Yes, it was entirely his fault I couldn't have fun.
How could I think about anything except him when he stretched out on a towel on the beach wearing nothing but a pair of boxers? Honestly, the man had no shame. I mean, sure, other guys had gone naked—including Ollie and Val, two super hotties—but I couldn't have cared less about them. My eyes insisted I had to gawk at Damian. Damn, he had the kind of body any woman would drool over. Not that I drooled. Maybe my mouth had gotten a teeny bit overly salivated, but that did not mean I wanted to get naked with the Dracula knockoff.
Maybe I should've stopped thinking of him that way. Vampires were hot, after all. I'd watched enough movies and read enough romance novels to understand the allure of a man in black. Even Johnny Cash was kind of hot in that color. But Damian Petrescu… He could set the entire state of Oregon on fire just by stripping naked on the beach.
He hadn't gotten naked, though. He'd worn those boxers, which only made me want to go over there, rip those shorts off, and drag him into the woods.
If Damian were a player, like I'd always assumed, I wouldn't want him this much. He just had to go and be a nice guy.Damn him.
Laughter outside my window made me sit up. I'd left the window open to get some fresh air, so I could hear whatever went on out there. My room was on the backside of the guest house, and there wasn't much out there except for the bungalow where Ruth and Sylvester slept. Well, that and Damian's gypsy wagon.
More laughter echoed off the trees.
I slid off the bed and leaned out the window.
Shelby and Heather stood just outside Damian's wagon. Leah was descending the steps. All three of my friends laughed some more, grinning.
Damian followed Leah out of the wagon.
Heather kissed his cheek. Shelby squeezed his biceps and pretended to swoon. At least, I thought she was pretending. Damian kissed Leah's hand, and she giggled. The girls trotted around the guest house, out of sight. What had those three been doing in Damian's wagon?
Damian saw me and waved.
I waved back.
He made a come-hither gesture.
No, I would not go down there. Considering how much I liked the way he looked in that black outfit, I knew I'd only get myself into trouble if I went downstairs and climbed into his wagon. What did he have in there? Chairs? Cushions on the floor? I would've loved to lie on a pile of pillows while Damian—
Oh no, I would not go there, not even in my fantasies.
I shut the window.
For twelve minutes and thirteen seconds, I stopped myself from rushing out there. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, what with my curiosity prodding me to go to him. I didn't rush, though. I walked.
Damian wasn't outside anymore. A sign on the wagon's door said, "Knock, please. The spirits appreciate politeness."
Oh yeah, that sounded like a Damian thing to say.
I knocked on the door.
Damian swung it open a split second after I knocked. His lips curved into an enticing smile. "Glad you came, Heidi. Welcome to my lair."
He stepped back enough to make room for me and offered me his hand.
I accepted it, and he helped me into the wagon, shutting the door.
Whatever I'd expected to find in here, I'd been dead wrong. The space was cozy and homey, but with an elegant gypsy style that made it intriguing. The entire interior was composed of wood in warm, rich shades of honey, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling. A blue velvet curtain cordoned off the front section, the part furthest from the door. The rest of the space featured a padded bench upholstered in shades of gold, blue, and green, as well as a small round table fashioned from honey-colored wood and topped with a gold tablecloth. I saw shelves of knickknacks too, everything from a crystal ball to little figurines of magical creatures. A long window behind the bench let in the natural light, but I saw a lamp and an overhead light fixture too.
The table sat low to the floor, surrounded by pillows.
Earlier, I'd fantasized about Damian and a stack of pillows, but this was nothing like what I'd imagined. These pillows clearly served as seats.
"Sit down," Damian said. "The bench or the pillows, whichever you prefer."
I settled onto the bench, loving the cushy padding. "What's behind the curtain?"
"The Great and Powerful Oz, of course."