“We never got to have that drink at Le Petit Homme.”
“We will the next time we visit Paris.”
“Do you remember the Six Nine?”
“Of course.” We’d gone to the club on Mass. Avenue one evening shortly before Christmas when we’d both had some free time.
“Would you mind if we went there for a drink instead of waiting for Paris?”
“I wouldn’t mind in the least.” Other than Mark admitting he loved me, I’d had better times in the City of Light.
I sat beside him and was about to fasten my own seat belt when he reached out and cupped my cheek, running his thumb over my chin and jaw. “I thought you’d have shaved by now.”
“I was thinking of keeping it like this. It reminds me of the time we spent on your island.”
“Yeah?” He traced the line of the hair above my lip. “I like it.”
“You didn’t say anything about it.”
“I wasn’t sure if you just hadn’t had time to shave.” He made himself as comfortable in his seat as he could. “I’m looking forward to feeling it all over my body.”