Page 170

"Repeatedly, I imagine."

"Usually by women who can't resist my charm."

"Right, charm. Do you offer a warranty on that, or are all disappointments final?"

He laughed. A deep, warm sound that cued the butterflies in my stomach to start raving.

"Come on," he said.

I narrowed my eyes. "Where?"

"Somewhere you can sit down before those shoes permanently damage your sparkling personality."

"This isn’t a trick to get me on the dance floor, is it?"

"Sweetheart, if I wanted to trick you into getting on something, it wouldn’t be a dance floor."

"That is not reassuring."

"Wasn't meant to be."

He offered his arm, and after a brief hesitation, I took it. He led me away from the crowded dance floor toward a quieter corner of the reception area, where a few cushioned chairs sat beneath the sprawling branches of an oak tree.

The music followed us. A slow song drifted through the speakers, all acoustic guitar and a gravelly voice singing about coming home.

Damon pulled out a chair, the epitome of the perfect gentleman. I looked at him suspiciously.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"You're looking at me like I'm about to steal your purse."

"I can’t figure out if you’re actually a gentleman or..."

"Or what?"

"Or if you’re gonna make an inappropriate joke."

He smiled. “I have three locked and loaded, I'm showing remarkable restraint."

I laughed. And sat. The relief was immediate. I slipped my heels off and stretched my aching feet as I moaned in bliss.

Damon chuckled. "That bad?"

"I may never move from this spot again."

"Tragic."

"Tell everyone at my company I love them."

"I'll make sure they know."

"And delete my browser history."

His eyebrows lifted. "Now I'm curious."

"Don't be. My last Google rabbit holes were whether or not plants can die out of spite, and if penguins have knees."