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While Drake preened, I indulged in the finest chocolate chip cookie I had ever tasted. I shoved a big bite of it in my mouth and closed my eyes to let the chocolate soothe my soul. Sadly, I got caught in the act.
“Do you need a moment there?” Drake’s sexy voice interrupted my bliss.
“Yes,” I mumbled, with my mouth full and eyes still shut.
“Too bad, I’m starving.”
I opened my eyes to find my shirtless boss joining me on the blanket. I dropped the remainder of the cookie and swallowed slowly while gaping at Drake’s smooth, well-defined chest. It’s not like I hadn’t seen the man’s chest before. For crying out loud, I’d buttoned up his shirt and tied his tie a hundred times. But in this ridiculously romantic room, in front of a blazing fire, it felt different. I was no longer his assistant; I was the woman who loved him.
I took a deep breath in and tried to channel Izzy. That didn’t help, as I got a whiff of his clean shower scent, which did all sorts of things to every one of my glands. I forced myself to imagine Izzy covering my eyes and telling me to take shallow breaths while she whisked me away. That made me smile. Oddly, Drake smiled back. Like a full-on see-my-beautiful-pearly-whites smile. I’d never seen it before.
“Um, George brought grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. If you don’t like it, I can see if we can order something else, because I call dibs on the cookies and milk.” I gave him a crooked grin.
“You’re adorable, you know that, right?”
Unfortunately, I did. I grimaced.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I sighed.
He arched his left brow so debonairly, the butterflies in my stomach started giving each other lap dances. “You are the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks,” I groaned.
“Charlotte, that’s a compliment. It’s why I trust you. So, tell me what I did wrong.”
I grabbed another cookie and clutched it like a security blanket, feeling so exposed. “I’m almost thirty years old—I don’t want to be thought of as adorable.”
“How do you want to be thought of?”
“Not as adorable.” I took a bite of cookie.
He absentmindedly picked up a sandwich and stared down at it for an unnaturally long time before he whispered, “You’re beautiful, Charlotte.”
“Now who’s lying?”
He raised his head, his eyes grabbing me like a thief in the night. “Not me.”
“You don’t have to say that.” I was getting all sorts of hot and flustered. “I’ve seen all your girlfriends.”
“Then you, better than anyone, should know I speak the truth.”
I rolled my eyes. “Eat your food. I think you’re having a hypoglycemic episode.”
“My blood sugar is fine.”
“Perhaps you’re having an aneurysm,” I quipped.
“Why don’t you believe me?” Frustration seeped through his words.
I didn’t need any more embarrassing moments tonight where he told me I was beautiful on the inside or something akin to that, so I responded, “Eat. I know you’re starving.”
He stared at the spread I had set out on the fancy floral-patterned plates and bowls George had provided. The tomato soup was hot enough that steam was rolling off it.
“Do you want something else?” I asked.
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve had grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. It was my dad’s favorite,” he said offhandedly.
“Really?”
Drake nodded.
“Tell me about him.” I was so curious about the man he never spoke of and had refused to allow to be a part of Jameson’s funeral. Not even I had been allowed to go.
“He is stubborn and impossible,” Drake said with a sad smile.
“So that’s where you get it from,” I teased.
Drake’s head drifted up, and again he hit me with a full-blown smile. It made all the lap-dancing butterflies take a serious tumble, so much so that I grabbed my midsection.
“You should smile more,” I said, my voice sounding very breathy, as it seemed the air had been sucked out of the room.
“And have people get the wrong impression of me? I can’t do that.”
“They already do. You’re not Kaden Chandler, aloof rogue and international spy.” It was the role he was most famous for. He had already done three movies under that franchise, with at least three more to go.
“I am a rogue,” he lamented.
“You play a good one, I’ll give you that. But deep down you know that’s not who you are. You are the man who remembers my birthday and checks to make sure I arrive home safely every night. Your Christmas bonuses are always amazing.” I giggled. “And you always let me have your pizza crust. I mean, that practically makes you a saint.”
He scooted closer, the fire reflecting in his sea-green eyes. “Please stop humanizing me.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me want to show you how beautiful I think you are.”
My heart pounded so hard, surely he could hear it. My head pounded as well, with Izzy’s voice screaming, “Danger, Will Robinson! Abort! I repeat, abort!” But she wasn’t here and didn’t see the way he was looking at me, as if I were his everything. In his eyes, I could see that I was beautiful. I was so mesmerized by what I saw, Izzy’s voice faded, and my heart overruled my head.
