As we set up the decorations for the birthday party, Jameson sneaks his arms around my waist and gives me a kiss on the head. I lean into his side, wrapping one of my arms around his middle.
Oh gosh, he feels so good. I can hardly handle his scent, his hair, his eyes, all of him.
"Hello," I grin up at him. He smiles down at me and kisses my nose. Nash patrols the room, giving instructions on how he wants the decorations. He looks over at us, giving a very-Nash grin. I return the gesture.
When the party starts, Jameson whispers, "There's the woman of the hour." I look over, and see Nash, with Libby on his arm, and Tiramisu in the other. He lets the birthday girl onto the ground.
"Tiramisu!" Xander calls to the dog. She looks up from the ground and bounds toward the youngest Hawthorne, leaping into his arms. She gives him too many slobbery kisses to count. He just laughs, delighted to be the favorite person of the Hawthorne dog.
"Let us split a scone," Xander proposes to the puppy, striding over to the snack table, which of course, has a plate of scones. Tiramisu sniffs the lemon scones.
"Oh, no," Xander pulls back, "We do not touch the devil's food, Tiramisu." Xander points to the blueberry scone on the opposite side of the plate. "We eat things of... not the devil." Tiramisu seems to understand, as she sniffs the blueberry scone. Xander nods, proudly.
"Yes, very good," He grabs the scone, splitting the pastry in half. He stuffs his half in his mouth and gives the other to Tiramisu. She prods her nose against it, then decides it's safe to eat, and scarfs the whole thing down. Xander grins.
"Another one?" He asks the dog. Nash interrupts the one sided conversation.
"Unless you want to spend your time cleaning up her barf," He drawls, "I'd suggest you don't give her another." Xander peeks over his shoulder, at his older brother who has a slight death glare in his gaze. Xander smiles sneakily at Nash, and run away, Tiramisu bouncing in his arms, ears flapping.
I laugh at the interaction. Jameson smiles down at me.
"He's quite a character," I say.
"So is every Hawthorne, Heiress," He replies, hands gliding along my waist. I laugh.
The string lights above us switch on, and I look up. The theme of the party, at Xander's request, is "Puppy Has Turned 1 So We Must Eat So Many Scones We Physically Barf," which I'm not not exactly sure how he found decorations to match that, but I suppose the youngest Hawthorne always finds a way.
The song, "Cry to Me," by Solomon Burke starts playing, and Xander comes skipping back with Max. He still holds Tiramisu in his arm.
Xander spins around on the dance floor, holding Tiramisu up. The first thing I think of is that scene in Lion King, where Mufasa holds Simba up for the whole world to see. Jameson chuckles.
"Well, you surely don't see that everyday," He says. I nod in agreement.
"Only with Xander Hawthorne," I reply.
