Page 34 of Just The Way You Aren't

Passion rises within me as I continue. “The other day, I found one of my clients wandering in the street because it’s just him and his wife at home and she was making him lunch. There isn’t money for in-home care. I know it’s hard to imagine that from where you’re sitting.” Soft murmurs travel the moneyed crowd. “I know it’s hard to imagine that there aren’t resources, programs, or some kind of stopgaps in our state to stop these people from falling through the cracks. But there aren’t. I go to work every day with the goal of helping people stay in their homes as long as possible, and to maintain as much of their independence as they can. Aging is not always an easy process, but it can be done with dignity. My clients need everything from social contact to cleaningservices to grocery and meal delivery. Most have just enough money to get by, but it’s still considered too much to qualify for state programs. And they don’t want to leave their homes. Who wants to leave their home just because they get old and gray? Why should our society make them? It’s not right, or fair, and Silver Hearts is trying to do something about it every day. These are people every bit as deserving of living out their golden years in a familiar setting as anyone in this room. They’re good, solid people who just need help. We help them. That’s what Silver Hearts is, and it’s what we do.”

The organizer discreetly taps his watch and I wince. “Sorry, I think I’ve gone over my time. I’m sure you can tell I think finding a cure for Alzheimer’s is a very worthy cause. I hope this fundraiser is successful in helping the people I’ve told you about tonight, and the countless others like them. Thank you.”

Damien starts to escort me away from the podium when Mrs. Hollingsworth begins to clap. Her clapping is soon followed by more, and soon the whole room is giving me a prolonged round of enthusiastic applause.

“Hear, hear!” Mrs. Hollingsworth shouts over the din. She stands, leaning on her cane, and the ballroom settles into a quiet attentiveness. “I think we forget how easy it is to throw money at diseases, but we tend to forget about the people living with them. That’s what I’ve always liked about the Alzheimer’s Search for the Cure organization. They let you adopt a senior. I hope, tonight, many seniors will find their sponsors. But I’d also like to hear more about Silver Hearts and that fundraiser Mr. Langley is helping you with.”

Oh God. I hadn’t mentioned the fundraiser at all! “Um, yes, about that…”

“It will be happening in a month,” Damien says, smoothlystepping in for me. “Please feel free to contact me or Silver Hearts if you’re interested in joining us for the evening.”

“I most certainly will,” Mrs. Hollingsworth responds.

I smile, then nearly trip over the microphone cord.

Damien catches me in the most gallant way possible. It’s as though it happened on purpose, like he’s dipping me during a dance. The crowd chuckles a bit and I can see his anger at their reaction start to cloud his face. I laugh loudly, which brings him back to me.

“As you can see, it won’t be a boring evening!” I joke, to the crowd’s delight.

“Kiss her!” someone calls from the back.

This makes the room burst into laughter. “Milton, don’t be crass,” I hear someone else hiss.

I look up at Damien. He looks at me, and there’s nothing funny in the heat that sears me from his gaze.

Then his mouth swoops down and his lips capture mine. The instant our mouths connect it’s electric. I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me at all, but now that he has I don’t want him to stop.

Distantly, I hear the crowd laughing and starting to clap.

“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good, but we do have some seniors to get sponsored,” the silver-haired organizer says, chuckling along with everyone else in the room. I didn’t even notice him approach.

With a low growl, Damien draws away from me, but he doesn’t move his hand from my waist. I thought I was dizzy earlier in the night, but that unsteady feeling can’t compete with the way my head spins now, just from our brief kiss. Damien keeps an arm around me as we move away from the main area.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we descend the stairs of the stage.

“I think we’ve made enough of an appearance here,” he says gruffly. He escorts me as quickly as my wobbly ankles will carry me through the crowd. I can feel his urgency as demanding as my own, but we don’t make it far before we’re interrupted by guests who want to ask about my speech, our organization and charity, and, to my ear-burning embarrassment, our kiss.

Damien answers their questions smoothly but blows past curiosities about our relationship. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he says after at least ten minutes of pestering, “we must go.”

“But the evening has only just started,” one woman with a throat suffocated in jewels says.

“Let me buy you both a drink,” her husband offers.

Damien holds me a little tighter as if all these requests for our time are threats of taking me away from him. I can’t help myself as I gaze up at him. The romantic lighting of the ballroom casts his features into shadow, accentuating the delicious sharp line of his jaw and the muscle pulsing there.

“Another time,” Damien says.

People are still calling for us as he leads me out to the front of the building and asks the valet for his car.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t stay?” I glance back the way we came, but no one’s coming to get us.

As the car pulls up, Damien reaches for the passenger door handle, then stops. “What’s the saying? Always leave them wanting more. You did that. But I don’t feel like sharing you right now.”

With a squeak of surprise, I find myself pressed up against the car with him plastered against me, his lips fusing to mine.If I thought the first kiss was great, this one is spectacular. Damien Langley is hard and hungry. For me.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only an inch or two. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my palms. I want to say something witty and sexy, but I can’t find the words. Maybe on account of the fact that my mouth is on fire from his kiss. All I know is I want more of him.

“Get in,” he commands me. “We’re going to my place.”

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