His lips met hers; brushed once, twice. His pulse throbbed. He didn’t rush the kiss, nor did he linger. He waited for her to give him a sign that she craved his touch as much as he did hers—that the attraction he felt for her wasn’t all one-sided.
She let out a sigh, and her small hands reached aroundhis neck and pulled him closer. That was all the sign he needed.
How long didthey stand in the kitchen, swaying back and forth like a jukebox was cranking out love songs? One minute? Ten? Bethany could almost hear the strains of a violin or a softly strumming guitar, almost feel the touch of a magic wand and fairy dust.
His lips pressed against her mouth—as firm and full and hot as she’d dreamed they would be. His tongue swept the edges of her mouth and then plunged inside. She breathed in what smelled like a forest of evergreens. She wanted the kiss to go on and on forever. To lose herself in the feel of his soft lips and perfect physique.
Bethany wrapped her hands around his broad shoulders and tucked herself into his hard chest like she’d imagined doing since they’d walked on the beach and he’d told her that he wanted to be friends. But he wanted to be more than friends, didn’t he? And God help her, so did she.
He groaned and framed her face with his large hands, deepening the kiss. She heard herself mew like a kitten. Her hands tangled in his golden hair like she’d seen his female costar do on the television screen. After seeing the on-screen kiss, she’d imagined what it would feel like to be his costar. Now she knew. Her blood heated into a roaring inferno.
She kissed her landlord. She kissed a celebrity. She kissed Apollo.
The first strains of sanity floated in her brain. What was she doing? Desmond was also a celebrity. Hadn’t she been down this path before? This passion blossoming betweenher and Hank—it wasn’t real. It was the thrill of the chase for Hank—the challenge of a moment; a victory claimed. He would take what she offered and, like any summer fling, would end it when Hollywood beckoned. Her life was here, in Cleveland, with Travis and her friends and Grandma Lou’s. Not in some jet-setting lifestyle in Los Angeles with an actor who looked like a Greek god. And if Elizabeth found out...
She pushed against his chest until he raised his head from his assault on her lips. Bethany had no doubt her deal with Elizabeth would be over. She would never gain the votes she needed in the contest to save Grandma Lou’s. Besides, she’d made a bargain. “Hank, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
His eyes were dark with desire, and for a moment, they didn’t seem to register her words. He tilted his head. “You’re right. This isn’t the time or place. Later?”
She pulled herself from his arms. “No, Hank. I can’t do this with you.”
He didn’t move, but his forehead creased, and his eyes squinted at the corners. “Why?”
“Dios mío!” A scream erupted from the other room.
Rosie.
Bethany tore herself from his arms and dashed into the family room, Hank hard on her heels. Her heart worked double-time in her chest. The scene that confronted her was as dramatic as any movie. Rosie and Daphne were crouched over Tia, while Tana stood to the side sobbing, and Travis worked his cell phone.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Bethany reached the huddled group at the same time as Hank.
“I don’t know,” Rosie said, out of breath. “She’s having some sort of reaction. What should I do?”
Tia’s face and throat were swollen, and her skin was red and blotchy. She struggled to breathe.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Travis said, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “They say they’ll be here in less than five minutes. If you have an EpiPen, use it. Is she breathing? If she’s not, we need to perform chest compressions.”
Hank peered over Rosie’s shoulder. “She’s breathing, but it’s a struggle.”
“Hang on,niña,” Rosie said, squeezing Tia’s hand. “Hang on. An ambulance is coming.”
Hank leaned toward Rosie. “Do you have an EpiPen?”
Rosie shook her head, eyes wide. “No.”
Bethany gazed in horror as Tia gasped for air.
“Turn her on her back,” Hank told Bethany and Rosie. “Daphne, find a blanket.”
Daphne hesitated and then took off down the hall, her high heels clunking, while Bethany and Rosie turned Tia on her back, and Hank checked her pulse.
“She’s stopped breathing.” Hank’s voice remained steady, but Bethany could hear the urgency in his tone. “I’m going to do chest compressions. Travis, how much longer?”
Hank began pressing Tia’s chest and counting.
“Three minutes,” Travis said.
Three minutes seemed endless. How Hank managed to stay calm and know what to do, Bethany couldn’t fathom. Daphne brought the blanket, and Bethany covered Tia’s lower half, while Hank worked on her chest, and Rosie spilled a steady stream of terrified words in Spanish. The only comfort Bethany could provide was to Tana, who clung to her side.
