When Mark said “fun,” a dozen scenarios ran through Allie’s head—including one where they snuggled under bolts and bolts of minkie. If he’d even suggested getting all tangled up, she would have thrown herself at his mercy. Maybe … she had to keep her head on her shoulders or she’d end up unraveling over this guy.

But that kiss!

That kiss that left her lips tingling and her lower belly warm. She shouldn’t have given in to the temptation, should have remembered her place in this world was not with a man like Mark. But she had no defense against his pull and when their lips met, it was like she’d woken up from a sleeping spell. Who knew there were kisses like that in the world? Certainly not Allie. She was used to kisses that demanded something from her, not ones that lifted her up to her tippy-toes as if she’d been filled with helium.

Every kiss from this moment on would pale in comparison.

And that’s why she should have never let the kiss happen. How would she ever find a man who compared to Mark Dubois? He’d stormed her hotel room to rescue her. He’d taken her to a castle the night. And he’d braved fabric shopping—an event men feared beyond all others. She was doomed to a life of settling for a shadow of the man who made her heart pound and her good sense disappear.

Perhaps that’s why she gladly climbed to the top of rickety scaffolding outside a run-down building on the outskirts of Atlanta.

“Brushes up,” called Mark from the sidewalk below, where several reporters and photographers gathered round him.

Allie lifted her brush right along with the set of fourteen-year-old twins beside her—one girl, Olivia, and one boy, Owen. Even though they were skinny little teens, there wasn’t much room up here. She forced herself to not look straight down. She already knew the sidewalk was hard—no need to remind herself of that fact when she was eight feet above it.

Mark stared up at her with this hunger that sent her insides swooping. She grabbed the metal bar for balance.

“Aaaaaand, go!”

She and the twins turned and attacked the wall with their wide brushes while a group of about ten went to town below them. The graffiti was kind of pretty in its own way, very colorful and street artistry. She would have voted to leave the artistic expression if there weren’t several four-letter words involved.

Mark spoke to the reporters. She could hear his deep laugh as he entertained them with stories of Teens on Target’s past projects, the good they were doing for the city in general, and the hope they instilled in the future. She paused to watch and listen, her brush on the wall and her attention on the man who was quickly becoming a fascination for her.

“How’d taggers even get this high?” Allie asked Olivia.

“They repel off the roof,” said the girl. She turned to see what Allie was staring at and let out a gusty sigh. “He’s so fun to look at.”

Allie chuckled. “And you’re how old?”

“Old enough to see his movies,” replied Olivia, her head swiveling around to focus on her work.

“But not old enough to date him,” threw in Owen.

Allie laughed. “So you’re a fan of Slade McCoy, huh?” She remembered having quite the crush on Jess from Gilmore Girls when she was that age. Ah, the leather jacket and the hair!

“She has three posters of him without his shirt on,” snarked Owen with a smirk.

“Whatever. Only one of them is shirtless, and shut up, because he’s coming up here.” Olivia focused on the wall, working to fill in every inch of her assigned area.

Allie stifled her laughter. “Play it cool,” she admonished the two of them.

Mark’s head appeared, followed by those broad shoulders, his chiseled chest … Allie snapped her attention back to the wall, rivaling her younger counterpart in concentration.

“How’s the high crew?” he asked.

“Great,” squeaked Allie and Olivia at the same time. Owen rolled his eyes. The kid had twice as much done as Allie and his sister, but then he hadn’t been taking in the view.

Mark paused with his hands on his hips, checking over their work. The scaffolding was already crowded and Mark took up so much room that Allie scooted closer to the wall.

“Looks good, guys.”

“Quit your yacking, Mark, and get to work.” The organizer tossed a paintbrush up, and Mark snatched it out of the air.

“Yes, sir.” Mark made an I’m-in-trouble-now face at Olivia.

Allie scooted over to make room for him. He placed his hand on her hip and reached around to dip his brush in the paint bucket. She let out a squeak and Mark gave her a little squeeze.

“Real cool,” whispered Olivia, mocking her. She gave Allie a you’re hopeless eye roll.

Yeah—pretty much.

Mark straightened up at the same time Allie dropped her arm, and she managed to paint his elbow. She laughed at his astonished face. “Sorry.”

Mark flicked his brush at her, splattering her shirt.

“Hey!”

“Oops,” he said, with an innocent lift of his shoulders.

Allie lifted an eyebrow in challenge and her gaze dropped to his belly. She swiped at him. Mark spun out of the way and in a blur of ninja-like moves knocked her brush to the planks and left a brown stripe down her arm and across her chin. Allie could hardly believe what had just happened.

Mark folded his arms, making his muscles look all that much bigger. “Not bad.”

Allie sputtered, “How’d you do that?”

“Slade McCoy.” He pointed to his chest. “Remember?”

Just to his side, Olivia brandished her paintbrush and a wicked gleam in her eye.

Allie bit back her smile. “I surrender.” She put up her hands just as Olivia made a large Z on Mark’s back.

Whipping around, he painted her cheeks and one arm while she giggled uncontrollably—pleased as punch to have Mark’s attention. He spun and got Allie’s hip too.

“What was that for?” Allie asked in mock astonishment.

“Conspiring against me.”

Still laughing, Olivia put out her fist. “Totally worth it.”

Allie fist-bumped her. “Agreed.”

Mark lifted the paint can and one half of his mouth in a crooked grin that had Allie gripping Olivia’s arm.

“Truce. Truce.” Olivia caved on the spot.

Mark’s focus turned to Allie.

“Me too.” She laughed.

He set the paint can down with a leery look. “I’m not quite sure I trust you two.”

They giggled conspiratorially but didn’t comment.

“Hey up there,” called a photographer. “Smile!”

They repositioned themselves for the photograph and Mark’s arm draped across Allie’s shoulder. She leaned into him, appreciating his solidness and sexiness and lighthearted fun. She wouldn’t think an A-list actor would spend his Saturday afternoon painting over graffiti with a bunch of teenagers, and yet here he was, all strong and happy and like a dream.

The photographer snapped the picture and waved to say he was done.

Allie tipped her head up to look at Mark. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m shorter in person?”

She put her hand on his chest. “If anything, you’re a bigger man, Mark.”

Mark brushed his fingers across her cheek.

“If you don’t get to work, I’m going to have to separate you two,” yelled the organizer. His tone was half-serious, half-joking, but Allie suspected he would follow through with the threat.

Mark squeezed her side. “I guess we’d better paint.”

“So long as you paint the brick and not me.” Allie rubbed her semi-wet elbow into Mark’s side.

He gave her a stern look. “Don’t start.”

Laughing, she wiggled her brush towards him and then went back to painting the brownstone building. Mark took some time to talk to Olivia and Owen. He asked about school and after-school activities and their family.

Allie was glad for a moment with her thoughts. Mark had indeed turned out to be different than she’d thought, which meant he wasn’t as different from her as she’d first believed. The heady feelings and bouts of giggling he induced to the side, he had a way of looking at the best in people, herself included. She liked that about him, liked the way he made her feel like she was special.

She’d never been special to someone before. In a way, that was comforting, because if she been a special someone and the relationship didn’t work out, she’d be broken. She just knew that when she gave her heart away, it would have to be to a man who would guard it as closely as she had. Even with Reed, she’d never quite trusted him and kept a part of herself back.

Mark was slowly pulling at her heart, and if she wasn’t careful, he’d have her undone for sure.