"That's right. And I know you like Alec, so you can stop looking at me like that."
Landon snorts into his food, and I give him a funny look. Why is he laughing?
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Wangford looks right at me, and I blink. I didn't say anything, did I?
She puts her fork down, leaning in her chair, and crosses her arms. "In what way am I looking at you?"
I cross my arms to mimic her, pretty sure I'm hallucinating this entire thing while we all sit in silence and eat. So I'm going to let my mouth run like I wish I had the guts to do in real life.
"You've passed judgment since the second I walked through that door. You don't know me well enough to do that."
"Okay, then enlighten me."
"I'm Elizabeth Fanning, grew up in Covington, Georgia, then moved to New York. I am much more than someone who sweeps floors at Bed Bath & Beyond."
"Oh?"
"Yes." The room is spinning. "I'm a cashier, too."
Elle laughs behind her hand. I think I like her, but I can't tell if she's laughing at me or with me, and it doesn't matter anyway because I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming.
"And I'm marrying your son because I love him. We're also really good at living together. But he keeps those damn socks on the floor. What is with that? So you should stop looking at me like I have some kind of ulterior motive. It's insulting, and I don't like it."
Check and mate. I lean back in my seat, but the back of the chair is nonexistent and I topple into Landon's side. He's grinning at me. Laughing.
Mrs. Wangford pushes her chair out and stands. "That reminds me. I have laundry to do for our day out tomorrow."
"Day out?" Huh, who, what? Why does my head feel puffy?
"Mom and Dad were going to show you and Landon around town." Elle hands me a napkin, and I look at it weird before she gestures to my chin and I wipe away whatever goo is there.
"So it was nice meeting you," Mrs. Wangford says. It's so not nice meeting me. She gestures to the dishes, and Mr. Wangford nods. Then she leaves the room.
"Did I do something?" I ask Landon. He's wearing his I-absolutely-love-you smile.
"I think we should go lie down."
"I concur." I wobble on my feet and wipe the drool stain Buster left on my pant leg.
"It was nice meeting you, Elizabeth," Mr. Wangford says, getting up from the table. Aww, I like that. Elizabeth. My dad calls me that, too.
He chuckles, and I wonder if I said that out loud, but the ground starts moving and I realize Landon's pulling me away from his family and into the hallway. Buster follows, sniffing at my sandal the whole way.
We get to the landing, where we're alone. Ah, it's about time. No pressure, just me and my Landy boy. Ha! Never called him that before. I don't think I like it. Yeah, that is so not his nickname.
Do I have a nickname for him?
Landon crooks a finger at me. I swallow a burp and lean in to him.
"I want to show you something."
"Landon, keep it in your pants."
He shakes his head. "Remind me to cut you off after one glass next time." His hand finds mine and he starts leading me up two flights of stairs. I trip and giggle behind him, following with a few hiccups that are beyond my control. Buster barrels up the steps with us, his tail whacking me in the legs. Silly canine. What a funny word … canine.
"Easy there, Tumbles," Landon says. His smile is so adorable. And even though he needs to trim it, his beard looks pretty good, too. Sexy papa right here. I'm so lucky I don't have to wonder what he looks like naked. I've seen all the goods and they are gooooood. Yummy, yummy, yummy, I got love in my tummy.
Landon laughs and I assume my mouth is running with my brain again, but I don't ask. I just want to kiss him. Kiss him so hard he'll give in and I'll get the Bahamas. We get to the second-floor landing and I toss myself at him.
"Kiss me!" I say through a giggle. Then my lips miss his by a lot, landing on his eye. He hits his head on the wall, and Buster woofs so loud it makes me scream.
Landon rubs the back of his head, and I can't tell his exact expression because I get hit with a major dizzy spell. My feet leave the floor, and my body goes on a bumpy ride. But I'm not falling. Don't know what's happening, but I'm super close to my sexy fiancé's face, so it's all right.
Fiancé. Another funny word. Feee-on-saaaaay. Snort.
"Time for bed, my fiancée," he says, and I grapple at the bottom of my shirt. Bed indeed. But firm hands stop me from stripping, and I blink up to Landon's eyes. "Not tonight. I doubt you'll remember losing the bet in the morning."
"Buuhtaacnotsfar."
"Gesundheit." He straps me in with the sheets and taps a pointer finger to my nose. "Go. To. Sleep."
I blow a wet raspberry in his direction, but the light goes out and my eyes fall closed.
Raspberry. That's a funny word.
Chapter 11
My burps taste like smoked plums. And morning breath. Where are my Ice Breakers?
I feel around, hitting some foreign object on my nightstand. Something crashes, rattling my skull. Holy mother of all pain.
Someone inhales deep and long next to me, strong and lean body stretching against mine. An enormous hard something pushes against my butt cheek, and if it didn't hurt so bad I'd laugh and accuse Landon of trying to cheat.
I groan at the time on the clock, cringe at the taste in my mouth, and croak out, "Water."
Landon lazily points at the nightstand, and I just now realize I'm not at home. We're not in our bed. And last night slowly filters in and out, making my headache ten times worse.
"Oh, balls," I say to the unfamiliar sheets. A sleepy smile grows on Landon's lips.
"You weren't that bad," he mumbles. "Pretty cute, actually."
I sit up and push my face into my knees. "Does your family hate me?"
"You won over the most important members." He shifts on the bed and pats at something at our feet. I peek up at Buster, who has sprawled himself across the sheets, head resting on my side. His pillow girlfriend is tucked under his front paws. I try to laugh, but it rattles my brain. So I just reach down and scratch the cute pup's ears.
Landon tugs on my arm, coaxing me back to the pillows. He looks way too happy for this early.
"What?" I ask, wiping at my face. He traces a line over my cheek.
"You have pillow marks."
"Sexy."
"Actually … it is."
I wrinkle my nose and then stretch out all the tense sleep-muscles. My boobs squish against his chest, and a low groan rolls through Landon's throat. His arm wraps around my waist while I let mine fall around his neck.
"You were unbelievable last night," he says, warm breath waving over my skin.
"Please tell me I didn't dance on the table."
"Better. You put my mom in her place."
"Shit."
"Not shit." His lips press into the hollow of my throat. "Hilarious. My girl has a backbone."
"I was drunk."
"You were adorable."
I silently chuckle as his kisses skate over my collarbone. "Really, drunk and lippy does it for you?"
"Drunk and lippy Lizzie does it for me." His nose trails up my cheek, his lips hovering over mine. I want to clamp my mouth shut so he doesn't smell my hangover breath, but the way he looks at me, no longer playful but intense and deep, has me breathing hot and heavy.
"To be honest, Liz, you do it for me."
I'm about to make a joke. Tell him I know he's going down on the bet. I have this in the bag. But I can't. Gone are my quips. Gone are my thoughts. Gone is any and all control as his mouth finds mine. He's soft as cotton candy at first, feathering and sweet, and has my heart pounding in my skull. His tongue slowly sweeps over the crease of my lips, and I open up for the soft caresses, so familiar but foreign all at once because he hasn't kissed me like this in so long. Angel butterflies flutter in wave after wave, steadily making their way to my lower abdomen.
My back slides along the sheets, pulling me into a more comfortable position with Landon on top. Buster growls, and I feel Landon push at him with his feet. But the silly dog won't budge.
"Buster," Landon grunts. I press my lips together to hold back my laughter as I watch him struggle. "Buster, move."
The pit bull shakes his head, making his ears flop and his collar jangle. He does this large yawn/growl/grunt thing and lies back down. Landon's the one growling now.
"Stupid … hundred pound … cock-blocker … " he pants as he continues to push the pudgy pup toward the edge of the bed. I struggle to breathe as Landon's weight shifts and thumps and bumps on top of me. Buster groans and slumps to the floor, and Landon brings his gaze back to me, letting his eyes drift up and down my body clad in his oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts that I don't remember getting into. He's not a bit fazed by the clear mood-killer. And good. That bodes well for me.
His lips return to mine as if he didn't just spend two minutes fighting the dog, still soft as a feather, teasing those butterflies out of hiding. His hairy legs rub against the smoothness of mine, tingling and tickling and causing my heart to explode right out of my chest. I love the contrast between us. Hard and soft, scruffy and smooth, tentative and impatient. I lock my hands in the sleeves of his shirt, forcing my fingers to behave themselves.