Masked Innocence

Forty-Seven

It was almost six when I heard sounds downstairs. I wore one of Brad’s T-shirts and had my hair pinned up, putting on mascara. I stopped, listening, then walked to the landing. “Brad?”

“Yeah. I’m coming up.”

Happiness flooded through me. I trotted down the stairs, meeting him halfway, a hand-wrapped bouquet in his hand. A huge smile broke out on my face at the sight of him, and I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him firmly, trying to keep the mascara stick away from his shirt. “Hey, baby,” I said.

“Hey, beautiful. These are for you.”

“They are gorgeous! Thank you.” I kissed his neck, then bounded up the stairs, screwing the mascara closed, meeting him at the top step. I took the bouquet from him and sank my face into them, inhaling the sweet fragrance.

“There are vases downstairs, I’m not sure where, but Martha uses them a lot.”

“I’ll find one. Come into the bathroom. You can talk to me while I put on makeup.”

He followed me into the master bath, stopping when he saw the mess of bubbles I had halfway cleaned up. I had hoped that most of them would evaporate, but that plan hadn’t worked out too well for me. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

“Sorry. Your bathtub attacked me with bubbles. I’ll clean it up later. You should probably know, I’m not very...tidy.”

“I could have guessed that.”

I raised my eyebrows at that, but turned back to the mirror, finishing up my mascara.

“You look beautiful.” His voice was soft, and I turned, facing him, studying his eyes. They were, as always, dark and unreadable, watchful, intelligent. I smiled tentatively at him and he stepped forward quickly, his hand stealing around to cup my neck, his eyes on my face. He kissed me, hard and possessive, then softer. My mouth opened and his kiss deepened. He released me and we parted. He grinned, his eyes on my mouth, and then on my eyes.

I turned back to the mirror and fished through the makeup bag, found the earrings I had worn the night of the party and started to put them on.

“Wait,” he said, reaching a hand out and stopping me. He walked into the closet, making noise for a few minutes, then returned, carrying a black velvet box. “Wear these.”

I took the box gingerly—it was old and worn on the edges. Larger than a ring box. I opened the lid, revealing a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings. Each earring had a large round diamond, with an oval sapphire dangling beneath it, surrounded by tiny diamonds. They were beautiful. I studied them, wondering about them, and looked up at Brad.

“They were my mother’s. The first, and only, piece of jewelry I ever bought her. My sister has all of her other pieces. It’s not a gift, just a loan.”

An unnecessary statement, but I understood him making it.

“I thought— I didn’t realize your mother had passed. When you said that you hadn’t spoken to her...” My words trailed off and I looked up, seeing the pain in his eyes.

“Three years ago,” he said, taking the box from me and removed an earring, handing it to me. I took it carefully, the weight of it surprising me. It was, by far, the most expensive thing I had ever touched. I put it on, and looked at myself in the mirror, Brad’s watchful face above mine. “I’ll take good care of them tonight.”

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. “I’m not worried. I’m not letting either of you out of my sight.”

I smiled softly and fingered the remaining earring, bringing it up to my other ear. “Which one of us is more precious to you?”

He frowned at me. “I can replace the earrings. You, I cannot.”

I turned and looked up at him. “No?”

“No.”

He snuck a quick hand up my shirt and I flinched, knocking his hand back down and spinning back to the mirror, glaring at his reflection. He shot me a grin and smacked me hard on the ass, then turned to the shower, turning on all of the jets and then pulling his shirt over his head. Finished with my makeup, my ears brilliantly adorned, I left the bathroom and headed to the bedroom to dress.