the heart.
Gloria: What’s a girl supposed to wear to a glitter heart date?
He responded as she was unlocking her front door.
Aldo: I hope you don’t mind, but I took care of that, too. Look inside.
Gloria couldn’t get the door open fast enough. She’d given him a key as much for romantic relationship purposes as for convenience’s sake. Apparently, it had paid off big.
There was a garment bag hanging from her bedroom door with another red heart.
Wear me, please.
Giddy ramped up into ecstasy. Gloria dumped her purse and coat in a heap on the floor and ran to her bedroom. “What are you?” she asked, unzipping the bag so fast that she could have lost a finger. “Oh, my!” Chiffon, in a lovely soft rose, exploded out of the bag. Gloria worked the dress off the hanger and nearly swooned. The skirt was chiffon and light as air, but the bodice glittered like diamonds with hundreds of silver sequins over a sheer lining.
It was breathtaking and, with a quick peek at the tag, her size.
On a girlish squeal of delight, Gloria wrestled her sweater over her head and headed in the direction of her bathroom, the dress clutched to her chest.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, opening the door before Aldo could even knock. She didn’t know if he answered her or not because she’d been struck dumb by the man in the tuxedo.
“Holy crap,” she breathed.
“You look incredible,” Aldo said, taking her in. She indulged them both with a little twirl.
Her phone pinged.
Harper: Where is he taking you???
It pinged again.
Sophie: I want a detailed timeline of everything you two do tonight! With pictures! And video!
Another ping.
Mom: What shoes are you wearing?
Her lady posse was on red alert tonight. Gloria turned her phone off and dumped it on the table inside the door. “Um, come in. You look like James Bond. Only hotter.” And she was doling out awkward compliments like she was a shy sixteen-year-old.
Aldo took her hand and twirled her once more. “You take my breath away.”
There went the swooning again. Gloria had to lock her knees in place so the traitors wouldn’t give out on her again.
“Thank you.” She managed to get the words out without choking on them. “Could you help me zip my dress? I couldn’t quite reach.”
He took his time turning her away from him, and she melted at the decadent touch of his palm gliding over bare skin. Slowly, he tugged the zipper up, holding her by the waist with his other hand. Every touch was a seduction. And Gloria was more than willing to be seduced.
“We could stay in,” she suggested, running her hands over his lapels.
Who knew she had a thing for tuxes?
He grinned at her, and her panties went up in flames. She couldn’t wait to get into the dress, and now she was ready to beg him to take it off of her.
“I didn’t lint roll my pants three times to get all the cat fur off of them just to stay in tonight,” he said, dipping his head. His lips brushed hers gently. The sound that came from the back of her throat was positively carnal.
Aldo took a deep breath and a step back. He scraped a hand over his jaw, his erection straining at the front of his trousers. It was the sexiest thing Gloria had ever witnessed in her life. Impressive, considering she’d seen the man naked on multiple occasions.
“Where could we possibly be going dressed like this?” Gloria laughed, fluffing her skirt.
“Ah, but you’re not quite dressed yet,” Aldo countered. He produced a small box from his pocket and with a quirk of his lips, popped the lid.
Diamonds glittered on satin. At least she thought they were diamonds. Glass didn’t shine like that. Earrings, each with five spokes that wrapped around and under the ear from a single point.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed.
“Do you like them?” he asked.
She nodded, eyes wide, not sure words would do her gratitude justice.
“I saw them, and they reminded me of you. Cool, classic, with a lot of sparkle.”
“Aldo, I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever…” Of course no one had ever given her anything like that. They both knew it.
“It’s too much. I don’t want you bankrupting yourself to give me things.”
His snort caught her attention. “What?” she demanded.
“Glo, money isn’t an issue.”
“I know you have your business,” Gloria said. “But you don’t need to be spending it all on me.”
“I’m a partner in a comfortably successful business. Luke and I happen to hold the patent on a fancy little joist system that turns a decent profit.”
“Decent profit?” But she was waving her hands. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. It’s none of my business.”
“I want you to have beautiful things, Glo. I hope you’re okay with accepting gifts because this was the most fun I’ve ever had shopping. I pictured you looking just like you do now.” His voice was rough, but the words felt like a caress.
“Aldo,” Gloria clutched a hand to her heart. “You make it hard to breathe.”
He beamed at her, that boyish grin that she recognized from her ninth-grade study hall. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t the broken woman anymore either. She was someone new.
70
He’d worried that the limo was too over-the-top, but when Gloria gasped and grabbed his arm, his regrets went out the window. Then she’d insisted he take a picture of her hanging out the sunroof, and he knew he’d done good.
They drank champagne behind tinted windows and talked about their days as if it was common for them to spend their Friday night in the back of a limo. Gloria reveled in pushing each and every button she could find. Opening and closing the sunroof, opening and closing the minibar, changing the lighting from white to purple to swirling disco.
And Aldo enjoyed every second of it.
She’d never had a prom. Another rite of passage stolen from her. Another memory for him to make with her. When Sara suggested romance, Aldo put some serious thought into it. He’d never been a big romance guy. Had never gotten serious enough with someone where romance was required. But Gloria deserved this. And seeing her enjoy herself, seeing her bloom with happiness, made him wish he’d thought to do this sooner.
They arrived at their destination, and Aldo helped her out of the back seat.
“Thank you,” Gloria said to the driver who held the door. “Where are we?” she asked, studying the building before them.
Aldo gave a nod to the driver, who winked at him.
“This is the Breeches Creek Mill,” Aldo said, tucking her hand through his arm and leading them up three short steps to the door. He turned the knob. “It’s being renovated for event space. I happen to know the owner who owes me a favor. So their first event is your prom.”
He had to give them credit. He’d stolen every associate and intern his firm had, paid them each an extra hundred bucks for the day, and given them an unlimited decorating budget. Jamilah had groused about an entire day’s worth of work lost until Aldo sent her off to the massage and pedicure he’d scheduled for her.
She’d texted him hours later after too many complimentary champagnes to tell him he was the best business partner in the world.
“This. Is. Insane.” Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Gloria stepped inside.
There were fairy lights roped around the thick, rustic beams above them. Flowy white panels hung from the rafters to the oak floor. Th
ere was music playing softly on a speaker tucked away between potted palms and pines. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace on the far wall, and a pretty sign that said simply PROM rested on the mantel.
A table, also swathed in white, was set for two with more champagne chilling in a bucket. On one of the plates sat a sparkling tiara.
“Aldo…” It was as far as she got because she was crying.
“Sweetheart.” Gently he pushed her into the chair and pulled out a handkerchief to dab her eyes. “Please don’t cry.”
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, eyes glistening. “I love you for it. Screw it. I love you. I’ve been not saying it for a while now—since the laundry—and…now…” she gestured around them. “I just love you. I love you so much.”
Aldo found himself in the predicament of feeling a little choked up, too. Okay, a lot choked up.
They’d come so far, the two of them. He wanted to ask her right then and there. To talk about the future, make decisions, set goals.
But Gloria deserved this night of no strings.
He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump. When he opened his mouth, no sound came out.
“Oh, hell. It’s too soon,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “Shit. You did this amazing thing, and I screw it all up by being all ‘I love you.’’ And now I made it weird—”
“Gloria, will you please shut up so I can tell you that I don’t remember ever not loving you?”
“What?”
“I love you, Gloria. I’m in love with you.”
“Really?” she squeaked. The tears were back again. “Because if you’re messing with me or saying it back because I said it first, I’m going to kill you. Like run you over with a limo kill you.”
“How could I not love you after a threat like that?” He kissed her, his mouth eagerly seeking hers out. Branding his lips to hers. She kissed him back like she was starving for him.
“Wait, wait.” He pulled back.
“What is it?” Her lids were heavy, lips plump, and Aldo couldn’t remember ever seeing anything sexier in his life.
“This.” He plucked the tiara off the plate and settled it on her dark hair. She went from bewitching fairy to seductive queen.
She looked at him for a beat, lips parted. “Aldo, take your pants off.”
They stripped with more speed than finesse. But when Gloria straddled his lap on the chair wearing nothing but the tiara, Aldo knew lust. And when she positioned his cock at her entrance and sank down on him, taking him in inch by fucking inch, he knew love.
She watched him through pleasure-heavy eyes as she rode him by fire and fairy light. Gentle, smooth strokes. He touched her everywhere, wanting to memorize the feel of the moment as much as the look of it. The kisses he pressed to her lips, her jaw, her breasts, weren’t enough.
The feel of her skin under his palms and busy fingers wasn’t enough. Every time she rose, he felt desolate only to be plunged into ecstasy, completeness, when she took him back in. She rode him leisurely, loved him decadently. And he worshipped her.
He tasted the tip of her breast, stroked the side of her face, her neck. And felt it build between them. The pulse in her throat hammered away. Aldo lifted her arm, tracing his thumb over the birds in flight. He knew what they were flying toward, what they were migrating to.
She touched the birds over his heart with two fingers, traced them as her breath grew shallow.
He loved her. She loved him. It was that simple. Their bodies loved and moved together with one mind, one purpose.
He wanted to devour her and be devoured. He wanted to give Gloria a piece of his soul. And then he realized he already had.
She was tightening around him, sighing into his mouth, and he felt it welling up inside him, climbing his spine. Pleasure and love intertwined into something different, something invincible, something that burned brighter than history and carved a way into the future.
Their lips met, their bodies shook, their hearts blended.
And when they finally shared their first dance much, much later, it was naked in the firelight.
71
Thanksgiving was here and giving Gloria big, mixed feelings. On one hand, she was looking forward to her first real holiday with Aldo. Halloween didn’t count. Not when they’d spent the evening judging the jack-o-lantern carving contest on Main Street. On the other, her mother was out of town on her annual Caribbean cruise with friends. A tradition that Gloria realized had started to help Sara forget about her estranged, abused daughter and the holiday they should have been enjoying together.
“I promise to change the date next year, mija,” her mother swore when Gloria dropped her off at the airport.
“Don’t you worry about me,” Gloria told her. “We’ll celebrate when you get back.”
While Gloria would have preferred a cheerful, cozy Thanksgiving at her mother’s house, she was willing to settle for second prize: Thanksgiving at Harper and Luke’s.
Her first real-life big, family holiday. Gloria was honest enough with herself to be glad someone else was hosting. Sure, she’d fantasized about being the hostess with the mostest someday, but that day was not today. Harper, however, felt no such qualms about hosting a million people for her first time cooking for the holiday. Where lots of things still made Gloria nervous, nothing scared Harper.
They arrived bearing gifts. Gloria had the pretty floral centerpiece she’d made of short orange and peach roses arranged in neat rows, planted garden-style in a low, rectangular box and accented with glossy greenery. Mrs. Moretta carried a box of wine under one arm, and sweet, thoughtful Aldo brought up the rear with an array of specialty dog biscuits for Max and Lola.
Ivan the Terror was at home with a belly full of special turkey treats and his new stuffed drumstick.
They disbanded at the doorstep, Gloria and Mrs. Moretta following Joni back to the kitchen where female voices were raised and the heavenly scent of comfort food wafted. With a wink and a kiss, Aldo peeled off to the living room for football and beer with the menfolk that included Ty, James, Charlie, and Luke.
Gloria found Harper in the midst of chaos. She wore an apron and snapped orders like a chef in a wildly popular Manhattan restaurant on a Saturday night. Claire was running a hand mixer through an obscenely big bowl of potatoes. Sophie was wrapping foil packets of vegetables to roast on the grill. Harper was directing everything else.
“Joni, baste the turkey! Gloria, those flowers are gorgeous. Put them on the table. Mrs. Moretta, I need wine STAT!”
Gloria headed into the dining room to admire the table. It was funny. The last time she’d been in this room, a man had tried to kill her friend. A man who’d been there because of her. She looked down at the floor, the spot where she’d hit him and he’d gone limp. It hadn’t been the first time she fought back, the first time she’d hit him. But it would be the last.
“They did a good job with the door and window.”
She turned, spotted Luke in the doorway holding a bottle of beer loosely in his fingers.
The dining room window, the heavy front door, both had been replaced. “It was a scary night,” she admitted.
“Sometimes the past catches up with us,” he said hollowly.
It was an odd thing for him to say. Like he had something else entirely on his mind. “Yeah. I guess so,” she agreed.
Luke looked…weary. Not at all like a man who was surrounded by family and friends. A man home for good with the people he loved the most. He looked tortured. Lola rumbled into the room and leaned heavily against Luke’s leg. He leaned down to give her a good scruff behind the ears. “Pretty girl,” he murmured.
Lola sneezed in appreciation.
“Listen, Gloria,” Luke said, straightening up to his full height. “Can I give you some advice?”
He was drunk, she realized. Or buzzed enough to slur a little.
She nodded wondering what would make Luke Garrison drink to excess
when he was living what to so many others was only a dream.
“Don’t make the same mistake twice. What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and then expecting a different result? Sooner or later, everyone has to face facts. A mistake is a mistake. No matter how good everyone else tries to tell you it is.”
There was a burst of laughter from the kitchen, and Luke’s expression darkened. His exit was as abrupt as his entrance.
“What the hell was that?” Gloria murmured to herself.
Gloria doubted anyone else noticed it. But Luke and Harper sat at opposite ends of the table. Harper spent more time pushing the food she’d worked so hard on around her plate than eating it. Gloria pushed it out of her mind and focused on the rest of the festive guests. Laughing when Aldo spoon-fed her stuffing and when Mrs. Moretta and Sophie argued about organic vegetables. James and Ty made a show of going back to the kitchen for seconds and thirds.
The food was good. The company—most of it, at least—was even better. Aldo squeezed her leg under the table. The spark in his eyes told her he had plans for dessert later. She surprised them both by leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
Gloria gave a little shrug. “Guess I’m feeling thankful for you.”
As the action died down around the table, Joni cleared her throat. “I just wanted to thank Harper and Luke for inviting me today. It’s been a hard few years, and it means so much that you still treat me like family. It’s good to be reminded of what’s really important in life, and you all have done that for me. So thank you for that. And Happy Thanksgiving!” She raised her wine glass.
Everyone raised their wine glasses. “To family,” Charlie said, winking at Harper.
“To family,” everyone echoed.
Everyone except Luke, who stared morosely into his empty glass. Gloria nudged Aldo and nodded in Luke’s direction. “What’s going on with Luke?” she asked in his ear.
