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“What if there was another way?”
His face remained utterly neutral. “Go on.”
“A boutique hotel. We save the lobby, maybe one of the theaters. We use the land next door as was part of your original proposal, and we make something smaller that works with the existing architecture instead of against it. The restoration shrinks in size, which cuts down the cost, and we still have new, attractive accommodations for tourists to flock to. Except they’re even better, because?—”
“Because the hotel will be an attraction in itself.”
“Exactly!” I beamed at him, then rocked back. “Exactly,” I repeated in a more measured tone. “Instead of campaigning against each other at the Wine Festival Gala, we could join forces on a new proposal for the council and have them vote on it. We could float the idea to the mayor at our progress meeting to see if he’d even entertain it, then go from there.”
“Hmm, it does seem like the chances of getting this passed are higher than either of our original proposals on their own,” he noted.
“We’ll satisfy the councilmembers who want to preserve the town’s history while acknowledging that change can be good.”
He watched me. I couldn’t read his face, and it was making my pulse speed up. When he spoke, he didn’t sound judgmental. Just curious. “And you’d approve something like that as New Elwood’s chief historical preservation officer? You’d be okay with most of this theater being knocked down?”
I tore my gaze away from his to glance at the lobby, the tiles, the chandelier, the sweeping staircases. “I think…” I let out a harsh breath, eyes sliding to all those glittering, newly cleaned crystals hanging from the ceiling. “I think part of what makes me care so much about historical preservation is a desire to feel connected to this place. New Elwood is the only home I’ve ever known. It… It healed me, when I was a hurt little girl with nothing and no one. But I’m learning that sometimes things need to be made new. And in this instance, I think there’s room for compromise.”
I kept my eyes on the chandelier, because I was afraid that if I looked at Sebastian he’d see the tears glazing my eyes. But when I felt his fingers press on the edge of my chin, I had no choice but to face him and see whatever truth would be written in his gaze.
When our eyes met, my breaths became shallower. His expression was soft. His thumb traced the edge of my bottom lip as he moved closer, bringing his chest nearly close enough to brush mine. “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, Charlie Washington Reeves,” he told me quietly. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble.”
“I might be able to forgive you…if you work with me on this.”
“I’ll have to run some numbers,” Sebastian warned, but his free hand was pressing against the small of my back. “Talk to my team. See if it’s possible to save this place at all.”
Hope sparked, and I sucked in a hard breath. We’d moved together, and I could feel the hard pack of his abs against my stomach, the muscles of his chest pressed against my breasts. My fingers curled into his shoulders. “But you’ll look into it? You really think maybe…”
“It could work,” he finished—and he kissed me.
It wasn’t like the first time. We didn’t tear and rip and bite. But as Sebastian dragged me closer and crushed his lips to mine, this kiss was somehow more intense than the first. Its power started from somewhere deeper inside me, from some sliver of shared ground.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and let out a rough little grunt as Sebastian dropped his hands to my butt a second before clawing at the fluttery fabric of my dress so he could grab my curves, skin to skin. His middle finger traced the edge of my panties where it cut across my cheek before he placed his hand flat on my ass again.
He squeezed it roughly. “Love your ass,” he said against my lips. “I dream of your ass, Charlie. Dream of the day we met when I had you on my table with nothing on.”
I buried my laugh in the crook of his neck. “You are such a pervert.”
“Only when it comes to you.” He picked me up so I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist, his hands squeezing and shaping my ass as he tilted his head so I could kiss him again.
Incandescent happiness fizzed in my veins. I pulled away only far enough so that our noses touched and smiled at him. “Want to know a secret?”
“I want to know all your secrets.”
“It was Theater One.”
He pulled his head back, frowning. “What was?”
My smile grew. “I let Billy Thompson get to second base in Theater One. First time a guy touched my nipples. It gave me such a thrill I thought that’s what an orgasm was until I started mastur—” I squealed as he threw me over his shoulder and started walking toward the stairs. “What are you doing?” I asked, laughing.
“I’m taking you to Theater One, and I’m giving you an actual orgasm or three so you never mention another man touching your nipples ever again.”
Hanging off his shoulder, I cackled. “We were fifteen.”
“I don’t care.” His shoulder jarred into my stomach as he started climbing the stairs, hands clamped on my bare thighs and moving higher. We made it up the stairs, and Sebastian set me down on wobbling legs so he could take my face in his hands and kiss me again, except this time with more tongue.
I melted into him, clinging to his shirt, feeling the shape of him beneath the fabric. He groaned, walking me just around the corner so he could press me against the wall, his hand sliding down my leg to pick up my knee and hook it over his hip. My dress pooled at the top of my thigh, his broad hand sliding from my knee to my hip. Sparks danced over my skin wherever he touched.
Then he rolled his hips, and I felt the bulge of him against my core. I gasped, and my head fell back against the wall.
