Hollywood Ever After (Red Carpet 1)

My mother arched an eyebrow. “Not at all.”

Josh smiled at her. “Then we should find our seats.” He held the door and found seats for us all–quite a gallant escort. His hand never let go of mine. Or I never let go of his. I’m not sure which.

I don’t remember a single thing about the film. Sitting beside him in the dark was a lesson in restraint. I wanted to talk to him, to stare at him and listen to the sound of his voice. Instead I had to sit, growing more and more aware of his physical presence—and my instant response.

He’d pulled my arm through his once we sat, enabling us to lean close together. For almost two hours, he filled my senses. His scent was intoxicating, a mix of shaving cream, the musk of his soap, and him. Every time he shifted, his scent would stir and fill my nostrils, making me list toward him. His long fingers twined between mine, drawing light caresses across the back of my hand.

He bent over, whispering, “You look lovely.” He pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply. His breath tickled behind my ear, lifting the hair along my neck and teasing my skin. My hand tightened about his convulsively, the heat in my stomach sweetly building.

His eyes met mine. The muscle in his jaw was rigid, and his nostrils flared slightly. The small fire became a roaring blaze. He was here with me. And I wanted him desperately.

I turned away, embarrassed that such a simple caress could make me shiver. I thought I saw him smile, but didn’t risk looking at him again. With only his scent and his hand on mine, I was throbbing. No amount of calming breaths or readjusting in my seat helped. I might not be able to control my heart, but I had to rein in my desire.

As the end credits began to roll, I wished it was a longer film.

It took a few minutes to get out of the auditorium, then arrange an exit with the minimal press possible. Press hadn’t been allowed inside the auditorium or the lobby, or our reunion would have been fodder for the morning papers. I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready for that.

“That was really fun, Shannon.” Natalie was thrilled.

Helen patted her brother on the arm. “It was a decent film, Josh. I’m not sure why you’re so unhappy with it.”

Natalie timidly glanced at him. “You didn’t like it?”

Josh shrugged. “I’m not much of an action film star.”

“Oh, I think so.” Natalie blushed. “I mean, you were great.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you, Natalie.”

Natalie smiled.

My mother, who had said very little since Josh arrived, asked, “Is there some after-party you have to go to, Shannon? Josh? I can take Natalie back to the hotel.”

Josh’s hand pulled me closer to him, slipping my hand through his arm. “No. At least, nothing I’m attending.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve found the most sinful pastry shop. It’s French and deliciously bad for you,” Helen said to Natalie. “What do you think, Natalie? Are you too tired, or should we go have some sweets? Or we could do it another time.”

“Up for it?” Josh asked.

Everyone was. I relaxed a bit. No goodbyes, not yet.

“Take Claire,” Helen offered. “We’ll take a cab and meet you there.”

Shannon nodded. “We’ll be right behind you.” She winked.

Josh had a car, a small silver sports car, waiting behind the theater. I arched an

eyebrow at him, smiling.

“It’s my father’s,” he said with a shake of his head.

I laughed. “Your father’s?”

Josh sighed and nodded, then held the passenger door for me. “Ladies first.”

I paused before him, letting my eyes feast on him in the dimly lit alley. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb sweeping across my lower lip. His face hovered over mine and his eyes bored into mine. On impulse I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his chest. I sighed as his arms encircled me, pulling me tight against him. And I felt content instantly. It felt so good to be in his arms again.

I wanted him to kiss me. But something told me it wouldn’t be a good idea. One kiss with Josh was never enough. And the others would be waiting. My daughter would be waiting.