“More like the overbearing type.”
I took a sip of champagne, feeling a bubble or two float to my head. “I hear she’s the successful, motivated, doesn’t-have-a-hoodie-collection type.”
“Yep. But I married her anyway.”
I could’ve stared at Lachlan’s newly revealed jawline all night. It was the perfect plane for lips to travel. “Well, as long as we’re being honest, I can’t flirt with you because my husband’s here somewhere.”
“That so?”
“Yes,” I said. “He’s been on a business trip.”
“He sounds important.”
“He’s always thought so.”
Lachlan laughed. “I doubt that. Tell me, did you miss this husband?”
I tipped back my flute and drained the contents.
Lachlan took a step, bringing all that intoxicating handsomeness even closer. “Well?”
“Maybe.”
His beguiling smile curved ever so slowly. “You did, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t help it. My fingertips demanded I touch Lachlan’s hair. “I had to fix my own breakfast.” Yep, his locks were soft, with just the slightest hold of product.
“Tragic,” he said.
Now I found myself running a hand over his cheeks, full of wonder at the mix of stubble and smooth skin. “Made coffee all by myself.”
With a subtle shift, Lachlan leaned his face into my touch. “Unacceptable.”
At least seventy-five people filled the shop, yet I was only aware of one. “I thought so.”
Lachlan’s hand reached for me, and he linked a few of his fingers with mine. “Did you think about this husband of yours while he was away?”
“I didn’t want to,” I answered honestly.
Those green eyes held steady as he considered this. Then finally he said, “I bet he thought of you too.”
Had he? Was I the silliest nonwife ever to thrill at Lachlan’s words? “Why are you here?”
His laugh breezed near my ear. “Not the reception I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. I got bored with the meetings in LA.”
Probably not “tour your husband’s bathroom and get hot and bothered at the thought of using his toothpaste” bored.
“Is that so?” I studied the contrast of my small hand in his large one. Had a simple handhold from my last boyfriend ever made me this light-headed?
Lachlan watched my face, as if waiting for even a blink of rejection. “The bookshop opening is a big deal to you and your family,” he said. “I guess I wanted to be here for it.” His hand on mine tightened. “To buy books, of course.”
“Readers gotta read.”
He kissed my hand, a soft, measured imprint of his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. “Something like that.”
Oh, gosh. When Lachlan wanted to charm, he pulled out all the stops.
“So, this husband of yours?”
