I shiver. “Ex-excuse me?”
“I said”—a flick of his tongue—“you’re a liar.”
“I’m not lying,” I hiss. “I happen to like very much what we did last night.”
“Oh, of that I’m not in doubt. What you’re lying about is the repeat?—”
“I—”
“Not because you don’t mean it, Red.” He brushes his nose along my jaw. “But because something would undoubtedly come up and you’d find yourself working.”
I grin. “You only say that because you’d find yourself doing the same thing.”
He presses his lips to my forehead. “Maybe.”
“Nomaybeabout it.” I lean my shoulder against his. “Now, what’s this surprise?”
“The surprise”—he shifts, wraps his arm around me and tugs me closer—“is that it’s going toremaina surprise until we get there.” A kiss to the top of my head. “Which, thankfully, won’t take much longer.”
He jerks his chin to the windows, and I frown, realizing that we’ve somehow left the city proper and are in the rolling hills dotted with farms that chase suburbia into the more heavily populated areas.
“Where—”
The driver exits the freeway, turning up into those rolling hills, bright green and dotted with trees, separated into plots with wooden and wire fences.
Frowning, trying to make sense of it all, I mutter, “Taking me off to be murdered then, are you?”
The driver huffs out a laugh, her eyes connecting with mine for a second in the rearview.
“Maybe she’ll tell me where we’re going,” I half-threaten.
“And ruin the surprise?” she says. “Absolutely not.”
Damon laughs and even though I’m frowning on the outside, inside I’m doing the same.
And, anyway, there’s not really a surprise to ruin any longer.
Because we’re turning again, this time onto a narrow track road, waist-high grass on one side, growing up to a giant sign.
A sign that ruins the surprise.
My eyes go wide and my head jerks so fast I nearly give myself whiplash as my gaze connects with Damon’s. “Seriously?”
He nods, mouth curving. “Seriously.”
My reply is hushed, almost reverent. “How did you?—?”
He touches my cheek. “Because I know you.” He leans closer, taps the tip of my nose. “And because I saw the picture in your office, Red.”
“I—” My eyes burn and I hold my breath, blinking rapidly. This is too much. I can’t handle this. I can’t accept it. I can’t?—
“Breathe, Red,” he murmurs, smoothing a hand up and down my arm. “I saw a brochure for this place at the hotel this morning. They happened to have space and…” A shake of his head. “It was kismet.”
I release a trembling breath. “No,” I whisper. “It wasyou.”
His thumb brushes lightly over my cheek and I only realize he’s wiping a tear away when he orders softly, “Don’t cry.”
“Sweetheart…”
