He was truly lost in a daydream.
He was well past the age of youthful recklessness, yet his romantic experience was probably less than that of an eighteen-year-old. His emotions were in flux; in just a few short hours, he had envisioned their entire life together, down to the smallest detail. His imagination had run so wild that even he found it absurd.
He didn't share his thoughts with Celia, simply saying gently, "Our appointment is soon. Shall we go in?"
Celia pulled two face masks from her purse and handed one to him. "Put this on."
Silas Norwood put on his mask, slid his arm around her waist, and headed toward the VIP room.
