Chapter 38
After we’re both breathless and spinning slowly back down to reality, Dom sets me down with a kiss, then hands me my kaftan and a soft cashmere blanket off the sofa.
He kisses me deeply again before telling me to meet him outside.
“Wrap up in these and go sit at the table out there. I’m going to feed you like a fucking queen.”
I laugh and start to protest. “I can help get everything to the table.”
But he plants a look on his face that tells me not to argue with him.
“Just let me take care of you.” He kisses me again before gently nudging me toward the lanai. “I want to. Now go.”
“Okay, okay.” I laugh. “But I’m taking these out too.”
I grab what’s left of the wine bottle and my glass from the counter. Then I pull my silky kaftan back over my head and wrap the blanket around my shoulders, not bothering to put anything on underneath.
When I walk outside, the view hits me again like it’s my first time seeing it. The long teak wood table overlooking the garden, the shimmering diamond-filled bay below. I take a seat in one of the dining chairs and lean back, resting my head against the tall backrest, feeling dizzy with happiness. After a full day of writing and another top fuck of my life, I know I’ve hit the jackpot winding up here. Finding him.
My head is screaming that it’s way too early to feel this strongly about him, but my heart is whispering that I must be falling in love. I fit so perfectly in his arms that I can’t imagine being anywhere else as long as I live.
This feeling of peace and serenity is going to be hard to find back home, among the sirens and noisy bustle of the city. It’s not just the palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze, or the water glittering in the distance. It’s Dom. The way I feel perfectly myself with him. Like I have nothing to hide when we’re together. Free to be myself. Imperfect, closeted skeletons and all.
“You were ravenous when you arrived.” He’s suddenly behind me. “I can only imagine how hungry you are after that.”
“Me?” I laugh. “You just gave yourself a serious cardio workout in there.”
He’s holding a tray of seafood, along with his wine glass from earlier. There’s a post-sex glow radiating from his skin that makes me want to do it all over again if this is what he looks like afterward. A little flushed, like he just got back from a hard run.
“That was just a warm-up.” He narrows his eyes. “Don’t tempt me into really breaking a sweat before you get the chance to fill up. You’re going to need to refuel.”
I grin. “I like the sound of that.”
He sets the tray down and starts heaping our plates with the most incredible looking seafood I’ve ever seen.
* * *
By the end, I’m happily sprawled across cloud nine. Shrimp, king crab legs, and Wagyu medallions seared to perfection on the grill. It was just as good as the fanciest meals I’ve had back in New York. Maybe better since I got to enjoy it with him.
I finally push myself back from the table. “I’m going to kiss whoever gave you cooking lessons.”
“My father would probably love that, but my mother, not so much.” He pretends to look appalled. “And neither would I.”
I lean over and kiss him.
We’ve already watched another spectacular fuchsia-streaked sunset while we ate, and now we’re sitting under a blanket of Edison bulbs mixed with the stars.
“Your dad must have been a Michelin-star chef.”
Our first bottle of white wine turned into a second about an hour ago. I am deliciously tipsy, enjoying Dom’s company while listening to the sound of the waves crashing ashore in the distance. A faint light from a boat on the surface of the water catches my eye. I watch it bob up and down, unable to imagine what it would be like to float out there right now, surrounded by nothing but dark waves and the creatures swimming below.
Quinton’s outdoor patio is heaven on earth. The table is sandwiched between two blazing gas firepits, overlooking a full moon that cascades across the ocean as far as I can see toward the horizon. The palm trees swaying gently below us make everything feel serene. Solar lights line each pathway, highlighting the palm trees’ shadows as they sway in the salty breeze. Probably still hovering around seventy-five degrees out. Warm enough to not need a sweater quite yet. I could stay right here forever and it would never grow old.
“No, my father definitely didn’t have a Michelin star.” He pours himself another splash of wine. My glass doesn’t need it quite yet.
“Well, even without one, he must have taught you well,” I insist, gently trying to coax out more stories about his life growing up in California. I want to know more, and how it all led him to this moment, an ocean away from it all.
“True.” He smiles over at me, like he wants to say more. “We were pretty spoiled growing up, especially in the kitchen.”
I laugh. “Don’t tell me your dad is Gordon Ramsay.” I have no idea who his father is, but nothing is off the table, considering his brother.
“No.” He laughs, finally relenting. “Dad owned Paramour Studios.”
“What?” I deadpan, trying not to gape. The hits keep coming. I stare at Dom, my heart pounding. He’s so humble and down to earth. I never would have guessed that two men in his family are Hollywood royalty.
“My mother is Royce Carsen. Dad fell in love with her on set in the late eighties. That’s also how Quinton got his start. He began tagging along with Dad to do films when he was — gosh, around four years old. Old enough to sit still and know when to be quiet while he got to watch the magic of a movie set unfold. He learned the basics of directing when most other kids were learning how to play t-ball. Runs in his blood now.”
“And you were never into that?” I study his face for any of the tension he appeared to have earlier.
“I rarely talk about this stuff.” He shifts on his chair. “I usually try to keep my personal life separate from all that.”
“Why?” I genuinely want to know. I feel like I’m finally peeling back the layers of his life. Which, until tonight, have been mostly a mystery to me. “Don’t they count as your personal life too?”
“Money and fame have this weird effect on people. I’ve been burned so many times when people find out I have some heavy hitters in my family. It’s happened my whole life. I was engaged at one point.” His eyes shift to mine, looking slightly embarrassed — pained, even.
“You were? What happened?” I try to picture the type of woman someone like Dom would propose to. A tinge of jealousy rolls through me.
He sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath. His face looks stern, like he’s practiced closing off whatever hurt he’s about to reopen.
“Her name was Taryn. She swore up and down that none of that stuff mattered to her. The fame, the fortune, the red-carpet events, and everything else that comes with your dad owning Paramour Studios.”
“And then what?”
“I found out that she tried seducing Quinton for a movie role three weeks before our wedding.”
“Oh my God. You must have been devastated.”
“To say the least.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m sure you loved her, but she sounds like a real asshat.”
I smile, hoping he’s not offended at the joke.
He erupts in laughter at first, then quiets down to the sad chuckle at the end of a joke that hits a little too close to home.
“Turns out, she was.” He smiles weakly, like the wound has reopened. “Quinton told me what happened right after. I was furious. Mom had to call all the guests, which was like eight hundred of their friends and family. I never saw it coming.”
“That explains why you didn’t tell me much about your family until now.”
He nods.
“She wasn’t the only one,” he says. “Just the first one who was caught so brazenly.”
“So, now you try to hide it.” I realize what a huge deal this was for him to bring me here and tell me about his brother.
“People treat us differently. All of us. Once they find out.” I watch it all pour out of him, like he’s letting go of something he’s held close to his chest for too long. “It’s hard to know who to trust, and who’s just looking for a handout.”
As much as I would love the opportunity to pitch Quinton Rockwell my script, the look on Dom’s face right now tells me that I can’t take him up on that offer.
“Dom, I can’t pitch your brother,” I say quietly.
“What?” His voice is suddenly all gravel and steel, like he can’t believe what I’m saying.
“Not after what you’ve just told me. I don’t want to risk you thinking that I’m just using you for the connection with your brother. You deserve a clean slate from all that. And someone who isn’t going to take you up on that offer. I’d rather just take my chances with the connections I have back home and not risk muddying the water with you over this.”
His eyes shoot to mine, and he leans back in his chair. “But I’m the one that offered, it was my idea. At first, I thought maybe there was some chance that you’d found out who my brother was, and that was why you chose my rental while you were here finishing your script.” He takes my hand in his, smiling. “But I’m certain now that you had no idea I was on the other end of that reservation.”
“I don’t want to put you in the position of feeling taken advantage of. I won’t pitch him if it’s going to bother you, even if you tell me you don’t mind. I have contacts in the broadcast industry. I can make it without you.”
He smiles, then laughs before looking at me in disbelief. “Well, this is a first.” He leans over to kiss me. “Someone actually trying to turn down a family favor from me. You are full of surprises, Liv.”
“Have you dated anyone seriously since Taryn?” I ask quietly.
“No.” His voice has turned soft again. “I’ve never had any interest in getting that close to the flame again. I’d resigned myself to flying solo. I knew I had pretty much everything most people would consider to be the recipe for a perfect life. I told myself that was enough. That I didn’t need anyone else. Until I saw you standing there in your underwear that day.”
He cracks a smile — I burst out laughing.
Then he leans over the table to give me another long kiss, letting his lips linger against mine for as long as I want.