One Night With Zorro

Julia sank into the folding chair. “You're imagining things.”

Nick set down his soda. “Says the woman who kisses air?”

Julia took another sip of water. Impossible. The man wouldn't let up. What did he want from her, anyway? Forgiveness for his part in messing up her future? Her affection, from one stolen night and one recently stolen kiss? Friendship. Sheesh. Think again.

His voice recaptured her attention. “And what's interesting is that you seem satisfied with him.”

Julia blinked. “Him who?”

“Your dream lover,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I am not. What's more, I don't have--”

“That helps.”

“You're crazy.”

“Excuse me, but the last time I kissed anyone it was you. And your lips are real,” he added, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. “And hot and very sweet.”

Julia widened her eyes and her pulse shot off the scale.

“I think we should end this conversation right now.”

“Thing is, by the look on your face when I saw you, all puckered up and misty-eyed and pretty, I figure Dream Lover must do it better.”

“That's not true,” she blurted, suddenly wanting to zip her mouth shut forever. Truth was that nobody had ever done it better than Nick. This was part of the reason why she hadn't been herself since Tuesday night. Just the touch of his lips on hers blazed a path into her heart, ready to be explored.