“I didn’t know all that. I only knew about the painting your brother bought, which is how he started the foundation.”
“He’s a pretty incredible guy.” Then he asked, “Where are you parked?”
“There’s a garage under the office building.” She pointed. “Turn in there.”
He pulled in beside her car, one of the few left in the garage.
Oh God. He’d do it now, she was sure.
But instead of jumping her, Troy asked, “What were you and Rosie talking about?”
It felt like a reprieve. “Gloria Madden is very interested in Rosie’s art. I’m getting the two of them together.”
“The billionaire matchmaker strikes again.”
“I like to bring together people with mutual interests.” But his words pleased her.
“That’s your knack.” He reached out to tap her temple. “You have this Rolodex in your brain, and you spin it and bring people together.”
He smiled so sweetly, reminding her of exactly how good he’d tasted.
Half of her brain—she didn’t know whether it was the left or the right—shouted for him not to kiss her.
But the other half—okay, that had to be the right side—chanted, Please, please, kiss me.
“I’ll watch until you drive away. So I know you’re safe.”
But he did not kiss her.
Why not? Was this a test? Maybe he was waiting for her to kiss him. If she did, she’d be lost. Completely, totally, utterly.
Or maybe she already was.
But she listened to her left brain. “Thank you so much for a wonderful evening.” And opened the car door.
True to his word, he watched until she drove away.
While her right brain was still screaming for that kiss.
He should have kissed her. He’d planned on it, had dreamed about it for four days.
But if he’d kissed her, he wouldn’t have been able to stop. He would have begged her to come home with him. Holy hell, he might even have begged her to climb into the back seat with him. And he did not want his first time with Michaela Killian to be in a parking garage.
But he’d seen it all in her eyes. She’d wanted him to kiss her. Maybe even as badly as he wanted to.
Was it a strategic move not to? Or just plain stupid?
He began planning their next date.
“What fun thing should we do this weekend, Mom?” Michaela loved doing fun things with her mother—shopping, thrifting, hiking. Flo was as avid a hiker as she was.
She needed to do something to take her mind off the fact that Troy hadn’t kissed her on Wednesday night or called her since, not even to ask if she’d found the perfect date for Gabby. Which she hadn’t. Yet. No one seemed exactly right.
Flo had made a delicious beef bourguignon for their Friday night dinner, complemented by a tasty red wine.
Then Michaela noticed her mother’s blush. Flo was blushing. It was unheard of. Maybe even crazy.
She immediately said, “What’s wrong?”
