Chapter Fourteen
Wren
D aniel lived in a California-fancy yet funky split-level bungalow, and if I had to guess, he had a decorator. A very pricey one.
His place was one hundred percent pristine: a living area filled with ivory slipcovered sofas, a cream-colored leather ottoman, and a fireplace beckoned me on our tour. Made to look lived-in, no doubt at a cost.
My luggage had continued to linger in the foyer ever since he took my hand and guided me through the house. Part of me was afraid to let go of him. The other half feared what this all meant. I was here, living on the edge by my standards, and scared by my own actions and choices.
We hadn’t gone upstairs yet but landed in an all-white kitchen, bright paintings on the walls and small touches everywhere. If I wasn’t mistaken, the knobs on the cabinets were Mackenzie Childs hand painted-ceramic.
The frosted white subway tiles caught my eye, blanketing the backsplash, not a speck of dirt or grime to be found. Further noting the expensive chrome and stainless appliances—stand mixer, coffeemaker, blender, cooking utensils—I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you cook a lot?” I felt my eyebrow rise and my snark climb to the surface.
“Not much. Never, actually. It looks hella good though, right?” He winked, knowing what a fool he sounded like. I’d forgotten how selfless Daniel could be in his humor. Back in college, he was smart, handsome, wealthy, and funny, a quadruple whammy.
I couldn’t stop the laughter barreling out of me. “What about the kilted cocoa? With the coffee?”
“Ahhh, that’s a beverage. Those I do. Food, no…”
“Oh my.” I couldn’t control my giggling. “You were always a bit pampered, living in that decadent apartment in college.”
“Hey, don’t hate the player.” He said it with a smile and wink.
Throwing my hands up in the air, I exclaimed, “Never!”
“On a serious note, if there is anything you want, I can have it brought in. Or a chef can come cook for us.”
“The kitchen should get some use,” I suggested.
He winked again, and if I wasn’t already falling for this man, I would be now. “It could get some other uses…”
“Oh, come on, I’m sure you can scrounge up some eggs to scramble?” I interrupted his double-entendre, steering our conversation into G-rated territory.
“That I can do! Some foods—eggs, turkey sausage, oatmeal—are all in my repertoire. And of course, coffee.”
“You look ready to take a bow.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners, and once again my mind flashed back to when we were much younger. He’d been so cute and sexy then—in equal spades. Now, he was flat-out sexy.
And I couldn’t make sense of how I was standing in Daniel’s kitchen right now.
He came close, pulling me into his arms, his lips grazing my forehead. “I’m so glad you decided to come,” he said softly.
I felt myself inhale and exhale, Daniel’s gaze on my rising and falling chest.
“I hope this is okay,” he went on, somehow picking up on my reticence.
“We are grown-ups,” was my answer. “I am struck by my wild abandon, yet here I am.”
He used his pointer finger to tip my chin up. “If it feels like too much, you can stay at a hotel. I don’t want you to, but I want you to feel comfortable.”
“I’m good, promise. It’s all taking a bit getting used to.”
He laced his fingers through mine and his lips found my mouth. We stood, taking up space, kissing, closed-mouthed and then not… Our bodies hummed as our tongues danced, and it felt so right in the moment.
His free hand found my hair, and I felt his palm smooth down my straightened locks. “I miss the curls, wild and crazy like you.”
“My hairdresser beat them into submission,” I teased back, our mouths only an inch or two apart.
“You look gorgeous no matter what.” His voice came out husky and deep and it reminded me of another time when he’d taunted me about my panty choice. “Come on. Let’s go outside and turn on the firepit.”
Taking my hand, Daniel walked me outside to an urban oasis. A firepit sat in the center of a stone patio, a covered swimming pool in the distance, a myriad of plants and bushes giving us privacy as we sat on the outdoor love seat.
“Fireplace for dummies,” Daniel stated as he flicked a switch and the flames came to life.
“Your whole place is outfitted for ease.”
“I’ll take it if it means I can sit here and stare at you rather than make a fire.”
I felt myself blush. A forty-year-old woman, whose cheeks reddened at a compliment. Sheesh. “Tell me about living out here. It must be a dream, knowing everyone who is someone, rubbing elbows with movie stars.” I steered the conversation toward everyday life, although Los Angeles was far from mundane.
“Let me grab some wine and be right back,” Daniel said as if we did this regularly.
Maybe he did, but I didn’t…
He popped back with a bottle of red in one hand and two glasses and a corkscrew in the other. Handing me the glasses, he made quick work of the bottle, pouring us each some and saying, “It’s not as great as people make it out. Everyone wants privacy, and it’s in low supply. Every other person I give a lesson to has bodyguards and is avoiding paparazzi. I don’t mind all that…I get wanting to protect your loved ones and quiet or special times. But you just never know why someone wants to get to know you. Is it your fame? Your money? Your connections? Sorry…this is turning into a monologue.” He clinked his glass into mine and said, “Cheers to you knowing me when I was a nobody.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said something like that. I think you called yourself ‘everyday people’ earlier.”
He stayed quiet but appeared to be digesting my comment. “I always liked that about you. You don’t moderate your words. I admire it. You are always genuinely you,” he stated, not giving away any emotion.
“I mean, you are somebody. And in college, I wouldn’t say you were a nobody either, more like the most popular guy on campus.” It was true; I didn’t censor myself. It might have been an attribute Daniel admired for a moment, but it was often my downfall. Either way, I continued. “After hearing about the privacy issues plaguing everyone you know, I get why your friend’s discretion while skiing was so important to you. Even though he wasn’t supposed to be doing that, he trusted you to go with him, and you followed through.”
“And then he took care of things. I mean, paid bills, made sure the staff and hospital were well taken care of—I have a few true friends like that, and that’s it.”
“We think it’s so glamorous from the outside looking in… I see it’s not quite that.”
“Like when someone wants to marry you for your perceived fame and prestige. I guess that’s why I make a point of being a regular Joe. When you have been burned because of your passion, or career—”
“Something you worked hard at all your life to succeed at,” I interrupted.
“Yes, I know, but being taken advantage of for it was like a burn. A singe I won’t forget.”
I took a slug of my wine before running my free hand over his and intertwining our fingers. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Me too. My dad couldn’t let it be. Rubbed salt in my wounds for a long time, making it worse than it had to be.”
In his deep green eyes were pools of emotion. There was something so sexy and attractive about a man who felt, really took all of it in. “You didn’t deserve that either.”
Peering over his wine goblet, he smiled and asked, “How did I deserve you? This is the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
It felt like the subject was closed, and I didn’t push. Pocketing my new understanding of Daniel, I took in the gorgeous man in front of me. “Tomorrow may be better. You can attempt to teach me golf. You’ve seen my stroke. Although are you sure it’s okay? I truly want to see your daily life…but with no ulterior motive.”
I couldn’t help but think of moments earlier when Daniel spoke about being taken advantage of—
“Ha! I’m thrilled to show you and to show you off. Not to mention, I’ve worked wonders with worse.”
Wineglasses still in our hands, Daniel leaned over and gave me a quick kiss, lifting my legs onto his lap, which was how the evening sped by. We finished a bottle of Cabernet, the fire glowing in front of us, sparks flickering between us, and much easier conversation flowing. Mostly golf bloopers and stories about my residency.
Until I yawned and stated I was exhausted.
Daniel set our glasses on the end table, turned off the fire and took my hand. “Come on. I will show you the bedrooms.”
Despite it being a bungalow-style house, there were three steps leading to a corridor behind the living area.
“Oh, my suitcase!”
“I’ll get it in a second.”
Despite the wine, my blood twitched and scampered in my veins. Anxiety, for sure.
“I know you’re itchy with nerves, so this is the guest room,” Daniel said, holding open a door to a lavish bedroom in a zillion hues of purple.
“Also decorated?” I asked, barely able to put a sentence together.
“I can’t take credit for a single thing.”
I pinched Daniel’s arm and said, “So LA.” He laughed and my nerves started to dissipate, but I wasn’t ready for whatever was happening between us. “Do you mind if I stay here? I need myself to settle down. After all, this is only our second date in adult-ish life…”
“There’s no need to explain, Birdie. Go, check out the bathroom, draw yourself a bath or turn on the shower. I’ll leave your suitcase over there,” he said, pointing toward the corner.
As he brushed his lips over mine, I felt a ripple of excitement run down my spine.
I liked this guy as an adult more than I’d crushed on him as a college girl.