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Unable to stop myself, I climbed onto his lap, draping my legs over his right thigh and looping my arms around his neck. “I don’t think it was bad advice from your mom. She wanted you to respect women. It was sweet, actually.”
He wrapped one arm around my waist underneath my cardigan and draped another hand on my thigh, hugging me tighter. The warmth of his hand seeped through the tights I was wearing. I could feel the tension and rigidity loosening from his frame.
With my forehead pressed to his neck where I could smell how utterly delicious he was, I started to softly sing the Disney song “Let It Go.”
His chest shook with silent laughter when I stopped after one awful chorus. “What are you doing?” he asked, stupefied.
“Making you laugh. Making you let go of all that stress.” I looked up at him, our faces inches apart. “Did it work?”
His smile slipped as he homed in on my mouth. “You are something else, Betty Mouton. And you really are a terrible singer.”
His hand squeezed my leg, his expression tender.
“Told you I was. I don’t lie.” I basked in his softening mood, his sweet side coming out. “Wanna sleep at my house tonight?”
He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Fuck yeah, I do.”
I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck and pressed my forehead to his. “You don’t have to go to the store after work tonight?”
Because he seemed to live there when he wasn’t at rehearsal.
“Not tonight,” he whispered against my lips, grazing his nose along mine, his palm running a soothing pattern up and down my spine. My heart squeezed at the tenderness of his touch and the look in his eyes.
“Okay, guys, Peter’s ready—oops! So sorry.” Meredith was halfway down the ramp. “Uh, Peter wants to get started.” Then she headed quickly back up the ramp toward the stage.
“Cat’s out of the bag now,” I told him.
“That we’re dating?” he asked, brow raised.
“Uh-huh.”
“So weareofficially dating?” His smile widened, his grip on me tightening.
I snorted a laugh. “Of course, we are dummy. I would never introduce a guy to my hippie mom otherwise.”
“How many guys have met your mom beside me?”
I thought about it for a second. “One.”
His jaw tightened, a frown pinching his brow. “Who?” His voice dropped to a dangerous vibration. It made me smile.
“Finn,” I finally answered on a laugh, putting him out of his misery.
He growled and kissed me hard, gripping the back of my head so I couldn’t get away. Not that I was trying to.
Then his kiss turned gentle and we were gazing at each other in a way that we never had. The moment wasn’t consumed with heat, but with a softer warmth that resonated straight through my chest, electrifying my heart to beat faster.
He held my nape but pulled away, the intensity of his gaze sending a shot of adrenaline through me. No man had ever looked at me like that. Like I was precious and so very important…to him. It both amazed and terrified me. But most of all, it called to me, wanting me to fall deeper into this feeling of wonderment. And sweet belonging.
“Come on, lovebirds,” Frank called down the rampway.
We both jumped, as if snapping out of a trance.
For a few seconds, Bennett still held me in place, then he gripped my waist and lifted me to my feet. Before I could take one step, he grabbed me around the waist and hauled me back, wrapping his arms tight.
He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. “Thank you,” he whispered.
I wrapped my arms over his. “For what?”
