Oh shit. Sally swallowed and held his steady gaze. She’d been right. He’d rolled out of bed, tossed a T-shirt and jeans on and drove all the way into town—just to ask her if she’d been serious. “You mean the thing… about the p-proposition?”
He kept his eyes to hers as he reached out and bolted the door. “Yeah. The proposition.”
She darted a glance at the door. It wasn’t fear that caused her heart to feel like a thundering herd of wild horses. “What are you doing?” His eyes held hers as he closed the gap between them.
“Practicing. Auditioning.” He cupped her face with his hands. “Whatever you want to call it. Sorry, my hands are still cold.”