My Secret Fantasies
He was so thoughtful. Was it any wonder I was lusting over a guy like him? If only I had a clue what to do with all that steam rushing through me.
“Actually...” I lowered myself back into the love seat, still clutching my computer to my chest. As if Damien might somehow see the screen, even though the laptop was turned off. Or as if he might notice those old love handles still spilling over the waistband of my jeans. “There are leftovers in your fridge if you want them. I saw a flyer for the Greek place in your phone book when I was trying to think about what to serve the Whitemans—”
“Crap. They needed dinner, didn’t they?” He straightened, as if he was going to start prepping food right now.
At almost 9:00 p.m.
“I called Athena’s and put a catered dinner for the Whitemans on your account. I hope that’s okay, but Giorgos was totally cool and agreed with me that you’d probably want to feed your guests.” I’d had fun chatting up the older guy who ran the restaurant, a man who seemed to know Damien well enough. And I still loved to discuss food even if I couldn’t eat to my heart’s content anymore. “He said he’d do smaller portions of several things so the Whitemans would definitely find something they liked. And since I was starving at the time, I had him send the stuff for gyros to your house, too.”
“That’s...” Damien glanced my way, his hazel eyes lingering “...really incredible of you.”
Heat stirred inside me at that long look of his. Was it just because I was still seeing him through Shaelynn’s eyes? Or was Damien Fraser seriously checking me out in real life? Whatever was happening between us was giving me major heart palpitations. I felt breathless. Confused.
That stuff simply did not happen to me. For years, I’d figured that incident with Rick had killed my libido for good. But I was honest-to-God turned on right now. Still, no matter how cool that was, I had to focus on my real reason for being here.
“If you sold the farm stand to me, I’d be around all the time,” I reminded him. “I could help out with stuff like that. Send lunch and breakfast to your guests from the tearoom.”
“And that’s your motive for sticking around?” His eyebrows lowered over narrowed eyes. A blast of cold replaced the heat I’d been feeling a second ago.
“Well...kinda?” I shrugged. Did he think I’d just muck horse stalls and wash his guests’ sheets out of the goodness of my heart? I mean, sure, I was a nice person and all, and I was crushing on the man big time. But I wouldn’t have inserted myself into his life as his personal helper just for kicks. “That and the fact that I have no plan B for where to go next.”
He frowned. “That’s really why you helped out today? Hoping I’d sell you the farm stand?”
“Is that so hard to believe? Damien, that place is perfect for the business I want to build. And I really like it here.” I’d been able to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the great room before the sun set, and take in the views of the olive trees. The horse pastures. It was very pastoral and peaceful, and I needed a lot more of that in my life. “It’s beautiful.”
“I thought maybe...” He reached toward my laptop and I shrank back. “Can I take that for you? You look ready to run any second.”
“Oh.” I loosened my hold. “I’ll just...set it here.” I put it on a big ottoman I’d used like a coffee table when I was writing.
And I made sure it stayed closed. Who knew what else Shaelynn and the newly named “D” had been up to since I’d left them?
My cheeks and neck warmed as I met Damien’s gaze.
“You were saying?”
Elbows on his knees, he threaded his fingers together.
“I was just going to say that I thought maybe the only reason you stuck around—the only reason you’d come here in the first place—was to get to my father the producer.”
“Excuse me?” Had I checked out on part of this conversation while drooling over those massive hands of his? Even his forearms had muscle. I could see the shift of sinew where he’d shoved up his shirtsleeves.
“My dad is Thomas Fraser—”
“No way!” I blinked. Twice. Thomas Fraser was a huge force to be reckoned with in Hollywood. He was a legend for more than just movies. He’d acted in a few pictures once upon a time before going on to direct, produce and open a hugely successful independent film company. “You have to be kidding me.”
“No. I wish I was.”
“I would have never taken you for a Hollywood son.” I couldn’t begin to picture this serious, intense man in the superficial world that I’d operated in for the past six years. “What was that life even like?”