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“Wasn’t me.” Eros breaks away and keeps working to organize the kitchen. It’s such a simple, homey thing for a god to do that it makes me chuckle to myself. “It could be Karma or Fortuna at work,” he suggests. “But I doubt there’s any divineintervention. You’re good at what you do, and it’s finally paying off.”
I bite my lip, thinking it over. “I suppose you’re right. Why would another god be interested in me?”
Eros’s body tenses. It’s so subtle that I might have missed it, yet he’s right, I pay attention to my surroundings, and he’s the most interesting thing to pay attention to.
“What?” I prompt, and when he doesn’t immediately answer, I press on. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you more about that godly visit you had in my hotel room. Will you tell me what that was about?”
“Along with being a messenger, Hermes is a trickster god.” Eros waves me off. “He likes to mess with me, so don’t listen to him if he bothers us again.”
“But it seems like he’s going to do something to you or me in a week if you fail at something. Is this about me accepting your job offer?”
“It’ll be okay. He won’t hurt you,” Eros says with conviction.
I let it slide, because he would know better than I would what the gods would do.
12
TEMPTATIONS
For the rest of the afternoon, I sort through my photos from Vivian and Thomas’s engagement shoot. I pick out the best shots and apply some light touch-ups, then I watermark them and send the file off to the couple for their approval. I’d be happier with the shoot if it weren’t for the couple’s dubious loyalty.
I’m just coming out of my editing haze when I hear Carl returning home, his keys clattering into the tray by the front door.
I stretch out my tense muscles and glance over to my bed to see Eros reading one of my steamy romance books. Of course he’s shirtless and his jeans are slung low on his hips. I satisfy my temptation to grab my camera and catch another few shots of his beauty. A love god relaxing on a woman’s bed, reading a bodice ripper, is great subject matter.
“Enjoying yourself?” I ask.
“Quite.” Eros grins wickedly as he rolls onto his side to stare at me. “These books are moredetailedthan I remember.”
“Well, I have to get my romance somewhere.” I quirk my lips into a goofy smile.
“There are more hands-on ways.” Eros waggles his eyebrows.
I huff at his joke. “Well, that’s the idea behind making Carl jealous over me, isn’t it?”
From the kitchen, I hear Carl shout, “Good God! Did you buy the entire grocery store?”
Eros jumps up and heads out of my bedroom door like he’s on a mission. I hurry after him, curious about what he’s going to do.
I’m about to reach my bedroom door when my clothes magically change. My standard, boring T-shirt switches to a fitted tee with a V neckline that highlights my cleavage, and my loose, comfortable jeans are now tight and hugging all my curves.
Oh well, I suppose Eros has a point. How is Carl going to see me in a new way if I don’t present myself in a new way? It’s just ever since that amazing kiss five years ago and his subsequent rejection, I have downplayed my sexuality even more than usual.
Looking like a GQ cover model, Eros saunters into the kitchen wearing a tight shirt that hugs his thick arms. Since I’m curious what both of them might say without me in the room, I hover just out of sight in the hall.
“I was thinking I could make dinner for all of us tonight,” Eros says in a jovial tone.
Carl doesn’t answer right away. Without looking, I can almost see him in my mind’s eye, studying Eros and trying to figure him out.
“Sure, what were you thinking of making?” Carl asks, his voice superficially light. “You must have bought enough food to feed a small country.”
“Yeah, well,” Eros says with a touch of embarrassment, “I just want to make Dee happy, and as an extension, you too.”
“Thanks, man,” Carl says. “But you don’t have to try so hard.”
“With you?” There’s a hint of protectiveness in his voice when Eros asks, “Or with Dee?”
I hold my breath. I wonder if Carl sees me as some push over.
