Dalton’s hand landed on my knee.
The hand lingered on my knee, sending delicious heat into my body, including the zesty taco zone.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I was coming on too strong, wasn’t I? I can be dramatic sometimes. Hazard of my career, I suppose. At least I’m not on a cop show, or I’d probably interrogate you or put you in handcuffs.”
I swallowed hard at the idea of handcuffs. “I’m not entirely against the idea of kissing you, but if you’re going to do it, just do it. Don’t tell me you’re going to—”
He moved swiftly, hooking one arm behind my back so I couldn’t fall off my chair or get away. His lips were on my mouth, his face in my face, and the kiss felt as right as anything had ever felt right in my life.
He gathered my lower lip between his and gently sucked as his breath warmed my face. People were still tapping silverware on glasses and encouraging people to kiss. The room swam around me, and it seemed like everyone was kissing, in the beautifully-decorated banquet room, with soft music playing and the scent of flowers and fresh bread in the air. How could you not kiss in a room like that?
Dalton pulled away, quickly looking down, as if embarrassed.
I looked at his hand on my knee and found my own hand on top of his, squeezing his thick fingers. I loosened my grip, and at the same time, he flipped his hand to be palm up, holding my hand tenderly.
His voice husky, he leaned in toward me and said, “Thanks for letting me tag along with you today.”
“Thanks for running into my bookstore. Why were you running, anyway?”
He winced. “Stupid reporters.”
“Was it just the usual Hollywood stuff, or did you do something scandalous?”
“You mean like crash someone’s wedding?”
“I guess you don’t have to tell me.” I squeezed his hand and reached over with my free hand to take a sip from my second glass of wine. “I am a woman, though. And we’re curious. Why don’t you just tell me what’s happening, so I don’t have to sneak off to the ladies’ room and scan through the gossip sources on my phone?”
He looked away, gazing at the newlyweds while displaying a breathtaking profile. Strong jawline, thick dark hair. That chin dimple was probably insured for a million bucks. Ugh. Even his ears were the cutest things ever, with all his cartilage folds being a thousand times more handsome than the ears of regular folks.
Where was that evil photographer? Why was he not getting more evidence of my once-in-a-lifetime handsome actor date?
I took a deep breath and let out an audible sigh—audible by accident.
Dalton turned to me with an intense look, the kind I’d seen him do on TV about a thousand times, right before he delivers a bombshell of a line.
Those gorgeous lips of his began to move. “Let’s just be two souls tonight. Two souls who are made of stardust, and found their way back to each other, the way they were destined to.”
“Let’s wait for our table number to be called, go stand in line for roast beef, and never let each other go.” He squeezed my fingers.
The way he was looking at me. The effect he was having on my whole body, from my swollen ladylumps to my actual freakin’ heart. Two souls made of stardust? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I reached for my wine and tossed it back.
Nodding, I said, “Tonight, we are two souls.”