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He takes me back into his arms, and we begin to dance again, his laughter deep and booming. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“Heard about that, huh?”
“Only the good parts.”
“Well, I had to tell her how amazing you are and my most favorite thing about you.”
“My big dick,” he assesses with matter-of-fact amusement.
I grin up at him with a shake of my head. “Your art.”
His eyes burn with intensity as he looks down at me. The notion that I could love his artistic side is something he never fathomed.
Of course, I let him know, “I am also a huge fan of your cock—not gonna lie. So, why don’t we get out of here so I can peel you out of this suit? I think you deserve it, what with the grand gesture of showing up, romantic words, and branding me in front of a room full of my community members.”
Instead of releasing me to carry me off into the Newbury sunset, he gives me a twirl, forcing me out and then into his arms and then back to our original pose.
“I have a better idea. My girl is getting a big award tonight, so why don’t we stay, dance, eat, drink, hear your accolades, and then we can go home, and I’ll let you take this suit off me?”
“Robert Bronson, you sure know a way to a girl’s heart.”
“I noticed you were drinking bourbon. I saw it at the table. That’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That you missed me.”
“I did miss you, Rob. Now, get me good and drunk, make me dance till my feet hurt, and then ravish me in the bedroom.”
“Yes, crazy. Anything you say.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
We partied until dessert was served and then decided we’d had enough of the Wolfson Manor and were ready to get back to my place. The kids are at Will and Melissa’s tonight, which means when Rob parks in my driveway, he gets out, walks to my door to let me out, and then follows me in with a duffel bag in hand.
I eye his bag. “Presumptuous, eh?”
He shrugs as he takes my keys out of my hand and starts to open the front door. “It was either sleep here a happy man or go to Will’s and get drunk by the firepit.”
We walk inside and turn my kitchen island light on and leave the rest off. I put on some mood music—smooth jazz. Rob puts his bag on the counter and then slides his tie off before taking off his jacket and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. He eyes my liquor cabinet and kneels in front of it, taking out a bottle of bourbon that has dust on it.
He stands, pours one glass, and turns around.
I stand in the middle of my living room, watching this man, tall and confident and so damn captivating. The contours of his face are accentuated in the shadows of the light. I feel my vulnerability coursing through my veins as he saunters toward me. The man can make me feel powerful and weak at the same time. It’s exhilarating and frightening, all at once.
“You never told me what bourbon says about a person,” I challenge.
He looks down at his glass for a beat and then back at me, his eyes trained on mine as he takes a sip.
“Bourbon is a strong spirit. It shows a man likes the finer things in life and appreciates all the detail that goes into the things he loves.”
I lick my lips as I inhale. He draws closer.
“Second, a bourbon drinker is confident in their taste. They’ll spend their hard-earned money on something to know it is going to be worth it. And when they invest, it’s for life.”
I let out an exhale, my romantic heart drinking in every word.
“Finally, a man who drinks bourbon isn’t afraid of the burn because he knows the sweetness that will follow.”
