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“A little pink never hurt anyone, I suppose.” He popped the cork and poured two generous glasses, carrying one over to Rachel who willingly accepted the glass.
“Shall we toast?” he asked, raising his glass.
“To what?”
Zander rubbed his chin for a moment, pretending to think. “To a speedy recovery for you, and to chasing passion.”
She smiled, holding her glass up and clinking it against his. “To both of those things, and then some.”
“And then some,” he said, never taking his eyes off her, even as he took his first sip of champagne and thought about how wonderful it was just being here with her, pink glasses and all.
And wondering if maybe it really would be the beginning of something—but what that something was, Zander was a little bit afraid to figure out.
