She sat between Sebastian and his cousin, Morgana. His gorgeous cousin Morgana, Mel had noted.

She’d heard the rumors about Morgana Donovan Kirkland. The rumors that whispered she was a witch. Mel had found them laughable—and only found them more so now. Morgana was anything but a cackling crone ready to jump on board a broomstick.

Still, she imagined the rumors added to the business Morgana pulled in at her shop.

On the other side of Morgana was her husband, Nash. Mel knew he was a successful and highly respected screenwriter, one who specialized in horror scripts. His work had certainly scared a few muffled screams from Mel—and made her laugh at herself.

Nash Kirkland didn’t seem the Hollywood type to her. He struck her as open and easygoing—and very much in love with his wife.

They held hands during the movies. But not with the sloppy sort of mush that would have made Mel uncomfortable. Instead, there was a quiet, steady bond of affection in the gesture that she envied.

On the other side of Sebastian was Anastasia. Mel wondered why a woman as hauntingly lovely as Ana didn’t have a date. Then she reminded herself that such a thought was sexist and stupid. Not every woman—herself included—found it necessary to go everywhere hanging on to the arm of a man.

Mel dug into her popcorn and settled into the movie.

“You going to eat all that?”

“Hmm?” Distracted, she turned her head. Then jerked it back quickly. She’d practically been lip-to-lip with Sebastian. “What?”

“You going to share, or what?”

She stared a moment. Wasn’t it odd how his eyes seemed to glow in the dark? When he tapped a finger on the box of popcorn in her lap, she blinked.

“Oh, yeah. Help yourself.”

He did, enjoying her reaction to him every bit as much as the buttery popcorn.

She smelled … fresh. Sebastian kept part of his mind on the twists and turns of the plot and let the rest wander at will. He found it pleasant to be able to scent her soap-and-water skin over the aromas of the theater. If he let himself, he could hear her pulse beating. Steady, very steady, and strong—and then a quick jerk and flutter when the action heated up on-screen.

What would her pulse do if he touched her now? If he were to shift his body and take that wide, unpainted mouth with his own?

He thought he knew. He thought he could wait and see.

But he couldn’t quite resist a gentle poke into her own thoughts.