“Yes, are you hungry? I made a bunch. I’m taking some to Anthony’s, but there’s plenty for you to enjoy.”
“I’m starving.” Taking a seat at the table, I watch Em finish making dinner. “Make sure Anthony says nothing to Damon. Okay?”
“I didn’t tell him you got the job.” She hands me a bowl of pasta sprinkled with parmesan cheese.
The scent of oregano and Italian spices rise with the steam. “Thanks, Em. It’s great having you home.”
She gives me a wide smile before I dig into the big bowl of happiness.
Fed and satisfied, I move to the living room and sit down on the couch with my copy of Bound. Wondering where Damon is in the book, I send him a text.
I’m trying to catch up to you. What page are you on? How is it a man as busy as you has time to read frivolous materials?
He responds immediately.
So, the beautiful Katarina is chasing me, so to speak. I’m on page one hundred and fifty. I won’t go any further so we can be on the same page for our Wednesday night meeting. Where are we going?
I think Mongolian BBQ. Will that work for you?
Can I call you? I hate texting long messages.
Yes.
Seconds later, my phone rings, and I answer with a slow, soft, “Hello, Damon.”
“Hello, Kat, how was your day?”
“It was good. You know, the same old stuff—school and work.”
“I thought you didn’t have school on Fridays?”
Oh, shit, I almost blew it and try to salvage my mistake. “No school today. Just a bunch of research.” It’s not a lie. I called a lot of companies regarding donations. “What about you?”
“Things are moving fast with Ahz, and the closer we get to the grand opening, the more frantic things become.”
“What about Anthony? Is he helping?”
“His staff is pulling their weight. Em has been helping with marketing on the Anthony Haywood side, but it’s still a lot of balls to juggle. Everything is moving in the right direction.” He stalled for a minute. “Would you like to come to the grand opening?”
I’m floored by his invitation. It’s the biggest thing happening this summer. Would I like to attend? Duh!
“I’d love to come, but I’m sure you have more important people to invite.”
“There is no one I’d want to invite more than you. I’m sure Emma will accompany Anthony, but if she doesn’t, I’ll get her an invitation. Oh, by the way, my mom asked about you and insisted I bring you to Sunday dinner. I told her you work and probably couldn’t come, but I’d be a bad son if I didn’t pass on her message.”
“Your mom invited me to dinner?”
“You impressed her at the fundraiser, and she wants to enjoy your company in a relaxed environment. We try to meet up for a meal once a month, and this Sunday is our day.”
“I’m flattered, but I don’t want to interrupt family time with your mother.”
“Please, come and save me from my mother’s monthly dating inquisition.”
“Are you begging me?” I imagined him in front of me on his knees.
“Will it help?”
“I like being in this position. It makes me feel powerful.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a dominant.”
“I don’t see myself that way, but I’m open to new experiences.”
“Is that right? You know, I’m happy to teach you anything you want to know.”
“Are we still talking about dinner?”
“We are. What else would I be referring to?” His deep, full laugh makes me feel warm from my insides out.
“Pick me up at Java Joes at five.”
“My mom will be ecstatic.”
“What about you?” I’m playing with fire by teasing him. I know it’s not wise, but it sure is fun.
“I’ll rejoice with her. See you Sunday. Dress casually.”
“See you.” I hang up feeling joyous.
For the next fifteen minutes, my thoughts are all on Damon. I close my eyes and envision his physical attributes and imagine his tall, slender body, broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. I can see his dark hair, blue eyes, and his soft, supple lips ... oh, those lips that make me lose all thought. Yep, Damon Noble is trouble—big trouble—for me.
Saturday flies by, but Sunday drags on. I look at the clock for the tenth time that hour and swear it doesn’t move. This time with Damon is all I’ve thought about since Friday night. Though we spoke last night, too, the conversation was short, and I hung up wanting more.
The clock seems to move backward as I busy myself by cleaning the espresso machine and stocking supplies for the next shift. With a damp rag in my hands, I turn around to wipe the counters and find the Viking god leaning against the wall, staring at me. He’s always watching me.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Waiting for you to get off work. Can I get a coffee to take with me?”
“Geez.” I toss the rag into the sink behind me. “You’d think this was a coffee shop,” I say teasingly. “What’s your poison, Mr. Noble?”
“A plain-brewed coffee will be perfect. I’m a simple man.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Chapter Nine
I take advantage of the twenty-minute drive to Brentwood to study Damon’s profile. His hair parts from left to right, leaving the bulk of it sweeping toward me. The blue of his eyes is the most vivid color of blue imaginable—the color of an Alaskan glacier.
His nose is well-proportioned—not too big, but not dainty. There is a slight bump near the bridge, suggesting he’d broken it previously. His chin is strong and covered with a shadow of whiskers darker, redder than the rest of his hair.
“You better stop looking at me like that.” His lips curl into a smile as he delivers his warning.
“Like what? You’re driving. How can you know how I’m looking at you?”
“I can feel your eyes on me and makes me think of doing things to you that friends don’t do to one another.”
I whip around and stare out the windshield.
Damon breaks out into a laugh that causes me to giggle.
“You’re an awful friend. A good friend would never have said anything.”
“A good friend wouldn’t visually strip me while I drive to Brentwood.”
A gasp comes from my mouth. “I wasn’t doing that.” I lifted my chin in defiance. “I only got as far as your lips.”
“I stand corrected. You may resume your inspection.”
“What happened to your nose?”
“What do you mean, what happened to my nose? My nose is perfect.”
“Yes, it is perfect for you, but you’ve broken it before. Remember, I have an older brother, so I recognize the injury. Chris had his nose broken twice. Once skiing, and once in a fistfight. What’s your story?”
“My brother Roman broke my nose when I was thirteen. I borrowed his favorite baseball mitt and lost it at the ball field. My dad had given it to him, so it was special.” He heaves a sigh. “I spent the next four days sitting at the ballpark, asking everyone who showed up if they found a mitt. I’d about given up when a mom and her three kids arrived in a minivan.” He risks a glance in my direction, then turns back to the road. “I almost didn’t ask her but figured it couldn’t hurt. She went around to the back of her van, reached in, and pulled out my brother’s mitt. It was one of the best days of my life. Roman always felt bad for breaking my nose, but it was a good lesson for me. It taught me to never take what’s not mine.”