Page 102 of Go Back to December

His smile is almost bashful as he lifts my hand and brushes his lips over my knuckles, chaste as a church mouse.

It sets my skin on fire.

“This is—compelling,” I stammer. “But I’m not sure the court is convinced.”

“No?”

“The court suspects that Gentleman Johnson may be an alias.”

“Is the court asking if Gentleman Johnson is real?”

“The court would like more evidence to be certain.”

Amusement tugs at his lips. “Gentleman Johnson would be happy to oblige.”

Gently, his hands stroke up my neck. He cups my chin, holding my face delicately, like it’s a crystal ornament. His touch is a tender beginning.

A first night.

He folds his mouth softly over mine, pressing promises to my lips.

Something cracks wide open inside me as I wrap my arms around Baz Johnson. The good, the bad, the strong and the broken. All the perfectly imperfect parts of him.

Slowly, he deepens the kiss, parting my mouth with his tongue, burning my skin with the rough scrape of his stubble. When his long fingers lightly trace my jaw, my faint moan draws a low rasp from his throat.

I break away to gulp a breath. As I cradle his beautiful face between my hands, I search for the words to declare all the hopes that flutter in my chest.

Fists crack against the car door. We’ve been at it so hard, we’re fogging up the windows.

But I can see Sybil standing outside, wearing the devil’s grin.

Chapter Twenty-Two

When I roll down the window, Sybil says, “Security called to report my car was on fire.”

My face is the thing in flames.

“Luiza’s coming out,” she adds. “You two might want to cool it before she gets here. I’ll meet you at the concert.”

I mumble an apology before Baz reaches across and rolls up the window. Then he turns back to me, as if to resume our previous activities.

“Everyone’s heading to the bridge dedication.”

He slumps back in the seat. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What would convince you that you can?”

His stance switches rapidly from deflation to rapt attention. “Ms. Johnson, are you hustling me?”

“Merely trying to identify possible incentives.”

The dashboard display light illuminates a flare in his green eye. “You’ll come with me?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He reaches across to brush his lips over mine before he turns off the ignition.

As we stagger out of the car, Luiza saunters over. “Did you two screw and make up?”