Page 45 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
Her mouth parted, and then she nodded shyly. “I’d love to.”
He fitted her against him, well aware dancing on a boat meant holding on tight and not making any big moves. Not that he was going to bust out and do the Stanky Leg. Edith Piaf would rise from her grave in the Père Lachaise Cemetery and drown him in the Seine for that indignity.
She came up to his breastbone, he discovered, when she laid her head on his chest. They swayed as the strands of the accordion faded. He looked out across the Seine. The music could fade, but this moment never would. He had his dream girl in his arms for the first time, and suddenly the night sky seemed to be raining down stars on him.
God, he loved Paris.
They stayed out there for some time, and when the boat finally docked, they went back inside to deposit their glasses and thank the chef and the staff. As they walked down the gangplank, she took his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. When they reached the bottom, she turned to him in the golden lights on the quay and leaned in close, the barest of a brush from her against his side. “I’ve been meaning to ask you all night… Did you wear one of your amusing shirts under your suit?”
He’d been hoping she would ask, and he liked that she was coming to know him better. Certainly after what they’d just shared, the shirt he’d chosen seemed apt.
“I did,ma belleJacqueline.” He deftly flicked the jacket open.
Her gorgeous mouth twitched, and then she laughed. “Legendary Kisser. I see. That’s quite an advertisement, but having just experienced your product, so to speak, I can see how you’d feel you have the confidence to back it up.”
“My dear Jacqueline,” he told her, looking into her liquid gaze, “I stand by my product.”
“I can see why.” She swung their hands. “Being a sommelier, I might need another taste to decide if we’re talking about a gold or silver ribbon here.”
His knees went a little weak, but he didn’t care. The way she was looking at him, with heat and amusement in her eyes, would keep him standing. “What would you suggest?”
She cupped his neck again, her fingers caressing his nape in a way that had him thinking he might just turn into a puddle. “We have a very prescribed way of deciding. You taste… You sip…”
When she ran a finger across his nape, he knew he was a goner.
“You savor.” Her voice was suddenly breathless. “Andthenyou decide.”
There was a sudden heavily lidded look to her eyes, and he drew himself up to fight off a wash of light-headedness. She was going to kill him, but it would be a good death. “Taste, sip, and savor away.”
And she did, leaving them both breathing hard.
When she drew back, she murmured, “A gold ribbon for sure. Now I must bid you good night. Thank you, Dean, I had a really good time.”
She let go of his hand and started walking down the quay.
He shook his head and jogged after her. “Hey! Do you want me to help you catch a cab? Walk you home?”
She gave a contented sigh and then gestured to the sky. “No, I want to walk around a little. That’s the other thing I’ve missed. Walking in Paris.A tout à l’heure.”
He let her go, understanding. Paris had its own allure at night, and when you were heady with romance and a good meal, wandering the streets was like walking in a nighttime fairy tale of sorts. He followed suit, walking back to Nanine’s, his chest light as air, his mind dancing with images of their next date.
And wine… Somehow he couldn’t stop thinking about all she’d told him about wine. She made it more interesting, what with all the history she knew. Sexier, for certain. But it added a certain something to know about the families behind the wine, to hear someone passionate tell their story. He thought of the cave again and his “It” idea and sent up another intention for everything to become clear to him.
When he arrived through the back door, he heard the scrape of chairs and followed the sound to their family table. As expected, everyone was waiting for him—even Thea and Jean Luc—and they all had mostly knowing smiles on their faces. Okay, so Brooke still looked worried, but that was Brooke. He gestured to their digestives, an array of brandy and Chartreuse.
“We need to add Maury to the digestif menu,” he told them as Brooke nudged Sawyer in the ribs. “I had it tonight, and it’s out of this world.”
“And was the beautiful Jacqueline out of this world?” Brooke asked with her usual directness.
“I’d say that’s accurate.” He gave a grin, not that they didn’t already have his number. “Sawyer, do you have some poetic quote to describe the best date of your life?”
Madison nudged Kyle this time, who jerked in his chair, and Thea clapped her hands in delight. “I want to hear it, Sawyer,” she called.
“Nope, none come to mind,” Sawyer said with a straight face.
Laughter sputtered out of everyone. “Come on, Doc,” Dean cajoled.
He straightened his glasses. “I’m drawing a blank. I’m out of practice.”
