❤? ﾟﾍﾫ? ﾟﾒﾘ
Harvey spots his wife the moment he walks into the bar, her softer copper hair just as fiery as when they first met over a decade ago. Donna never fails to stand out in a crowd, and tonight is no exception, her long legs crossed over the stool making his heart beat faster. She has on the red strapless Dior gown he purchased for her—his—Valentine's Day gift, and he exhales, trying to make room in his chest for more oxygen as his gaze lavishes the swell of her breasts in the elegantly tantalizing dress.
Neither married life, nor the move to Seattle has slowed down their libido. If anything, he feels at the peak of his prime, but the smug grin that spills freely onto his lips is more than just appreciative of his wife's radiance. Being able to stand and openly wear his emotions from afar is a homage to the younger version of himself who stole lingering glances and reaped only loneliness as a reward. He used to regret taking so long to come to his senses, but the forlorn echo is a reminder to never grow complacent. Where he once charmed women with empty romantic gestures, now the simplest of acts make him feel whole and complete. The smile Donna wears when he surprises her with dinner or flowers is nothing compared to the way her eyes glisten after he brushes his lips against her ear and whispers deep and sincere truths like how he'd be lost without her—that she's his entire world, and if the universe ceased to exist tomorrow, he wouldn't begrudge its disappearance, because it's already given him far more than he deserves.
However, tonight, he's eager to do both—indulge her with romance which is far from hollow, and then sink himself across her naked body with promises of forever reverberating against her skin.
Moving confidently through the sea of people, his smile beams, but falters when his view of her is obstructed by broad shoulders wrapped in a jet-black suit. The man leans casually against the bar, his muscular frame angled at Donna, and if he hadn't used the same move himself to yield results with women, he'd roll his eyes at the audacious prick. Fortunately, his annoyance is tempered when he's close enough to hear Donna's polite brush off.
"I'm flattered, but very happily married."
He smirks, ready to engage the conversation and announce himself when the man decimates any notion their egos are one and the same.
"Come on… What your husband doesn't know won't hurt him."
His rigid fingers flex into a ball, but Donna's fast quip is like a gate latching closed on his impulses.
"Unless you're looking to get hurt, back off, jackass."
She rises into his view, but before his anger uncoils, she's tethered by an aggressive hand snapping around her wrist, and he sees red—a primal reaction surging through his veins. Without thinking, he hauls the man's elbow, stepping forcefully between the interaction with a fierce growl. The only thing that stops him from taking a swing is Donna's light touch curving over his fist, grounding him to the spot, and he takes two shallow breaths, reining in his anger.
"Is there a problem here?"
Harvey stiffens under the bartender's wary gaze, but his adrenaline ebbs into smugness when the man opposite him cowers beneath the unwanted attention.
"No problem. Simple misunderstanding."
Harvey murmurs an explicative under his breath as the man shoulders past him, disappearing in the buzzing crowd. He reaches for Donna's Margherita, taking a sip as he reluctantly turns to face her disapproval, which he's loath to admit is probably warranted. After being privy to some of her less than stellar dates over the years, he knows she's capable of handling herself, but with a new perspective, his skin crawls with the mere thought of all the times she casually brushed some guy off as an asshole and ended the description of her evening there. Before his mind spirals—demanding a list of all the men he needs to track down and pay a visit to, her soft gaze fills with amusement, not the reprimand he was expecting, and he frowns. "What?"
She shakes her head, not sure if she should encourage or condone the tightly wound restraint in his shoulders. For years he paved over any inkling he was bothered by other men in her life, insignificant or not. Seeing him act so boldly in front of her doesn't make her feel belittled, only revered, because under her lead he stopped himself from acting rashly. Though, had he not stepped in, she might have been the one to react impulsively. "You did him a favor." She plucks the stem of her cocktail from Harvey's glass, raising an eyebrow.
"Why's that?" he asks, still confused.
Her lips curve over the salty rim with a smirk. "This drink was about to ruin his skinny-ass tie."
Harvey snorts, his mouth twitching as she downs the last of the cocktail. After placing the empty glass on the bar, her palms press softly against his chest, instantly relaxing him. He clutches her waist, skating his fingers over the fabric that caused his loitering. "I'm sorry I was late," he apologizes, roaming his eyes down. "You look beautiful."
She blushes, the once rare apology another of the ways he's found to show her how he loves her. He doesn't hold back anything anymore, and she answers his grin with a warm smile. "You're here now." She flutters a kiss across his lips, swallowing his small groan, and she laughs quietly, grasping his hands before they inadvertently start to wander. "Come on… We'll miss our reservation."
He smirks mischievously, and she admonishes the cheeky look, knowing full well he has something other than dinner on his mind. "This dress deserves a night out," she warns, scooping her nails under his tie and straightening the bulky knot.
He dips his head as she fidles, whispering into her ear. "That dress belongs on our bedroom floor," he teases, feeling her neck flush under the tip of his nose.
She stills, contemplating how easy it would be to give in, go home and let his hands and mouth devour her in private. But they're starting to get a reputation around town for canceling last minute, and at the rate they're going, they'll be black listed at every exclusive restaurant in Seattle. "Dinner first. Dessert comes after."
She playfully swats his arm, and he chuckles at her resolute pout. "Come on, then." He folds her smaller hand into his palm, both grinning broadly as they leave the bar behind.
He promised her they'd celebrate Valentine's Day outside of their bedroom this year, and he's going to make good on his word, at least until they're back home.
❤? ﾟﾍﾫ? ﾟﾒﾘ