A Tiara Under The Tree. Carolyn Hector
his arms. She tried not to stare too hard. He might as well have come with a neon sign that read DANGER. Excitement coursed through her veins.
Dominic leaned against the door frame with a pizza box propped within the crook of his arm and against his hip. A dangerous smile, accompanied with a quick wiggle of his brow, crossed his face. “You’re not Lexi.”
“This is her place,” Waverly explained. “Lexi is letting me crash here for a while.”
“Crash here for a while?” He frowned. “Is your place being painted or something?”
Waverly shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Are you volunteering or something?”
“Maybe the ‘something’ part.” Dominic licked his lips, and Waverly forgot about the howling in her stomach from a few minutes ago before pizza arrived. She stepped backward into the foyer of her apartment and caught a glimpse of her pink-tinted cheeks in the large gold-framed mirror by the door.
Waverly cleared her throat. “So, do you normally walk the halls with pizzas?”
“Oh, my bad.” He shoved the pizza toward her. “You haven’t looked at yours yet, have you?”
“I was about to sit down.”
“Right after the crowning?” Dominic asked and pointed toward the top of her head.
Heat filled her cheeks. She cocked her head to the side, untangled the combs holding her tiara in place and released her unruly hair. “Sorry, I was just...”
Dominic held up his free hand. “It’s okay. You had that second cupcake today—it was worth celebrating, I understand.”
Waverly decided not to expose her greed and tell him she’d eaten a total of three cupcakes today. “Thanks.” She laughed lightly. “You said something about a pizza?”
As if remembering the food in his arms, Dominic blinked and inhaled deeply while he nodded. “The delivery guy mixed up the apartment numbers. My sister lives across the courtyard and she’s going to kill me if I don’t leave her any leftovers. She only bought the one, even though I’m here to do a favor for her.”
With widened eyes, Waverly bobbed her head from side to side. She took a step forward into the hallway and peered into the steaming-hot box for a peek of a double-pepperoni pie. “I wonder what I got. What other pizza could there be?”
“Jesus, now more than ever I need to know your name,” Dominic groaned, pressing his hand against his chest. “At least I need to know your first name. Your last name isn’t necessary.”
She cocked her hand on her hip and laughed. “Why is my last name not necessary?”
“Because it’s about to change to mine.”
“At least let me hyphenate it,” Waverly responded with a laugh. “Waverly Leverve-Crowne.”
“As long as we can eat double pepperoni and cupcakes every day.”
How was she supposed to just take her pizza from him without offering some of hers? Waverly opened her door wider and waved him inside. Taking the cue, Dominic strolled in. His walk was cocky, and he was confidently aware of his sexual prowess. Waverly inhaled deeply and shook her head. Something about this seemed wrong...but when was she ever known to make the right decisions?
“The pizza is in the kitchen,” said Waverly. She walked passed him, bumping her shoulder against his hard biceps. Steam still rose from the cracks of the large square box. Stepping away from the kitchen gave herself the chance to realize she hadn’t been able to smell the spicy pepperoni. Now she caught a whiff of the Alfredo. Chicken Alfredo was good—on a plate of pasta. On a pizza? Waverly frowned. “Does your sister like you?”
Dominic came around the island bar of her kitchen. He set her box on the counter next to the fraudulent pizza. “Depends on her mood. I’m guessing she doesn’t tonight.”
“What a shame you don’t share things, because I feel so horrible for you not having a normal pizza.” Glad to be in the presence of someone who appreciated a classic pizza, Waverly grinned. She attempted to pull the box closer to her side of the counter, but Dominic held on to one corner with a finger and stopped her.
“Well, hold on now.” His left brow rose and matched the amused smile spreading across his handsome face. “Didn’t I say there were exceptions?”
“No, but I’m guessing one of them is for pizza?”
“For you,” he said with a wink, “I’ll make the exception.”
The line was corny, yet Waverly laughed—not just laughed but giggled. “I feel so honored.”
“Well, it’d be my honor to dine with the queen,” said Dominic, grabbing the tiara from her hand. A shocking overprotective sensation washed over her. This might have been what new mothers felt when someone held their newborn babies. The sparkly band looked so tiny and fragile in Dominic’s large, rough hands.
Waverly touched the crown with her fingers. Having it on top of her head was natural. With it off her head, she felt anxious. Tonight she’d planned on having a date night with herself. “Sorry,” Waverly mumbled and took the crown from his hand. She placed it back on top of her head where it belonged.
“Do you always wear a crown?” Dominic asked. He squinted his light brown eyes at her. “Was I so blinded by your beauty earlier that I didn’t notice?”
“No,” Waverly replied and moved toward the cabinets. She reached for the blue-and-white-patterned plates from the cupboard above the sink. She got up on tiptoe. Warmth oozed down her body when Dominic appeared behind her to help guide a plate down. Dominic took it from her hands and set it on the counter next to the one she had already taken out for herself. “I wasn’t expecting company this evening, and I’d already reserved a table for a pity party of one.”
“Now, what would a woman like you be doing with a table like that?” Dominic leaned against the counter as if he belonged there. And he did, as odd as it sounded. The blue Victorian accents on the cookie, flour and sugar jars in the kitchen made Dominic look like a bull in a china shop.
“If I told you, you’d think I’m crazy.” Waverly chuckled. She motioned for Dominic to have a seat at the counter with her. Dominic opened the large lid to the pizza. Pepperoni-scented steam rose through the air. “Would you care for a beer?”
For a moment Dominic pressed his hands to his bowed head. She wondered if he was religious and praying before his meal. “Dear Lord, thank you for bringing this woman before me. Smart, beautiful, seemingly sane if you don’t count the tiara and drinks beer? Not sure what I’ve done to deserve this, but thank you.”
Waverly shook her head. The left side of her face tightened with her half smile. “You’re crazy.” Quickly she grabbed two bottled beers from the door of the fridge and kicked it closed before returning to her guest. She set the bottles down as Dominic began to serve the pizza.
“Then we’re the perfect pair,” said Dominic. “One slice or two?”
“Are you going to judge me if I put two slices together for a pizza sandwich?” Waverly asked, adjusting her invention. In midserve, Dominic dropped a slice onto the floor, dug his keys from his front pocket and pretended to push himself away from the counter. Was he shocked? Turned off? “Too disgusting?”
“No, not at all.” He laughed. “I’m bringing you in front of the justice of the peace right now.”
“If Jillian wouldn’t have a fit, perhaps.”
“Who is Jillian?” Dominic asked. “Your mom?”
Waverly nodded and took her seat. “Yes.”
“I get it.” Dominic nodded and took a seat, as well. “She’d want to be there at our wedding.”
“Maybe so,” said Waverly. “I think she’d