“I never go to bed without taking off my makeup.”
“You rarely wear makeup,” Dylan pointed out.
“That too.” Eve let out a shaky breath. Her eyes fell to his mouth. “Why do your lips look like pale red pillows?”
Eve’s observation was perhaps the most unique compliment he ever received; the beat of Dylan’s heart spiked upward.
“I have a question.” Dylan cleared his throat. “More of request. A favor, to be honest.”
“Since when do you hem and haw?” Eve asked with a quick smile that Dylan could only describe as a burst of sunshine.
“Three,” he said. “And counting.”
“What?” Eve’s head tilted slightly to her right. “Three what?”
Smiles. All for me. Dylan hated living with regrets. But he would lament the fact that he wouldn’t have the chance to keep counting Eve’s smiles. If he were honest, he would wish for the day when he lost track. He hoped for a time when just the sight of him brought a smile to her lips.
One day, Eve might find someone who opened her heart to love. But the man wouldn’t be Dylan. And that, he feared, might turn out to be his greatest regret.
Dylan still had time to avoid one mistake—something to take the sting out of saying goodbye.
“Daisy isn’t here, is she?” he asked.
“I already told you that Mrs. Dowd is watching her while I pack.” Eve lightly rapped Dylan’s temple with her fist. “You should see a doctor, slick. Short-term memory problems are nothing to fool around with.”
“My memory is fine,” Dylan assured her. Unwilling to let her distract him, he slid an arm around her waist.
“Hey. What’s the deal?”
Eve protested, but she didn’t move from his embrace—a fact Dylan found encouraging. Not long ago, she would have knocked him on his ass if he attempted to hold her close.
“You said my lips look like pillows,” he said.
“Did I?” Eve’s eyes darted away from his. “Are you certain? Someone told me your memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“Unsubstantiated rumors.” Dylan chuckled. “Deny it all you want; I know the truth.”
“If I did make such ridiculous comment, so what?” Eve lifted her gaze to his, her eyes defiant. “I stated an opinion. Big deal.”
“The way my lips look and how they feel are two different things,” Dylan reasoned. “As a favor? Kiss me.”
“So that I can tell you if your lips feel like pillows?” Eve scoffed. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”
“Aren’t you curious? Where’s your sense of adventure?” Dylan taunted.
“Daily life is all the adventure I need,” Eve told him.
“Then why are you still in my arms?” Dylan tightened his hold in case Eve decided to bolt. She took a deep breath, but she didn’t move. He pushed his advantage. “In less than twenty-four hours we’ll say goodbye. Who knows when we might see each other again? Now or never is a bit extreme. But…”
“What if you have a girlfriend the next time we meet? You could be engaged. Or married.” Eve didn’t seem thrilled at either prospect.
Dylan knew that while Eve lingered in his thoughts, the chance of another woman slipping past her memory was slim to none. He kept the fact to himself.
“You never know,” he said with a shrug. “I could turn the corner one day and meet the love of my life.”
“Some chances never come around again.” Eve’s eyes dropped to Dylan’s mouth. “I am curious.”
“Then kiss me.”
When Eve licked her bottom lip, Dylan stifled a groan.
“Should I?” she asked. “Do I dare?”
Tension crackled between. In Dylan’s estimation, an eternity passed. Would she? Wouldn’t she? The ball was in her court. Hope died then was revived in his heart with every ticking second.
“No strings?” Eve threaded her fingers through Dylan’s hair. “Just a kiss? Nothing more?”
“If you throw me to the ground and have your way with me, I won’t object.” Dylan couldn’t resist putting the idea in her head—just in case. “But when you stop, so will I.”
“Deal.” Eve gave a decisive nod. “One kiss.”
Dylan almost collapsed with relief. Locking his knees, for a measure of extra support, he leaned against the counter. The movement brought Eve closer until their thighs touched and her breasts were pressed firmly against his chest.
“One kiss,” Dylan agreed. Secretly, he wished for more.
“Two wouldn’t be terrible,” Eve said, unknowingly fulfilling his heart’s desire. “Or three. Maybe.”
Dylan smothered a grin. As his pulse raced with anticipation, he kept the tone of his voice as casual as possible.
“You’re in the driver’s seat,” he told her with a solemn nod.
Gaze intently focused, Eve’s forefinger brushed his bottom lip. Standing on tiptoe, she did the same with her mouth. She barely touched, yet Dylan felt a jolt of electricity.
“Soft,” she whispered. “More?”
“Yes.” Dylan sighed. “Please.”
Finally, Eve kissed him. Nothing tentative or shy. She kissed him. Full-on, no holds barred. Surprised—thrilled—Dylan kissed her back.
Eve tasted like strawberries. Sweet with a kick of tartness that lingered on Dylan’s tongue. She was in charge, set the pace, but he couldn’t stop his arms from lifting her off her feet until her mouth was level with his.
With a hum of approval, her lips curved into a smile seconds before she deepened the kiss. Seconds passed. Minutes? Dylan stopped counting.
“Good?” Eve asked, lifting her head just enough to meet his gaze.
“Mm,” Dylan answered. “Very good. May I have another?”
“Oh, yes.” Eve cupped his cheek, the gray of her eyes almost silver. “I can’t stop at one.”
Eve traced the curve of Dylan’s bottom lip with the tip of her tongue before her teeth followed, nipping lightly.
“Stop teasing,” Dylan warned.
“I’m not teasing,” Eve said with a husky laugh. “I’m tasting. You’re almost as delicious as a piece of cheesecake.”
“Almost?” Dylan frowned. “You would pick dessert over me?”
Eve’s answer was to cover his mouth. If kiss number one curled Dylan’s toes, number two seared his soul. He forgot his promise to be a passive participant. How could he remember when all cognitive thought stopped the second her lips touched his?
Turning, Dylan lifted Eve. He sat
