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“Thanks,” I said, taking the cup he held out for me.
“As far as church attire—”
“Oh! I didn’t think about that. I really don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”
Beau raised a brow.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Go ahead with whatever you were going to say.”
“I took the liberty of having something delivered. It should be here any moment.”
“When? I mean, thanks. But when?”
“Last evening.”
As if he’d commanded it, someone knocked. Beau set his coffee on the floor and opened the door. A man handed him two garment bags along with two smaller bags.
“Much appreciated,” he said, setting the smaller ones on the floor near his coffee and handing the delivery person a tip before closing the door.
“These are yours, I believe. However, if it’s a suit and wingtips, they’re mine.”
“A suit?” I raised a brow and smiled, then took the two bags from him. “Thank you for this.”
He bowed. “My pleasure. I hope this makes up, at least in part, for myfaux paslast night.”
Faux pas—an embarrassing mistake. That summed it up, didn’t it? At least by Beau’s estimation. I felt so stupid. On the other hand, he’d kissed me. While I hadn’t pushed him away, I also wasn’t the instigator. There was no reason for me to feel the way I was, not that telling myself that changed anything. Just like the kiss. That hadn’t changed anything, either. At least I prayed we’d find a way to remain friends.
“I hope you’ll forgive me.”
My eyes met his. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Right. Well, if I could go back in time…”
Everything he’d said in the last couple of minutes was like a knife in my heart. I’d never want to erase the kiss we’d shared. Never. At least I’d experienced Beau feeling desire for me. Whether he regretted the kiss or not, when it was happening, there was no question he wanted me. There was also no question that I wanted him. So what made him do such an about-face? I’d never know because I’d never ask. I innately knew the answer would hurt as much as everything else he’d said.
“I should shower and get ready. Thank you again for this.”
He nodded once. “You’re welcome.”
I went into the bathroom, started the shower, and pulled the garment bag up to see what Beau had chosen for me. I gasped when I saw the camel-colored wool coat and, underneath it, a white sweater and black-knit pant set. It looked cozy but elegant. I hung both on the hook on the back of the door and removed the tissue covering the items in the other bag. On top was a shoebox, and inside was a pair of black booties. My size, of course. I removed them from the bag and was about to fold it when I realized there was something else inside, besides more tissue.
I reached in and pulled out a very sexy black bra and panty set. When I held them up to get a better look, a piece of paper floated to the floor. I knelt down and picked it up.
The handwriting was Beau’s, and his words stunned me. “A dream is but a wish the heart makes,” it read. I flipped it over, and on the back, he’d written, “I’ll not lie nor will I apologize. But pray tell me, how can I ever love another when you, wearing this, is what I dream of every night?”
I clutched the note in one hand and reached in to turn the shower off with the other. After taking a deep breath, I opened the door.
Beau was standing in the bedroom, wearing only boxer briefs. His eyes were wide when I held my palm out and he saw the note resting on it.
He shrugged and ran his hand through his hair. “It seems I cannot help but make matters worse.” When I stalked over to him, he dropped his arms to his sides. “Samantha—”
I put my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him so I could reach his lips. Before we kissed, I whispered, “Do you really dream about me wearing black-lace lingerie?”
Beau slowly shook his head, brushing my lips with his as he did. “Usually, you’re naked.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, and his hardness pressed against me. “I need you to be sure of this.”
“I am, but, Beau, you’re sending me mixed signals. Are you certain this is what you want?”
Rather than answer, his mouth plundered mine.
