Surprisingly, Gwendolyn is not nearly as upset about Lincoln’s lack of date as I anticipated. She says something about it probably being for the best, all things considered. Whatever that means.

Despite my protest that we should arrive separately at the event, Lincoln insists we take one car. That way he can review his speech again on the way. When he stumbles on a word, he lifts a hand to his hair, and I have to smack it away before he can mess it up since it’s been styled with product.

“I really hope I don’t mess this up tonight.” he says, then starts the whole thing from the beginning again.

“You’ll be fantastic,” I assure him. “It’s only five minutes. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I know.” He taps his fingers on the armrest. “This whole event is just … not really my thing. I don’t do tuxedos and five hundred dollar a plate dinners.”

“It’s not for nothing, Linc. It’s a fundraiser for a brand new wing in the NICU, and support for families who need it. I know you’re used to projects with more tangible, visible results, but you’re still supporting something that’s going to help a lot of people. Even though you believe your family is hosting it for the wrong reasons, your intentions are pure.” I put a hand on his knee and squeeze. “You need to approach it from your own moral standpoint, Lincoln. You would do this for the right reasons, so stand behind those.”

He slips his fingers between mine. “Is your lipstick the kind that rubs off?”

“What?” I thought I’d done a great job at giving him a pep talk, and he’s asking about my lipstick again. “Are you seriously still on this? It’s not red.”

“Is it or isn’t it the kind that rubs off?”

“It doesn’t rub off, but I have to eat dinner and pose for pictures. I can’t—”

His mouth covers mine, tongue sweeping inside, softly, tenderly. After a few long seconds he pulls back and trails gentle fingers along my cheek. “I don’t know how every man who crosses your path doesn’t fall in love with you. Everything about you is incredible.”

I laugh, embarrassed. “I don’t know about that.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t dismiss the compliment, Wren. I have a lot of words I want to say, but I’m pretty sure none of them are appropriate at this very moment, so I’m going to leave it at you being incredible and me being lucky enough to have captured your attention. Also, you look stunning tonight. And if you don’t have plans, I’d like it if you spent the weekend with me.”

“You’re kind of all over the place right now, aren’t you?” I smooth out his lapels, even though they don’t need it.

“Yes, I am, but I meant what I said, and I’d really like it if you said yes to spending the weekend. It would make the rest of this night a lot easier to manage.”

“This seems an awful lot like coercion.”

“You can call it that if you want. I’m sure it will give us something to argue about later.”

I chuckle. “I’d love to spend the weekend with you. We’ll have to stop by my place at some point, though, since this isn’t exactly casual wear.” I motion to my simple black dress.

“Or you could spend the weekend naked.”

“What if I get chilly?”

“You can wear one of my T-shirts.”

“What if someone happened to catch me getting out of your car on Sunday wearing this dress?”

“Hmm. You make a good point.” He taps his lip. “I guess it would be nice to see your place. We could spend a night there if you want. We can make that fantasy you have about me screwing you senseless on your kitchen counter a reality.”

“I don’t have a kitchen-counter fantasy.” Although, it’s not a half-bad idea.

“You do now.” He winks.

Our conversation is put on hold when the car pulls up in front of the hotel. Media already line the entryway, which of course, makes sense. Lincoln’s easy mood quickly fades. “That’s a lot of cameras.”

“You’ll be fine. Just smile and be your charming self.”

“I think I’m only charming when I’m making you come.”

“You’re far more charismatic than you give yourself credit for, although you are particularly enchanting when you’re giving me an orgasm.” I pat his cheek.

The driver opens the door, and Lincoln exits the vehicle first. Cameras flash, and Lincoln looks like he’s debating whether or not he wants to get right back in the car and go home. I slide over, and he offers his hand. He attempts to pull me in when there are photo ops, but I give him a warning smile and tell him I need to take a few pictures. I’m mindful not to fuss over him, considering how the tabloids have been spinning those kinds of images lately.