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“You taste like sugar and sunshine,” he breathed, bringing her in another inch as his worries disintegrated.
She smiled against his mouth. “You taste like every dream I never thought could be a reality. Each note and every lyric I’ve written has landed me here, in your arms.”
Even high as a kite, she could weave lyrics together like a musical maverick.
“Are you writing a song?” he asked and dropped a kiss beneath her earlobe.
“We’re always writing a song with kisses and stolen glances and the way you tuck wayward locks of my hair behind my ear. Everything about us can be distilled into a melody.”
“How do you do it?” he asked, returning to her lips. “Where do you get your magic?”
She gifted him with another smile. “Chocolate.”
“Chocolate?”
“The girl of your dreams comes with a bonbon kiss,” she sang, and damn, that voice.
He couldn’t hold back.
Hungrily, he kissed her and devoured her sweetness. It was as if he saw her anew and viewed their union with fresh eyes.
And that begged the question.
Could this union last?
Don’t think…just kiss her. She’s yours…for now.
He deepened the kiss, falling into the well that was everything Harper Presley.
No, Harper Presley-Paige.
“Harper Presley-Paige,” he whispered as an invisible thread formed between them, lassoing his heart.
What was this? What was happening to him?
“Look at these newlyweds, Damien,” a woman remarked with a near-comical buttery southern drawl.
“Bless their little hearts. Aren’t they so sweet?”
Who the hell was that?
He broke their kiss, then stared at the shimmery senior citizens standing in the doorway.
He blinked. Could he have gotten secondhand shroom exposure from kissing Harper?
Was that a possibility?
It sure felt like it.
The people standing before them looked like they’d stepped out of a hallucination.
“Sorry, y’all, we didn’t mean to interrupt,” the striking woman donning a giant Dolly Parton-like wig crooned.
“Young love, there’s nothing like it,” the man next to her remarked in the same exaggerated accent, stretching out each syllable.
Dressed in matching jumpsuits that glittered like diamonds, the older couple looked poised to fall back in time and hit the disco circa 1972.
“We’re Donna and Damien Diamond,” the woman said with a little curtsey.
