Sophia
Damien’s Range Rover is in the driveway when I pull in. I step out of mine and ring the doorbell. Julian throws open the door and smiles at me. “Come on in.”
I take a step inside. He wraps his hands around my neck, tugging me closer and kissing me, his lips warm against mine. “I'm glad you could make it.”
“Me too.” I hand him a grocery bag. “I didn’t know what kind of dessert you like, so I brought three kinds of ice cream.”
He winks at me. “You already know what kind of dessert I like, Sophia.”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. “Stop that,” I say severely. “You made me come so many times last night that I cannot possibly have sex today.”
He laughs out loud. “Is that so? That sounds like a challenge, baby, and I’m very competitive.”
Something's different in the foyer. I look around until I figure out what it is. The chandelier had been dull and dusty the last time I was here, but it's gleaming today, throwing bright, sparkling light around the space.
“This looks really nice.”
“Thank you. Damien’s in the kitchen. I left him in charge of the spinach.”
“Can he cook?” I ask curiously as I follow him.
“I certainly can,” Damien responds from the stove. “Better than Julian, I might add.” He flashes me a grin. “Hello, Sophia.”
“Talk is cheap,” Julian responds. “Put up or shut up.”
I laugh and go over to give Damien a hug. Purely because I’m being friendly. Not because I want to feel him up. No, not at all. Today, he's wearing a navy-blue shirt with small white anchors printed on the fabric and gray shorts. His hair is damp, looking like he just got out of the shower.
My mouth waters at the idea of showering with the two men.
Sheesh. Down, girl. Eat first before you jump them.
“You look very nautical,” I tell Damien. “Should I call you Captain for the rest of the evening?”
His eyes spark to life. “I like the sound of that.” His gaze runs over me. “And you look like a strawberry, pretty and pink and luscious.”
He called me luscious. Once again, I feel myself blushing. I stopped at home on the way here and changed out of my work clothes. I'm wearing a pale pink sleeveless cotton sundress with a fitted bodice and a gently flaring skirt. “Is that a compliment?” I ask, resorting to pertness to cover my pleasure.
“I want to hoist you on the table, drag your ass to the edge, spread your legs wide, and devour you,” Damien replies. “So, yes. It’s definitely a compliment.”
My entire body comes to life. Unfortunately, that includes my stomach, which chooses that moment to rumble. Julian, who’s been watching our exchange with a predatory look on his face, jumps into host mode. “Sophia, what can I get you to drink?”
“Whatever you’re drinking.” I don’t like to drink and drive, and I should stick with water, but who am I kidding? I want to spend the night.
Julian holds up his bottle of beer. “It’s an IPA.”
“That’ll work.”
I look around as Julian gets me a beer. The kitchen looks different from the last time I was here. The space feels brighter somehow. Less sterile, more lived-in. Pale pink calla lilies overflow from a cut-glass vase. The windows above the sink are thrown open, and the aroma of cooking fills the air. Whatever Julian’s making, it smells delicious.
I look up. “Ah, you changed the light fixture.”
“Good eye,” he replies, handing me a bottle of beer. “Yeah, your brother suggested it. I stopped at the hardware store on my way back from your office. I was a little concerned that the wiring would be a mess, but it wasn't too bad. Do you want a glass for that?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“There is a formal dining room,” he continues. “But it hasn’t been used in years. I figured we’d eat here.”
The round wooden table is covered with a white tablecloth, a trio of brass candlesticks in the center. Julian pulls out a chair for me. “Sit,” he invites, setting a plate of cheese and crackers in front of me. “I’m just finishing up. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”