Champagne Kisses (The Kisses 4)

but I thought I would just hang around here. I have work to catch up on," I said. Daniel frowned.

"Young lady, I will not have you hanging around here waiting for me to die. I promise I won't go tonight. Go out. Go dancing. I want to know you are having a fun evening, not moping around here. I'm tired of everyone putting their lives on hold waiting for me. So get out of here, and go have some fun." It would have been a marvelous speech, except his voice gave out and he began coughing at the end. I held onto his hand, watching his thin body shake.

Bianca stood, walking quickly to the oxygen tank and upping the flow. It hissed like an angry snake, but Daniel managed to take deeper breaths, his body settling back to normal. I looked away from him, noticing the pictures on the nightstand next to the oxygen tank. There was the picture of Jack and Daniel playing football in the handcrafted frame from that Father's Day long ago. The colors were worn and faded, the frame obviously having been displayed for many years. Next to it was a picture of a smiling Robbie and Daniel on a small sailing vessel. A picture of the two boys sitting on my lap reading a Dr. Seuss book occupied another frame. The last one was an old black and white picture of Bianca blowing him a kiss. A lump grew in my throat. I didn't know how Bianca managed to do this without bursting into tears at every moment. She was a strong woman.

Bianca smiled at her husband as the coughing stopped, running her fingers along his cheek. He looked up at her with adoration in his eyes, catching her hand and kissing it gently. She bent and kissed him back on his forehead before going back and sitting in her chair, watching him with loving eyes.

"If it will make you feel better, I'll go out." I would do anything to make him happy. "There's a restaurant I've been wanting to try," I lied. There was no restaurant. I wasn't even hungry, but I knew he wanted to see me go out and enjoy myself.

"Good. And don't think you can just hide downstairs. I'll send Dean after you and have him drag you to that restaurant kicking and screaming." He gave me one of his no-nonsense looks and I couldn't help but smile.

"That will be hard because it's Dean's night off too," I said. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Oh, it is?" Daniel gave me a questioning look, but before I could read into it he shrugged and added, "Then I'll just have to send Bianca and Emma. They may not be able to lift you as easily, but between the two of them, I think they could at least get you tied up and in the car."

Bianca gave a girlish giggle. "Please, we'd even get her tied to the chair at the restaurant." I smiled at the image of the older woman wrapping me with rope like an old vaudeville villain while Emma carried me into the car, the two of them cackling and twirling at their mustaches.

"Go out. Have a good time tonight. Please, it will make me feel better knowing that one of us is having a fun evening." He looked up at me, his eyes still bright despite the paleness of his face. I couldn't say no to him.

"All right. I'll go. I'm bringing you back some dessert, though." I gave him a firm look, and he laughed.

I stood up and headed toward the door. As I stepped outside, Bianca called out after me, "Make sure it's something chocolate!" I could hear Daniel laughing as I closed the door.

Chapter 25

Present Day

I had intended to go to a rustic Italian restaurant just a few miles from the Saunders' mansion. I had intended to walk in, sit down, eat lasagna and tiramisu, have a glass of wine, and then head back and take a long hot shower. That was what I had intended. Instead, I was standing in front of Dean's apartment building.

I could see a light coming from his corner unit, the yellow window shining cheerfully into the dark night. The wind blew across the yard, rattling the remaining leaves on the trees and making the fallen ones skitter across the sidewalk. The moon hung low, orange and full against the night sky. I was about to go back to my car, to drive to that little restaurant and actually do what I was supposed to do, but the memory of that kiss pulled at me. Now that we had kissed, even just once, I wanted more.

Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand was knocking at his door. I looked down at the brave appendage in shock, wondering what the hell I was thinking. I needed to go home. I needed to leave this where it was. The wind blew my hair out of its bun, but I couldn't find the rubber-band, so I just smoothed it down. No good was going to come of this, only heartache. I should turn around and run back to my car and just leave him thinking it was some doorbell ditch, I thought.

The door opened, allowing the warm light to spill out into the dark. He stood there, wearing only pajama pants. My mouth went wet, then immediately dry at the sight of his bare chest, the muscles taut and hard. The eagle tattoo looked exactly the same, but now there was a scar from the bullet wound above the eagle's head. His nipples hardened as the night air hit them, and I had to force my eyes away from their perfection.

"Rachel? What are you doing here?" he asked softly. His brows came together and he stepped out to put his hands on my shoulders. "Is everything all right?"

A red-hot blush seared up my neck. He was worried something had happened to Daniel. I was here because I couldn't stop thinking about his kiss, not because anything was wrong. I suddenly didn't know what to say.

"Here, come inside. It's cold out there." He ushered me into his home, carefully shutting out the night behind me. "Let me throw on a shirt. I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable."

He disappeared into a small room off to the left that I assumed was his bedroom. The apartment was comfortably furnished. A brown leather sofa and recliner faced a huge TV, a gas fireplace's flame dancing merrily underneath it. A small, heavy wooden table with two chairs sat in the kitchen, but it was covered in mail and random odds and ends. Canvas paintings hung on every wall. The one on the mantle I even suspected might be a Renoir. The man loved his art.

"Is everything okay?" Dean now wore a light gray T-shirt with the DS Oil and Gas logo emblazoned on the the front. It was easier to think without his muscles tempting me to touch them. The kitchen smelled delicious, and I could see something boiling on the stove. I felt guilty for disrupting his night off. "Please, take off your jacket and stay awhile. You hungry? I made my favorite beef stew and I always make too much."

I carefully took off my shoes, placing them neatly by the door and setting my jacket on top of them. "I don't mean to intrude. I'm not really even sure why I'm even here. I meant to go to this Italian restaurant, but I missed the exit, and I don't even remember turning off the highway. Suddenly, I was in your parking lot." A fresh blush crept up the back of my neck and into my scalp. Somehow, I was as nervous as a girl on a first date.

Dean laughed, a hearty and wonderful sound. "I'm actually glad you came by. It means I can stop picking up the phone every five minutes to try and get the courage to call you. Soup?"

"Yes, please. It smells wonderful," I said, stepping into his bright kitchen. Everything was organized and meticulous, except for the couple of spots where the soup had splattered onto the stove. He lifted the lid and ladled out a delicious looking stew into a large green bowl, handing the full bowl into my waiting hands.

"Here you go. Careful, it's hot. It's a recipe I learned from one of the Army cooks and then made into my own. It isn't fancy, but it sure tastes good." He gave me one of his perfect lopsided grins as he handed me a spoon. His smile made the butterflies begin to dance in my stomach again. "We can sit on the couch."

While he poured himself a bowl, I headed over to the brown leather sofa. It was worn and soft, giving the entire room a comfortable feeling. I balanced the bowl on my lap and raised a spoonful to my mouth. Flavor rushed across my tongue, the beef and vegetables combining with just enough spice to make my mouth water for more.

"This is delicious!" I took another bite, savoring the meaty broth and the bits of potatoes and carrots. "I didn't know you could cook."

Dean sat down on the couch next to me, close enough to make my heart speed up, but far enough away to be considered proper. "I can't really cook. This is probably the only t