said, and there was softness in her voice, an affection that surprised him, maybe because his mind was so damn focused on the rest of her. On having her body.
But this side, this sweet side…it worked its way through him like a good drug. He wanted this side of her, too. All of her.
“Thank you,” he said, once again robbed of quips and wit.
She raised a hand and cupped his cheek. “So damn handsome,” she repeated, and that tenderness turned him speechless. There was vulnerability in her voice tonight and he wanted to handle her with care. To shove all this lust and desire aside and give her whatever she wanted, whatever she needed.
He threaded his hands up the back of her hair, letting the soft strands spill all over his fingers. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. Oh hell, he stood no chance. He didn’t want to stand a chance of fighting anything he was feeling for her.
Because he felt everything.
He whispered her name.
She whispered something better. “Kiss me.”
He ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. She murmured and melted into his arms. She fit him so perfectly, sliding against him, their bodies like magnets, seeking their opposite, finding their way home.
He kissed her, soft and tender, and he could have gone on all night. Could have kissed her forever. But he wanted to take her to the theater, too. To prove he’d changed. That he could put her first. Ahead of himself.
When he pulled away, he spotted a picture on her kitchen counter, a close-up of sunflowers, lit from the sun with a bright, golden glow around the petals.
He tipped his chin to the image. “Did you take that?”
“I did,” she answered without looking at him, as she gathered her purse from the table.
“Didn’t know you were into photography.”
“I’m not,” she said.
In the corner of the photo, he could barely make out the edge of a stone. He was about to ask where she’d taken the picture, but when he turned around she was on the other side of the door, ready and eager to go.
He clasped her hand and walked her down the stairs, leaving her home far behind them.
* * *
It worked. It always worked with Brent. His touch erased the bad. His mere presence made her start to feel good again. To feel happy. To feel hope. She loved who she could be with him. And she wanted to be that woman tonight. Not the woman who’d lost so many pieces of her family, young and old, leaving her with just memories in frames.
Memories she’d have to share soon enough.
For now though, for this second in time, as she slid into the town car with him, she was the woman she wanted to be.
There would be time to say all those things.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Her mind was officially blown.
She’d seen countless ballets and watched thousands of modern dances, but Alvin Ailey had been her favorite since she was a girl, and also her fantasy. While other dancers dreamed of becoming a prima ballerina, Shannon had pictured herself in a starring role in the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. The company’s modern ballet style and athleticism had always spoken to her. As a young kid on the outskirts of town, growing up in a broken-down neighborhood, she’d been determined to dance her way out of her circumstances, and to win a spot in a prestigious company.
That had never happened, and while she’d moved on, picked herself up, and carved out a career that she loved, a small piece of her heart still longed to be the one on stage, still wished to captivate an audience as she herself had just been captivated.
As they neared the end of the show, the dancers moved with such passion, such exuberance that her heart was full, overcome with their joy in movement. She squeezed Brent’s hand in the darkened theater. He’d been such a trooper. She knew he wasn’t innately a dance fan. Most men weren’t. Hell, her own brothers didn’t go to the theater with her. And while she doubted Brent had personally delighted in the production, the mere fact that he’d taken her, watched with her, and focused on the stage meant the world to her.
He had stepped up from the second she’d shown up at his club last week to apologize. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d do whatever it took to win her back. He’d been honest, and open, and giving, and