Page 138 of Casanova LLC

She looked almost shyly at me. “That’s everything I own in the world right there.”

We stared at each other.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Lemme check the preference sheet.”

“Or you could kiss me.”

I grimaced. “I’d love to, but…I have an appointment.”

The look on her face. I could only stand it for a grand total of about a millisecond before I held up a hand. “I joke, I joke.”

She flung herself at me, fists pummeling my chest. “Not funny,” she said, laughing.

“I thought it was pretty funny.”

“Which is why you were a Casanova, not a comedian.”

I pulled her giggling mouth to mine and made it up to her. I peeled off her coat. She kicked off her shoes. Our arms went around each other, my hands compelled to roam over her curves. I had missed this so much. I had missed her so much. I couldn’t believe I didn’t have to miss either anymore. I’d been sure I would be missing this, her, us for the rest of my life.

Giddy, I swept her up and carried her over to the bed, never leaving her lips. Until I threw her down on the mattress, that is.

“Hey!” she laughed. “When did you become so cavalier?”

“I believe the word is playful. And there may be a lot about me that might surprise you.” I leapt onto the bed, landing beside her.

“Like you’re joining the circus?”

I had to laugh. I felt so light. I reached for her cheek. “For the longest time I knew who I was, but I couldn’t be who I am. Tonight I want you to be with me.”

Her kiss told me she wanted that, too.

My hand went to her blouse. I eased one button out of its hole. But she pulled back. “Wait. There’s something I want first.” She sat upright. “Play me Forever.”

“The song?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But that was always played for a woman leaving.”

“So now you get to sing it to the one who’s staying.” She took my hand. “Make your song ours.”

I dropped one more soft kiss to her lips and stood. Went to the corner of the room and retrieved the guitar. I sat back down on the bed and began strumming the chords. “I haven’t had time to warm up my voice, so no guarantees. You might leave after all. Here goes.”

Then I sang.

“A lost and lonely man comes to the gate. She has to watch and wait. The evening sun is fading now, but her work is never done. With waiting breath?—”

Claire’s voice came in and it stole the words right out of me:

“With waiting breath and open hands, she daydreams he would be her man and take her far away to lands where fires burn and flames are fanned.”

To cover my shock, I strummed an interlude and said, “You memorized it?”

“Yes.”

“And you sing?”

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