Starry-Eyed Love (Spark House)
“When was that?” I meet his gaze in the mirror.
“When you stayed here the first time and made Crêpes Suzette in the morning.”
“You fixed my hair.” I tip my chin down. “And kissed the back of my neck? I thought maybe I’d imagined it.”
“That was when I knew I was in trouble. You were so tempting, I lost my head. I promise not to do that until we get home tonight.” His lips leave my skin, and he raises his hands, revealing a box in one of them.
He holds it in front of me and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Go ahead and open it.”
He doesn’t let go of the box but holds it in his palm, allowing me to flip it open. A stunning necklace with a pale pink crystal heart is wrapped in a diamond-encrusted shooting star. I’ve never seen anything like it.
“This is too much,” I breathe.
“Always better than not enough.” He kisses my shoulder again. “I’m trying not to overwhelm you, but when I saw it, I thought of you in this dress and felt they would go perfectly together. Can I put it on for you?”
“Yes. Please. It’s beautiful.” I bow my head so he can fasten the necklace, and I’m not disappointed when his lips press against the nape.
“There you go.”
I look at my reflection in the mirror. The heart sits just below the hollow of my throat. I turn to face him and smooth my hands over his chest, looping them behind his neck. “Thank you so much, Jackson, for everything.”
“Absolutely my pleasure, always.” He drags his fingers gently down my cheek. “I want to kiss you, but I know if I do, it will be hard to stop.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I lick my lips in anticipation. All I have on is a little gloss. My makeup artist told me she didn’t want to mess with natural beauty despite my eye rolls. I tug on the back of his neck, and he gives me a wry smile but dips down and brushes his lips over mine.
“We should go.”
“The sooner we go, the sooner we can come home, and I can model the other gift for you.”
He groans and chuckles, then steps back, out of my personal space. “This is going to be one hell of a long night.”
The drive to the hotel feels like it takes forever. Especially with the way Jackson keeps kissing my shoulder and finding reasons to touch me.
I’m shocked when we reach the hotel, and the entrance is roped off. Paparazzi and bystanders line the street. “What’s going on? Why are all these people here?”
“It’s a charity auction. Some of the people attending are famous.”
Up until now, I’ve only been to private events and dinners, so I’m unaccustomed to this kind of fanfare. “Like you?”
“No, more like movie stars.”
“Movie stars are attending? Will I know any of them?”
I can’t imagine what my expression must be, considering the way he throws his head back with a laugh. “It’s possible, yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before? What if I start fangirling all over someone famous and make an ass out of myself?”
“You didn’t fangirl over me.” His voice is laced with sarcasm and humor.
“I didn’t even know who you were when I first met you!”
“You know I’m kidding, right? I’m not famous.”
“You’re not exactly low-profile, either. And you didn’t even look remotely the same. Besides, if I had recognized you and realized who you were, you might have reconsidered approaching me the way you did, and then we wouldn’t be here, with me freaking out over the possibility of famous people looking at my Etsy creation.”
He plasters his mouth to mine, which startles me, and is probably the point. I think I’m halfway to an actual nervous breakdown. I sink into the kiss and Jackson. One of his hands curls around mine, and his lips turn up in a smile despite the fact that we’re kissing.
I pull back and realize I’m fisting the lapels of his tux, and he’s gripping the door handle with his free hand, preventing the driver from opening it.
“To be continued.” He kisses the tip of my nose and releases the door handle.
He exits the vehicle first and holds out his hand. I slip my fingers into his palm and step out on the red carpet—which I’ve just noticed. He threads his arm through mine, and I grip his forearm tightly. He bends so his lips are at my ear. “This is the most overwhelming part. Just smile and try not to look directly at anyone who shouts at you because they’ll blind you with the flash. I’ve got you, London.”
“I trust you.”
“Smile and hold for the count of five. Then we head for the doors.”
“Got it.”
His lips find my temple and the flurry of flashes reminds me of a lightning storm. Media shout questions. I hear Selene’s name and my own and Jackson’s, but he urges me forward, and I cling to him as we walk briskly across the carpet and up the steps.