Dating Games(76)

I shoot up my hand, silencing him. “Not now.”

“Going to pull another Scarlett O’Hara?” He smiles slyly as the memory of the night we met fills me with warmth. We certainly have an unusual story, one most people would never believe, one you read in romance novels and fantasize about. Like I’ve said from the beginning…it’s a real-life Cinderella story. Except this version won’t end with Julian tracking me down after he finds my glass slipper. It will end when the clock strikes midnight, no matter what.

“Why, Mr. Gage…,” I coo in my best Southern accent, burying the thought. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do use humor to mask my emotions. “That is absolutely what I plan to do. Because—”

“I know, I know. ‘Tomorrow is another day.’”

When I hear Julian speak with a Southern drawl, I practically come in my chair. It’s almost as beautiful as listening to him speak French. Truth is, the mere sound of his voice sets my heart aflame.

“Yes, it is.”

He pushes back from the table and takes a few steps toward me, extending his hand. I eye him as my fingers link with his, standing up.

“So what would you like to do tonight?”

“We can always make a fashionably late appearance at whatever party’s scheduled. That way, you’re not sacrificing your entire weekend.”

“Out of the question. This weekend is all about you. If you weren’t here, what would you be doing? How did you spend most of your Friday nights before we met?”

“Usually watching a movie and being a complete couch potato.”

“Then let’s be couch potatoes.”

I step back, brow furrowed. “Really?”

“Yes. What’s so surprising about that?”

“You don’t strike me as the couch potato type.”

“Didn’t that steak teach you?”

“Teach me what?”

Leaning toward me, his breath tickles my neck. “I’m just full of surprises.”

With that, he pulls me away from the patio and into the house, despite my protests that we need to clean up. He assures me he’ll take care of it later, then leads me to a part of the house I’ve yet to spend any meaningful time in…the theater room. It’s impressive, an enormous projection screen across the far wall. About a dozen leather recliners fill the tiered setup, along with a lush sectional in the front, which is where he heads.

“What do you want to watch?” He settles into the corner of the couch, draping his arm over the back. “Name the movie and it’s yours.”

“Any movie at all?”

“Any movie at all,” he confirms.

“Even a chick flick?” I walk toward him, sitting next to him on the couch, but leaving a few inches between us. “You’d seriously be happy watching some sappy romance?”

“Like I said, this is your night. If you want some sappy romance, sappy romance you shall have.”

“And if I wanted to watch porn?”

His eyes grow intense as he narrows them on me. “Do you want to watch porn?”

“If I did?”

“Whatever Evie wants, Evie gets.” The sensuality in his tone has me squirming in my seat. “What does Evie want?” He toys with a few tendrils of hair in my ponytail, the light touch sending a shiver down my spine. “What movie makes you happy?”

A slave to his touch, I say the first thing that pops into my mind. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

His mouth gradually curves into a brilliant smile. “You got it.” He grabs a remote and presses a few buttons. The screen sparks to life. After sorting through a few menus, he hits play and the familiar strains to the opening measures of “Moon River” fill the room.

“We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to,” I say quickly, crossing my arms. “I’m sure you’d much rather watch something with big explosions and lots of boobs.”

Shaking his head, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, enclosing me in his embrace. “Absolutely not.” He props his long legs onto the cushioned ottoman in front of us. “Actually, this is one of my favorite movies.”

I tilt my head, meeting his eyes. “It is?”

“It is.”

I peer into his deep blue pools. “Why is that?”

“I like the story. How even someone who didn’t think she was worthy of being loved eventually found someone who did love her.”

“Everyone deserves to be loved,” I whisper as my gaze remains locked on his. He reaches out, brushing an errant curl behind my ear, his finger tracing the lines of my face. My heart rate increases as desire heightens deep in my core. I focus on his lips, what they must taste like. I’ve thought of little else the past few weeks, how much I want to kiss him, but I fear I won’t be able to stop at just a kiss. I’d want more. I’d want everything he’s adamantly insisted he could never offer me.

“Come on.” He clears his throat, the moment breaking before it had a chance to begin. He gestures to the screen. “Watch the movie.”

I peer at him for a moment longer, then shift my eyes to the movie, watching as Holly Golightly, wearing an oversized nightshirt, accessorized with an eye mask and earplugs, meets Paul Varjak. I laugh at the absurdity, reminded of my own initial meeting with Julian, how I was thrust into his life just as Holly and Paul were thrust into each other’s.