The kiss was still a doozy.

When he lifted his head, I was having trouble breathing and I was holding on to his shoulders because my legs had gone weak.

“Want a tour?” he whispered.

Hell yes, I wanted a tour.

Though I’d prefer another kiss.

Horizontal again this time.

I didn’t share that.

I nodded.

He grinned.

Then he let me go, took my hand, and gave me a tour.

And we’ll just say I was right.

The entry was pure class.

The rest of it was like a dream.

* * * *

“I’m having Kelly clear my schedule so next week we can go to my place in Aspen.”

I sat at his side at his impressive dining room table where he sat at the head, a fork with linguine wrapped around its tines, Marcus’s homemade buttery, garlicky clam sauce dripping off it halfway to my mouth, and I looked to him.

There was a lot there. I didn’t know where to start.

So I started with the easiest part.

“Kelly?” I asked, then shoved the pasta into my mouth.

“My PA,” he answered, reaching to the bottle of sauvignon blanc that was in a silver bucket filled with ice on the table (yes, Marcus had a silver wine bucket, making me think that perhaps he had it all and I wasn’t talking about shit you could buy, just it all).

He refilled my wine while I asked my next.

“You have a place in Aspen?”

He put the bottle back and his eyes came to me as he replied, “Yes.”

I twirled linguine. “What else you got?”

“A beach house on Coronado. And a set of six lots that I bought in Englewood four years ago that had houses on them that were in a great neighborhood, but not in great shape. I had them razed and then had a number of trees planted so when the time came for me to build there I’d be in the city, close to work, but I’d have nature around me, peace, quiet, and privacy.”

A beach house in Coronado.

Nice.

And peace, quiet, and privacy.

That sounded real good.

“Mm-hmm,” I muttered to my linguine before I put it into my mouth.

“Does that trouble you?”

I chewed, swallowed, and answered, “Why would it trouble me?”

“You seem troubled,” he remarked.

I put my fork on my plate and gave him my full attention.

“I’m not troubled that evidence is suggesting you’re a lot more loaded than I thought you were, and I thought you were pretty loaded, sugar.” I said my next watching him carefully, which was the same way I was speaking, “I’m troubled because you wanna take me to Aspen next week when I’m gonna be back at work.”

His head tipped a bit to the side, but other than that he didn’t look ticked.

However, he did ask, “You’re going back to work?”

“Yes.”

“So soon?”

“It’s not soon, honey bunch,” I told him cautiously. “By the time I go back, I’ll have been on vacation for a month.”

That got me a scary look as his eyes went hard.

“You weren’t on vacation, Daisy.”

“I’ve been away,” I said quietly. “And I’m a draw. I’m not on that stage, they don’t need the rope outside and the only person who doesn’t hurt because of that is me, seein’ as Smithie has me on paid leave and he pays me a whack. But you know that, I’m sure.”

He inclined his head and kept his gaze on me. “I do.”

“So I need to get back to work.” I shot him a smile. “And anyway, I’m runnin’ out of Southern movies to watch. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood is a kickass book, but the movie sucks.”

Marcus reached for his bread, murmuring, “I’ll talk to Smithie. He can wait a week while we’re in Aspen, and when we come back, if you still want to dance, you can go back then.”

I didn’t get into the “if you still want to dance” part.

I said, “I already arranged it with Smithie, Marcus.”

He chewed his bread, swallowed, and locked his eyes on me. “I’ll rearrange it.”

Oh boy.

“Okay, sugar, just to say, that’s my job and Smithie’s my boss. I know you got a stake in that club but he’s my boss, and we got it arranged.”

“And like I’ll said, I’ll rearrange it.”

“I got a Porsche to pay for.”

“And you’re on paid leave.” He shook his head and took up his fork. “It’s too soon.”

“Honey, I need to get back to life. I had my time. I got my daisies. I did my drama. I’m not sayin’ nothin’ else is gonna spring up with all that and bite me in the ass. I’m gonna have my moments. But now, sittin’ around the house is one long moment that reminds me my life was interrupted by that asshole.”

“You won’t be thinking about that in Aspen with me.”

“True enough,” I agreed. “And I wanna do that, Marcus. I really do. I’ve never been to Aspen and I bet it’s real pretty. And it’s sweet you wanna spend time with me there. It’s just sweet you like spending time with me. But Smithie takes care of me. It’s time I take care of him right back. Maybe after a while, I can take a few days and we can go.”

“Smithie’s fine, Daisy.”

“Without me there, Smithie’s bleeding money, Marcus.”