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Her eyes narrowed as I continued. “And I should know, I did a few shows with that crew too.” I waggled my eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips together. “And you were actually in a movie? If I watch it, I’ll see you?” Her voice was laced with skepticism.
I nodded. “Yep, at the forty-three-minute mark you’ll see yours truly for a whole minute and twelve seconds.”
She leaned back in her chair and took another swig from her glass, her arms over her chest. “And you expect me to believe that you also know how to fly through the air on a wire like a trapeze artist?”
“Scout’s honor,” I told solemnly, holding up a hand with two fingers in the air.
“You weren’t a Boy Scout. You couldn’t stand to be outside most of the time!” she quipped.
Again, I lifted my shoulder in a nonchalant shrug as I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the shit eating grin off my face. “People change, I guess.”
She took another sip from her champagne glass. “It’s like Lawson Reed went to Vegas and turned into 007.” She made a point to look around the room and dropped her voice. “Are you really on a secret mission and we’re here so you can watch the bad guys?”
She was joking, but she had no idea how close to the truth she was. I pressed my lips together and leaned forward. “That’s classified.”
Her head fell back, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders, and she laughed heartily. “You are not at all who I thought you were,” she told me when the peals of laughter finally subsided. Her eyes twinkled as she finished. “I like it.”
She may have said ‘it’, but what I heard was that she liked me. And that was all the encouragement I needed. “I like you too.”
Her face softened and her lips that were stretched wide in a grin just moments ago parted, forming a perfect ‘o’. I reached across the table with my free hand and took hers, lacing my fingers with hers. She didn’t hesitate for even a moment. Instead she gave my hand a light squeeze.
“I have a surprise for you,” I told her.
Her eyes lit up. “I love surprises!”
“I know.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small wrapped object. I slid it across the table to her. She pulled her hand from mine and greedily ripped the paper off.
“A Backstreet Boys CD?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.
I lifted my chin. “You love them.” I reminded her.
“I do. I already have this CD.” She laughed, her gaze going back in time. “Gah, remember how you drew on all the posters that were on my walls? Giving them black teeth and eye patches. I was so mad at you!” She opened the CD and pulled out the booklet from the front. “Wait a minute.” Her eyes jumped to me. “Is this signed?”
The corner of my mouth tipped up in a smile. “Maybe.”
She ran her fingertips over the front where it was, in fact, signed by all the members of the band. “How the hell did you get this signed by everyone?” she asked, the wonder in her voice causing my chest to squeeze.
“I told you already, I know them.” I winked.
She was flipping through the pages when she let out a strangled cry and turned it to face me. “Lawson! You ruined it!”
My brows drew together. “I did not! Personally, I think Nick looks better with a beard, that’s all.”
She huffed again as she turned another page to see where I’d enhanced yet another picture of the band. “Ran off to Vegas a boy, came back an even more immature boy,” she muttered under her breath. “Can’t believe you had them sign this just to draw all over it!”
She got to the last page and a piece of paper fluttered to the table. “What’s this?” She picked it up and opened it, revealing tickets to the concert they were having the following weekend.
Her head snapped up, her eyes so wide they nearly popped out of her head. “Front row seats? How did you do this?” she squealed. This time, she didn’t bother looking embarrassed when the other patrons around us looked to see what the commotion was about.
“I’m a man of many talents,” I told her. “I—” I was interrupted when she jumped from her seat and came around the table, launching herself in my arms.
“I’m not even going to ask how you knew this was one of my bucket list concerts.” It came out mumbled as her face was pressed into the side of my throat, her arms looped around my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into me, burying my nose in her hair.
She smelled sweet and her scent hit me right in the gut.
Holding her in the crowded five-star restaurant, breathing in the very essence of the woman I’d always wanted, I decided I wasn’t done worrying about the what-ifs.
