Becoming Mrs. Lockwood

By: K.I. Lynn

He chuckled. “It’s not something I talk about, really, but it led me to where I am today.” He took another sip. “Oh, I’m a USC graduate.”

“Maybe you can give me a tour when I come back out in the summer.” A hint that I’d be returning soon and that I’d like to see him again. Even though it was far away, just the possibility of being near him again gave me hope.

He smiled at me, his thumb caressing my fingers. “I’d love to.”

The intensity in his eyes combined with his words left me a little mesmerized. He wasn’t just blowing me off with a “sure” or “that sounds like fun.” He sounded genuinely excited about seeing me again.

I broke away from his stare, taking another sip of champagne to calm myself down. “Okay, your teens or before was somehow messed up. What about brothers or sisters?”

He cleared his throat and leaned back into his chair. “I have an older brother. He’s my best friend, and even with our hectic lives, we make sure to get together at least every other week, if not more.”

“Sounds like you work a lot.”

He nodded. “Days like this don’t happen very often.” He let out a sigh and brushed the back of his fingers across my cheek. “I would love more days like today.”

His blue eyes were dark and looking at me with so much intensity, there was hardly any volume to my response. “Me too.”

“What about you? Any siblings?”

I shook my head, using my “no” to clear my head a little and loosen his hypnotizing grip on me. “I’m an only child, but I do have a stepsister. She lives with her mom in Georgia, so I don’t see her very often.”

“Your parents are divorced?”

I nodded. “Mom’s been remarried for about five years. What about yours?”

“They’re still married.” The tone of his voice dropped.

It seemed that his parents were not his favorite topic.

“How old are you?” I asked as I raised my glass to take a sip.

His gaze locked on mine. “Thirty-one.”

The little champagne that had slipped into my mouth shot back out into the glass.

Thirty-one? Seriously. What was a hot guy like him doing hanging out with a girl thirteen years younger than him?

I chugged the rest of my glass, tipping the bottom up until every last drop was warming my veins.

“How old did you think I was?” he asked as he took the bottle out of the ice bucket and refilled my glass.

I shook my head and took another long sip. “No clue. It didn’t really matter.”

Leaning forward, he tangled our fingers together. “Then I kissed you.”

I couldn’t help but lean forward until we were only a few inches apart. “And I wondered, why?”

“Because you’re beautiful, and I had the best day that I’ve probably had in a decade with you. Because it felt right.” He pressed his lips against mine. Soft and light, and it made my brain foggy. “Have I scared you off?”

If anything, he was drawing me closer with his allure. Never had I ever been so physically affected by a boy, but Weston was no boy; he was a man.

I shook my head. “No, but I really do feel like I’m in some strange fairy tale.”

“Fairy tales are good,” he said as he leaned back again.

I stayed leaning forward. “But they’re usually just tales.”

He quirked his brow. “Won’t this be a tale when you go home?”

“True.” He was right. When I returned home, it would just be a fantastical story of a night that I spent with a prince.

“Tell me about your home.” The change of subject made me wonder if he was trying to cool it down between us.

“Well, you met my Mom.”

He nodded. “She’s a character.”

“She’s married to Mike. My dad lives in Chicago, and I get to see him about once a month and for a couple weeks in the summer.”

“How far is that from where you live?” he asked.

“It’s just over three hours.”

I lost track of how many glasses of champagne I’d consumed, but before our meal had even come, the bottle was empty. Another bottle quickly took its place, and Weston refilled our glasses.

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