Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! I thought we’d celebrate with a book sale (details about the sale is at the end of the post) and a short story featuring two guys you know by now: Iggy and Ronan from Awakenings & French Songs.
I hope you all have a great day, and I hope that you enjoy this little sneak peek into Iggy and Ronan’s future. ❤️
Valentine’s Day & French Songs
“What’s all this?”
Ronan’s voice startles me out of my close inspection of our dinner table, and I squint at him. “What does it look like?” I bark, cross my arms over my chest, trying to hide the nervous flutter in my stomach.
He steps closer to the table; his eyes taking in the flickering tea lights, the fancy place settings with the huge red wine glasses he loves so much, and the bottle of Bordeaux decanting in his Grandmother’s old crystal carafe. There are no roses though, I draw the line at clichés such as roses and heart-shaped chocolate.
“It looks like a romantic dinner.” He steps closer to me, nudging my shoulder with his arm. “But that can’t be it, can it? Surely Iggy Wilker wouldn’t do something as banal as a romantic dinner for his partner on Valentine’s Day?” He clutches a strand of imaginary pearls and flutters his eyelashes.
“Shut up,” I grumble and slide my hand around his waist, burying my nose in his upper arm and inhale his scent.
“If I remember what you told me last year correctly,” he continues and flings his arm around my shoulders, “the only way Iggy Wilker, gay party-boy extraordinaire, will ever spend Valentine’s Day is with go-go boys in red skimpy underwear or giving head in a public bathroom.”
I tilt my head back and shoot him a glare. But the impish look in his eyes tell me he’s enjoying himself far too much and there’s only one way to shut him up. So I reach up, cup the back of his head, pull him down, and kiss him.
It’s hot and wet and eager and dueling tongues and clashing lips, and my knees go weak when he moans.
When I pull back, his eyes pupils are blown, his lips puffy, and his mouth stretched in a wide, sunny smile. He wraps his arms around me and crushes me against his body.
I cuddle close, resting my cheek on his chest. The beat of his heart is strong and steady in my ear. His hands wander up and down my spine and he presses a kiss on the top of my head.
“I did it for you,” I blurt.
“This. I did it for you. Because I’d do anything for you, even celebrate fucking Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh Iggy,” he says in a shaky voice and tightens his grip on me.
I look up and meet his gaze. “I wanted to do something special since Emery is with Maya.”
He meets my gaze and cradles my face in his hands. “Every day with you is special.”
“You’re a sap.” I rise to my toes and brush my lips against his before letting him go and pulling out a chair. He sits. and then knits his eyebrows together as though he just thought of something. “You didn’t cook, did you?” he asks with alarm in his voice, peering out into the kitchen.
I chuckle. “Honey, no. I’m trying to wine and dine you. Not burn our house down and poison you.”
He laughs, eyes crinkling with happiness and glittering with mirth, making my heart stutter in my chest.
“Pour us some wine and I’ll go get the food,” I say.
On the way to the kitchen, I press play on the stereo. A moment later, I rejoin the love of my life, hands laden with food, accompanied by Edith Piaf singing Je ne regrette rien.
I couldn’t agree more.
All ebooks are 40% off at JMS Books thru Monday, even pre-orders. So if you want to buy cheap books, click here to get to my author page.