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Bennett immediately noticed and stepped backward to break contact. “That’s fine, Brittany. I’m sure we’ll work out what everyone needs later. Right now, we need to focus on the play itself.”
“Oh, of course, of course,” she crooned.
Was she batting her eyelashes?
I almost snorted, but I was also burning mad at her getting all handsy. Was he flirting with her back?
Then he marched toward me, a tightness around his eyes I hadn’t seen before. Nope. Definitely wasn’t flirting back with her.
I cleared my throat. “Hey.”
His head jerked up and he smiled, much brighter than the one he’d given Brittany. “Hey, yourself.”
“Soooo.” I nodded toward Brittany walking down the stage steps. “Getting some special treatment already, Mr. Lead Role?”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Uh, not the kind I was looking for, Ms. Lead Role.”
“Is there a particular kind of special treatment you’re used to as big man on stage?”
“No.” His hazel eyes looked greener tonight, glinting with mischief. “Not something I’m used to. But there is something I want.”
“What’s that?”
“To take you on a date.”
I swear to everything holy, my heart stopped for a solid two seconds. I was just playing around, but the grave expression on his face told me he most definitely wasn’t teasing.
“Come again?”
That knee-buckling smile spread across his face—the kind that harnessed power to weaken females into silly, giddy states. And yes, even though I was currently falling under its spell, I kept my snarky visage in place.
“Peter’s idea.” He nodded toward the director. “That old theater Golden Oldies is playingBarefoot in the Park,if you can believe it. I thought we could go see it and talk about the characters.”
Not a real date.
“Oh.” I heard the disappointment in my own voice.
His smile slipped. “I mean, I could just buy it off Amazon, but I thought it would be fun to see it on the big screen since it was playing locally.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
He inched closer, and for some reason, my body decided she was good right where she was, wallowing in his delicious man-scent.
“We could catch some dinner beforehand.”
“No.”
“Why not? Don’t you eat?”
“Pfft. I love food.” But I was afraid of these mixed signals my brain and body were giving me.
“My treat. It’d be good if we got to know each other better.”
“Why?”
He smiled, that merry mischief glint in his eyes. “It would help us onstage.”
He was right, but…
