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"That's what you do, isn't it? Some kind of businessman playboy? Breaking women's hearts all over Texas?"
"Denise," he says firmly. "That's not what it was."
"Then what the hellwasit?"
"I wanted to tell you, Denise, but I…." His eyes wander from my curling hair down to my dress, admiring my figure, my body. "Damn," he says. "You look amazing."
My belly flutters. "How dare you?" I ask.
He pulls my face closer again, but rather than putting his lips on mine, he brings them to my neck and along my jaw. As he kisses the sensitive patch of skin, my legs fall weak, and I begin to sag against him. If we weren't currently outside, the things I would let him do to me….
His mouth traces a path along my jaw and back up to my mouth. As I feel his kiss for the second time—hisrealkiss—the last dregs of my anger melt completely away. A moan enters my mouth, giving away my true feelings, and he pulls me even closer, pressing his hips against mine.
Throwing my arms around his neck and shoulders, I fold completely against him, his warmth buzzing through my body, his touch vibrating in my skin. I could stay like this forever.
With much difficulty, he pulls his lips away.
"That's how I feel about you, Denise," he says, still breathless. "That's the kiss I wanted to give you Tuesday night."
"Then why didn't you?" My voice is a whine of need.
He swallows. "It was complicated before. I'm not good at this romance thing. I didn't want you to think it was more serious than I was afraid I could get."
"What changed your mind?"
A smirk graces his lips. "An angel gave me a certain cookie recipe. And I realized I'd been an idiot."
A flush rushes over my cheeks. "Don't ask me why I did it."
"I'm glad you did." Swiftly, he presses his lips hard against mine again. I feel my knees swivel beneath me, threatening to give out.
As he pulls back again, he grins at my dress. He still hasn't taken his hands off me. "So, what's the occasion?" he asks.
My blush deepens. I'd almost forgotten. "Tinsley Simon is throwing a party tonight. I actually have to get going, or I'm gonna be late."
"Oh," he says, eyebrows raising in almost happy surprise. "Would it be alright if I went with you? My driver is already here. Just give him the address."
Following his gaze, I peer down at the road and spot Mar standing beside his sleek black car. He nods at me, tipping his chauffeur's cap and giving a little wave. I shyly wave back, suddenly aware that Brett and I have had an audience.
Stepping out of Brett's arms, I brush myself off.
"Well, I was already planning to bring Brittany as my plus one. My assistant manager," I clarify as I see his confused expression.
"That's right, the redhead. I remember her." He shrugs. “But I also know Tinsley personally. She wouldn't turn me away if I crash her party. And we can pick up Brittany on the way."
"Huh," I say, surprised that what I'd been worried would be an issue hasn't turned into one. That's a rare occurrence these days. "G-good. Sounds good. Let me just get my purse."
I push the door open once again. To my embarrassment, Sheila is standing on the other side.
Smirking.
I know her well enough to tell that she was watching us through the peephole.
"Don't say anything," I tell her sternly, pointing a threatening finger.
She holds up her hands, playing innocence. "These lips are sealed. At least until you get back." Her smirk grows. "Actually, I probably shouldn't be here when you get back, huh? Based on that kiss, I'd guess you two will want someprivacy."
Purse in hand, I whack her in the arm with it. But as I look at Brett again, standing so patiently on the porch with his trim suit and slightly tousled hair, I want Sheila to be right.
