All right, so I may have used my threatening tone. Not that it did much good because I saw her weak attempts at schooling her expression to mask her smile. Because we are watching—wait for it—Disney’s Aladdin.
Yeah. There’s a reason I keep that Blu-ray disc in the enclosed section of my entertainment center and not on display for everyone to see. Hell, I know I should own up to it, but there’s still a part of me that’s like, What’s a former Navy SEAL doing with the special edition Blu-ray of an animated kids movie? Kinda screams “pussy.” The thing that changed my mind about denying it was mine was when Noelle asked if she could pick out a movie to watch and the way her face lit up the moment she discovered it in my collection.
Her eyes flew to mine, wide and sparkling with excitement. “You have Aladdin?” Before I could think to deflect, the smile she had given me was so sweet and earnest. “Can we please watch it? It’s one of my all-time favorites!”
There was no way in hell I could say no. Not when she looked at me like that. Her expression, so open with nearly child-like excitement struck something deep within me, making me wish I could be the reason for bringing that kind of happiness to her.
“All this for a loaf of bread?”
The sound of Noelle softly quoting the movie currently playing on my television draws me from my thoughts, my eyes coming to rest on her. She’s so relaxed right now, curled up on my couch, knees drawn up, head resting on the thick, cushioned part of the couch arm. My eyes drift over her form and end up resting on her feet, her toes painted a shade of light lavender. I’ve never been a feet guy, but I have to admit, hers are actually pretty cute. Makes me wonder if she’s ticklish.
“Don’t even think about it.” The warning draws my attention to find Noelle watching me suspiciously.
“What?”
“You had that look. And you were staring at my feet. I don’t like anyone touching my feet.”
She should know better than to say that to me. There’s no way to stifle my wicked grin. “Oh? So you’re saying I shouldn’t do, oh, say something like this?” My hand snakes out, lightning fast, grabbing her ankle and tugging her across the space separating us on the couch. Taking both ankles, locking them together in a hold with my arm, I use my other hand to brush the pads of my fingers against the bottoms of her feet.
She goes wild. Squirming, bucking, squealing and just all around making a huge fuss to the point where I had to let Harley know we were only playing when I noticed him getting agitated.
“It’s okay … boy.” My words are staggered because, shit, Noelle is far stronger than I expected and it’s taking some effort to restrain her legs so I don’t end up getting kicked in the face. “We’re … just … playing.”
The fact that I have to say this is telling since he’s never protective of anyone except me—and with good reason, of course. That’s the way he was trained. But, with Noelle, it’s like he senses that not only do I feel protective of her, but that she needs to be protected.
God, the way her laughter is intermixed with protests, her head thrown back against the couch cushions, her expression a combination of tortuous and just plain unadulterated delight is addictive.
“Fos—” she tries to push the word out between giggles and protests, “you have … to—”
When I hear the hiccups start, I cease because I know how those suckers can actually get to the point of being painful. Slowly, I release her ankles and she lies there on her back, breathing heavily, chest heaving, holding her stomach, eyes closed. When they finally reopen, we don’t speak, but I know—I feel the smile spread across my face.
“You vile betrayer.” She’s failing at masking her grin, and I detect a definite huskiness to her voice as she tosses out another quote from the movie.
“That’s Sultan vile betrayer to you.” At my words—at throwing a quote right back at her—her smile is unleashed, blasting me with the full power of it. It makes me feel dazed, almost bewildered at the fact that this powerful smile of hers is making it hard to breathe, my chest tightening in the strangest way.
It’s terrifying and dangerous, the fact that one woman is throwing me so off-balance.
As if she feels the sudden tension, she slides up into the sitting position, her words rushed. “I’m going to get a bottle of water. You want something? A beer, maybe?” Standing from the couch, she’s off like lightning, on her way to the kitchen.
“A beer would be great.” I follow suit, standing, recalling there’s a variety pack in the fridge so it’ll be easier to just pick one out myself.
“Which one do you want?” Her voice is slightly muffled. As I approach the kitchen, coming around the island, I see she’s slightly bent, reaching into the fridge for the beer, waiting on me to tell her which one to choose.