Page 24 of Dreaming of You

"Help me do what?"

"Make your sample favors."

She stared at him in surprise. "Are you serious? You want to fill little satin bags with potpourri?"

"Is that what the favor is?"

"It's one of them."

"You know that the guys at the wedding don't give a crap about potpourri."

"Well, the ladies do."

"And the bride calls the shots," he said, an edge of bitterness in his tone.

"What were your favors?"

"Some kind of perfumed package. I didn't pay much attention."

She got up and reached across the table with her good hand to grab a bag of items she'd picked up at the party store. "I know you don't like potpourri; what do you think about dice, cards, and shot glasses?"

"I'm getting a little more interested," he said, as she set the items in front of him.

"Maggie and Jessica are doing both male and female favors. Like you, their grooms weren't interested in potpourri."

"What else have you got?"

"Tiny personalized bottles of Jack Daniel's." She pushed one across to him and saw the gleam of approval in his eyes.

"Nice."

"I also have a key chain bar tool and samples of men's cologne. I just need to put them in some small boxes and tie them with ribbon and put on a seal, that kind of thing."

"What are you doing for the ladies?"

"I have rustic heart favor boxes that hold a small heart-shaped candle, perfume samples, a gold heart bottle stopper, individually wrapped chocolate truffles, and some potpourri."

"Let's do it. Let's put them together. Just tell me what to do."

"You're really going to do this?"

"Consider it a gesture of good will."

"All right. I won't say no." She pushed the small boxes that needed to be put together across the table, while she started cutting ribbon to tie the satin bags holding one of the female-oriented favors.

Barrett put all his attention on the project at hand, while she was more than a little distracted by his presence, caught up in the warm, spicy scent of his aftershave, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. He was certainly a handsome man, but also a man of contradictions: cool and sophisticated, but also friendly and down-to-earth. She didn't quite know what to make of him.

Barrett had been working for nearly thirty minutes when the potpourri favor he was putting together suddenly fell apart in his hands, the lace and ribbons falling to the floor.

Instinctively they both reached for the favor at the same time, but as Kate grasped the lace, Barrett caught her arm. His warm touch sent her emotions spinning. She looked into his eyes, and her heart seemed to stop. Slowly they straightened, their eyes locked in a gaze of unmistakable attraction.

Barrett pulled her good hand to his lips, never taking his eyes off her face. He kissed her palm, and his tongue moved gently over her fingers, leaving her hot with desire. She felt herself drifting toward him, closer and closer until their faces were inches apart. She could see the faint shadow of his beard, the tiny laugh lines around his eyes. She noted every detail in that split second before his lips touched hers.

A wave of heat rushed through her and she found herself kissing him back as his hand slid around her neck and he pulled her closer.

And then the loud squealing of her cuckoo clock made them both jump back, effectively dousing the fire between them.

"What the hell was that?" Barrett demanded.

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