He shifted, as if maybe things were getting cramped down below. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Besides that.”
I smiled sharply. “I plan weddings.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
“But you said you weren’t the romantic type.”
“Not for me.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t help others get their perfect day.”
“I guess not,” he mused. “If we’d met sooner, I would have told my brother and his fiancée to hire you. They’re getting married in a few weeks.”
“Good for them,” I said, “but I’d rather talk about us.”
He smiled. “I can get on board with that.”
I got lost in his blue eyes for a minute. My heart skipped a beat. What was this guy doing to me? I didn’t respond this way to men. Not anymore. Not since?—
I didn’t want to think about Michael.
I pushed back my chair abruptly, needing space.
Bryson turned his head just then, not seeming to notice. “Oh, look at that sunset. It’s almost as gorgeous as you.”
I slowly let my gaze drift to the pink and orange streaks in the sky, the sun a blazing ball lowering on the horizon.
It really was beautiful. For some silly reason, tears pricked my eyes.
I didn’t notice Bryson had gotten up until he took hold of my hand. “Come here.”
I stood, letting him draw me close. He placed his hand onmy jaw once more, caressing softly while those blue eyes saw deeper into me than I liked.
“Can I kiss you, Silas?”
I swayed into him, falling into his warmth and sweetness with a breathless, “Yes.”
He kissed me gently, brushing my lips lightly, then lingering as if savoring a delicious dish. There was nothing rushed about it. This was a man who knew what he was doing.
It wasn’t hot or sexy, not like the kisses that preluded sex.
This was something different.
If I had to describe it, I’d call itromantic.
Fucking hell, Bryson had broken right through my jaded defenses and made me want more. As we kissed, and the sun sank behind us, I melted in his arms.
“Take me home?” I asked, eyes catching his. “You can romance me in bed.”
“Only if you let me take you out again,” he said. “I don’t want a hookup. I want?—”
I kissed him again so that he wouldn’t say it. But I already knew I’d give in. How could I not, with such a sweet, genuine romantic like Bryson?
I was powerless to resist, no matter how much it scared me.
“You win,” I murmured against his lips.
He smiled, and then as if a switch had been flipped, his kiss shifted from sweet to searing. His hands slid down to cup my ass and drag me tight against him.
