Lola

I’D BEEN SO consumed by my desire for Grayson when he first opened the door that I’d thrown myself at him immediately, not taking in a single thing about the inside of his house. But now that my whorish body had been satiated, I was finally able to focus on my surroundings.

While I lay on Grayson’s chest, I’d noticed that there weren’t any picture or lamps on his bedside tables. The only thing in the bedroom was the furniture. It was really good quality furniture, but there wasn’t much of it, just the bed, two nightstands, and a chest of drawers. As I walked down the long hall into the living area, I noticed that the inside of the house was a complete contradiction to the outside.

Where the yard gave the place a homey, comfortable feeling, the inside was kind of bleak and emotionless, devoid of any color or personal touches. It looked like he’d just moved in and hadn’t bought much to fill the space.

The bare walls were painted a plain eggshell white, just a shade darker than the crown molding that edged along the ceiling. The dark hardwood floors were unblemished, but there wasn’t so much as an area rug or a runner covering them. A plain brown leather sectional with a matching ottoman sat facing a huge flat-screen TV mounted to the wall. There was a stylish console beneath that held some books. A matching side table sat on the floor on one end of the sectional, but that was it as far as furniture. No pictures along the mantle above the slate fireplace, no photos or art hung on the walls. There wasn’t a single thing to speak to Grayson’s life or childhood, not even a knickknack.

The barren décor didn’t match Grayson’s exuberant personality in the slightest. If someone had asked, I would’ve claimed that a totally different person lived there.

I padded across the bare floors as I continued to wander the expansive house, following the delicious smells to what I hoped was the kitchen. I stepped down two small stairs into what seemed like another place entirely. Unlike the bare space throughout the rest of the house, the kitchen was starkly different. Pale granite lined the countertops, threaded with iridescent grains that glittered beneath the contemporary pendant lights. A large porcelain farmer’s sink sat beneath a window with a stunning view of the trees and mountains in the background. In the window were small clay pots of different sizes, each containing a variety of herbs. He had a small herb garden in his kitchen but not a single personal effect anywhere else? That was bizarre, to say the least. A subway tile backsplash cascaded beneath the dark oak cabinets, a pretty white against the dark of the wood. Top-of-the-line appliances were scattered throughout and the counters were lined with cooking utensils. This room was lived in, no doubt about it.

I was jolted from my musings when Grayson stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he buried his nose in my hair. I was so enamored with the space that I hadn’t heard him come in. I jumped, startled, and he let loose a deep chuckle that vibrated from his chest into my back.

“Sorry.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

I turned in his arms, my own twining around him to return his embrace without my brain giving it much thought. I pushed that realization to the back of my mind. I was too relaxed from sex, too content in just being with him to focus on the scary reality that I was really starting to fall for this guy. That was something I could fixate on and stress about in the privacy of my own home. For now… I was just going to go with the flow. Fighting it was just too damn exhausting.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked, curiosity niggling at me.

“About six years. Why?”

My forehead furrowed in confusion. Six years? That was a long time to live in a house devoid of any personality. “It just… doesn’t really seem like you.”

“How so?” he asked, releasing me and moving to the oven, hitting the Off button before grabbing an oven mitt and pulling the door open. My mouth watered at the sight of him in nothing but a pair of jeans resting low on his trim waist. God, he was sexy.

As he pulled out a cookie sheet containing two foil packets, I was hit with another wave of delicious smells. I moved to his side and peeked over his shoulder as he tore at the tinfoil on one of the packets. Inside was a perfectly cooked pink salmon filet sprinkled with spices and olive oil, plus slices of sautéed squash and zucchini. It looked heavenly, and my mouth started watering for an entirely different reason.

“Lola….”

I pulled my gaze from the food and looked at Grayson to find him smiling at me. “I asked how my house doesn’t seem like me.”

“Oh.” I shook my head and took a step back, thinking how best to answer as he moved around the kitchen, pulling plates from a cabinet and utensils from a drawer. “Well, other than the kitchen it’s kind of… bland.”

“Bland?” he asked, one eyebrow quirking up as he turned from plating the food to look at me.

“Not… bland,” I quickly backtracked. “It’s a beautiful house, really. It’s just… there are no real personal touches anywhere but in here. I guess I just found that kind of surprising. It doesn’t look like you’ve been here for six years. It looks like you just moved in and haven’t gotten around to decorating.”

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding as he handed me our plates and forks before pointing me toward a round, four-seater table nestled in the middle of a large bay window. I set our plates down and took a seat, gazing out into the immaculate backyard.

The curtains and blinds were open to the outside. I could see the backyard butted up to the forest, landscaped just as immaculately as the front. A kidney-shaped pool with an attached Jacuzzi was the main focal point of the space, surrounded on all sides by wicker lounge chairs and patio furniture. A look at the crystal-clear water sent a shiver up my spine. Water and I didn’t get along. A bad experience as a child — one of the very rare memories I had of my father — left me scared of any size body of water.

I turned my attention from the pool to Grayson as he joined me at the table, placing a large bowl of salad in the middle and two glasses of red wine by each plate. I scooped out the lettuce, noticing he’d already coated it in a vinaigrette. Man, he was good. I didn’t even cook this well, much to my mother’s detriment. I was Italian, after all. It was a disappointment she pointed out to me many times in my adult life.

“It might sound trite,” he began, “but when I bought it, I always imagined I’d eventually have a wife who’d put her own touch on the place.”

My heart fluttered while my stomach dropped. For a second, I pictured myself putting my stamp on the whole house and was filled with excitement that quickly turned to dread. I wasn’t ready for anything like that. Not even close. But when I thought about some other, nameless, faceless woman decorating Grayson’s home, making it hers, a bitter taste filled my mouth. I was a mess of conflicting emotions.

“That doesn’t sound trite,” I said quietly, truthfully. Because it didn’t, not at all. If I allowed myself to really think about it, it sounded kind of… amazing.

“Maybe not, but it’s a naive thought,” he responded.

“Why do you say that?” I asked, lifting my fork to my mouth and taking a bite. “Oh God,” I groaned. “This is so good! Did you really make this? Be honest. You got takeout and staged it so you could take credit.”

He smiled and shook his head, his hair tousled from sex. It was a really good look on him. Hell, everything was a good look on him.

“No, I cooked. I love to cook. It’s why the kitchen is the only room in the house with a bit of life to it. When I’m home, I spend most of my time in here.”

“Damn it,” I grumbled around a mouthful of food. “You’re making it really hard not to jump you again.”

He laughed and took a bite, and I watched in fascination as his jaw worked while he chewed. His throat bobbed on a swallow and I was hit with the desire to lean across the table and lick his neck. I had it bad.

“That’s the plan.” He winked. “Seduce you with sex and cooking until you can’t resist me.”

I fake-glowered as I continued shoveling salmon and vegetables into my mouth. The dinner really was delicious.

“So,” he started, pulling me from my food-induced euphoria, “tell me something about you.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of my wine.

“What’s your family like? I know you mentioned having a brother, but besides him cheating on your friend, you haven’t said much else. Do you two get along?”

“Yeah. In spite of everything, we actually do.”

He set his fork down, resting his elbows on the table as he drank some of his wine. “You sound surprised.”

“Yeah, well, it was rocky for a long time. After he cheated on Sophia, I hated him for hurting her, for being like our father, but after they broke up, I saw how torn up he was over it. He tried to get her back for a while, but she wasn’t having it. When I saw how repentant he was, I realized he wasn’t actually a carbon copy of our dad. That bastard never felt bad for hurting my mom… or anyone else. Dominic did.”

He studied me for a few moments. “You don’t have a good relationship with your father.” It wasn’t a question. My stomach sank as my mind replayed the conversation I’d had with him on the phone just a few short hours before.

“It’s… complicated,” I answered. “And not something I really like to talk about.”

“Okay.” He nodded, thankfully letting the subject drop. “And what about your mom? Are you two close?”

With the topic of my father on the back burner, and the mention of my mom, the tension swirling in my gut began to loosen and I smiled. “Yeah. We’re close, more so now that I’m older. I kind of drove her crazy when I was a teenager.”

Grayson’s smile sent off an explosion of butterflies in my belly. “I can imagine.”

“She put me in Catholic school, hoping it would help to ground me,” I laughed. “Poor Mom. I think I’m responsible for most of her gray hair. Hers and all the sisters at the school. When I graduated, I think they all cried tears of joy that they wouldn’t have to deal with me any longer.”

His jade eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m sure you weren’t that bad.”

“Oh, but I was!” I giggled. I took another sip of wine and set the glass down to continue my story. “One of the sisters actually left her order after one of my little pranks during the homecoming dance.”

Grayson’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “I didn’t think private schools had dances and stuff like that.”

“I didn’t go to an all-girls school. I think my Mom knew if she did that, I would’ve been so much worse.”

“So what did you do?” he asked, his tone full of curiosity.

“I’d just watched Carrie for the first time. I was struck with inspiration at the whole pig’s blood scene.” He choked on his food as I carried on. “In my defense, I didn’t use actual blood. It was corn syrup. And the girl who’d been crowned Homecoming Queen was a real bitch.”

His laughter was deep and gravelly, coming straight from his belly. I watched in awe as his head fell back, a smile splitting his handsome face. I loved how I was able to make him laugh wholeheartedly like that. I knew I was screwed when all I could think was that I wanted to be the cause of more of those laughs.

Grayson Lockhart was illegally gorgeous, an amazing cook, fan-freaking-tastic in bed, and had a beautiful laugh.

And he liked me. He wanted to know me.

As his laughter began to taper off into a chuckle and his green eyes pinned me in place, I came to a frightening realization.

It wasn’t just sex. I wanted to know him too.

Shit.

Shithelldamnfuck.

I lowered my gaze back to my plate and started eating with gusto, trying to ignore the way my heart pounded and the blood rushed in my ears.

“Stay with me,” he said without a hint of amusement, pulling my focus back to him. The dancing in his eyes was gone as he regarded me intently.

“What?” That one word came out breathless.

“Tonight. I want you to stay with me tonight.”

The wise decision would have been to say no, to go home to my own apartment and work to reconstruct my walls. But I’d never been known for making wise decisions. That was why I found myself nodding in acceptance. I wanted to stay with him.

For as long as I could.

And that was the problem.