“Why crazy?”
“Well, you probably know all the statistics about the number of marriages going down, divorce up.”
“I think statistics are just a numbers game and a matter of luck. If the right person comes along, every statistic is meaningless.”
“Winston! Is it possible that you’re a closet romantic?”
He glowered. I laughed. He shook his head, smiling.
“Why didn’t you mention that a couple of weeks ago? I would have upgraded you much faster.”
“Does that mean I’m finally in your good graces?”
“Yes, but careful. Don’t rest on your laurels.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I shimmied in my seat, smiling. I was just so full of energy that I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Put them on the table? Hold them next to me?
And why was I overthinking every tiny action?
After the waiter brought our wine, Winston and I clinked glasses. He held my gaze the entire time. I didn’t know why, but I seemed even more susceptible to him this evening. The roast beef arrived quickly, and it was delicious. Usually, I’d pay more attention to the food and the ambiance, but now I was too consumed by him—feeling his skin on mine every time he touched my hand, agonizing over hi
s nearness whenever he shifted his legs closer to mine under the table, but not quite touching me.
“You’re happy,” he stated. That dreamy smile on my face was a dead giveaway.
“This is a fabulous evening. Of course, I’m in a great mood.”
I felt so in sync with him tonight, as if the mere fact that we were out of San Francisco had allowed us each to shed some of our walls, to be ourselves.
We stayed at our table long after we finished our roast beef, ordering another glass of wine and speaking about our families. We only went up when they announced they were closing the restaurant.
When had the evening flown by? I didn’t want it to end.
Winston walked side by side with me. I was so aware of his nearness. Our arms were almost touching.
I stopped in front of my door.
“Well, goodnight,” I said.
Winston merely smiled.
“What?”
“This is my room.”
“Really?”
To demonstrate, he held his keycard in front of the handle. It unlocked. He pushed the door open, brushing my shoulder. My breath caught. He stepped closer. He’d never looked at me with so much intensity—his gaze was almost feral.
Chapter Seventeen
Sienna
When he touched his lips to mine, I forgot what I was about to say. I couldn’t even think anything beyond how much I wanted him, how much I needed him. Winston cupped the back of my head as if he didn’t intend to let me go. He kissed me as if he was determined to possess me, claim me. And I wanted nothing more than to relent.
He guided us both into the room. The door closed with a bang. I shook in his arms, already overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his body.