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“It looks amazing,” I say honestly, taking in the spread. Pasta, salad, freshly baked bread rolls… I thought I was wound so tight, I couldn’t eat a thing, but now I find I’m ready for a meal.
I tear into a dinner roll, as Caleb pours us wine. The cool evening breeze drifts around us, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore plays a soothing soundtrack.
Maybe it’s the setting, or the carbs, but I finally relax.
Tonight, nothing needs to matter except the two of us. Who knows when I’ll have a chance to enjoy a date like this again. So, I let my nerves and anxiety fade away. Caleb seems more at ease, too.
He tells me more about his family, about the Hamptons, about how he used to spend his summers. He tells me that his father was always wrapped up in growing the business, and his mother was a bit of a social butterfly, so he spent most of his time with nannies, and at boarding school in Vermont.
“And going wild on vacation?” I ask, with a meaningful look. “I’ve seen the headlines.”
Caleb gives a bashful smile. “My wayward youth,” he says.
“So where does the Cross family come in?” I ask. We’re leaned in toward one another, legs tangled under the table. “You were close?”
“They were like family, yes. Charles Cross was my father’s best friend.”
“And Olivia?” I ask carefully.
“We grew up together.” Caleb takes a casual sip of wine. “She inherited half the business when they passed, but she’s the social butterfly, so she usually handles our event schedule, the charity appearances. She loves all that.”
I eye him. There has to be more behind this story. If, like Olivia says, he goes after every woman… Why hasn’t he gone after her. “She’s very beautiful.”
“She is.” Understanding must dawn at that moment, because he says, “We dated, briefly. Very briefly, years ago. But that was just two kids, fooling around. It wasn’t serious,” he reassures me. “Since then, we may have grown apart, but... She’s like family. I’ll always care for her.”
I nod slowly. For the first time, I wonder how Caleb would react if he knew the truth. The real reason I came to work for him.
He misreads my silence. “Jealous?” he teases, and I shake my head.
“No.”
Guilty.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You should know, I’m not the kind of guy to keep things hidden,” he says, tracing a circle on my palm. “There’s nobody else, not right now. Only you.”
I exhale in a shiver as he traces higher, up the inside of my wrist, and along my bare arm, all the way to my collarbone. His touch is like fire, igniting something deep inside me.
Desire.
“Are you ready for dessert?” he asks, eyes dark on mine.
I know, he’s not talking about dinner anymore.
“Yes.” I whisper. “Please.”
He smiles, but this time, there’s an edge to it. A hunger I recognize. I feel it coiling inside me, too. Building, as he takes me by the hand and leads me back inside.
I follow him wordlessly through the house, and up the staircase. Anticipation builds, buzzing in my veins, as he leads me to his bedroom.
Plush rugs. Sleek furniture. Dark ocean views. I barely register a thing I’m so focused on him—and the epic king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
Caleb pulls me to him. He kisses me slowly, thoroughly, savoring my mouth until I’m weak and giddy in his arms.
“Do you trust me?”
I look up at him, at the promise of pleasure glittering in his eyes.
I slowly nod.
