Chocolate Dreams at the Gingerbread Cafe by Rebecca Raisin

Author:Rebecca Raisin [Raisin, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472094711
Publisher: Carina
Published: 2014-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I’m languishing in the tub when Damon gets home. It seems to be my go-to place in times of stress. There’s something about feeling weightless and submerging yourself that makes all your worries ebb away momentarily. He wanders in, his lazy, sexy smile not failing to make my pulse race.

“You some kind of mermaid or what?” he says, trailing a hand in the water.

“I think so.” I grip the edge of the bath and pull myself over the edge to kiss him hello.

“Charlie’s out with the kids next door again. She loves it here.” He sits on the tiled ledge.

“Did she talk to you about how she feels guilty loving people as well as her mom?”

He smiles. “She did, and she told me what you said, which was pretty sweet. I think she feels better now. I rang Dianne, and told her to speak to Charlie, to put her mind at ease. It’s one thing I’m grateful for, that there’s no animosity between me and Dianne any more. She’s happy with her new life, and I am more than happy with mine. Makes it easier to put Charlie’s needs first.”

I arch my eyebrow. “So you’re happy, you say?” My heart races when I watch his expression as his gaze travels up the length of my naked body.

“Hmm, I’d say right now I’m…distracted. What’s say we go take a lie-down before dinner?” Before I can answer he’s holding my hands and pulling me out of the bath.

I smirk as I say, “Oh, I’m not tired.”

His voice is gruff with desire. “That right? Well, you won’t be sleeping.” He carries me to the bedroom, as if we’re some kind of honeymooning couple.

***

Still smiling from Damon’s so-called lie-down, I change into old sweats. They’re too large, and are stained from cooking, or more likely from eating, but as comforting as a safety blanket.

In the kitchen, Damon’s at the table, his hands clasped together, looking out of the window as though he’s mesmerized by the sinking sun. Two glasses of white wine sit waiting, condensation running off the cool glasses.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he says lazily. “Don’t you just look adorable dressed like that?”

“Yeah, it’s the latest look. You know the whole sloth vibe…”

“I don’t know about that…you make sweats look good.”

I sigh inwardly. His flirty, sexy voice makes me want to ravish him again, but I know Charlie will be home soon. I can’t remember ever feeling this intoxicated by love before. It’s so powerful, like a drug, it makes it difficult to focus on anything other than him.

We sit quietly, listening to the sounds of the children’s shrieks as they play chase outside. It’s one of those very rare times when you suddenly realize nothing else could make this moment any more perfect. I’m flushed with love; it feels extraordinary, as if we’re the only ones in the world who’ve loved like this.

“So.” He turns to me, and by the look in his eyes I know what the topic is going to be.

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