Chapter 2

Lisa's POV

I should have known Damien would show up today. When Carla called and said the lunch would be between "family", the word must have encompassed Damien too. Ugh, what do I mean? I sound so selfish. He's like their only son now. Just because I wished to avoid him doesn't mean Carla should be deprived of the opportunity to see her son. Yet I shouldn't have my heart leap and flutter at the sight of the man I want to keep at an arm's length.

I dump the last plate atop the stack of other soiled platters and lift them up for the fifth trip to the kitchen, where Carla is rinsing off more cutlery sets to put in the dishwasher.

"Set them over there, Lisa. Thank you."

I put down the pile of dirty dishes on the counter near the sink. "Don't mention it, Carla. I'm happy to help." Even as I once swore to cut off anything that would remind me of my late husband, and start over someplace outside of Oakenville. I would move Duke's Table to the new location too. But I felt really terrible right after. It wasn't Carla's fault my marriage went the way it did. Neither of Keith's parents seemed to know him as well as I did. Plus she had stood by me ever since, from the time I had Willow, and treated me like I was her actual daughter, something my own mother had never bothered to do. Her ambassadorial career had always been much more important.

"You sure you don't want to take some food home?" Carla turns to the plates I recently brought in and begins to rinse them under the running faucet.

"I'm good. I probably won't eat anything else tonight."

"Alright. So what do you think of Damien?"

Eh? I blink half a dozen times, caught off guard by the question. "What… what do you mean?" I'm still reeling from the shock of the sudden question.

"Exactly what I asked. Do you think he's handsome? I couldn't agree more."

My laughter is a little too loud. Forced. And tense. "Where did that come from?"

"Don't pretend you haven't been checking him out all day. I don't blame you at all, my dear. I would too, if he wasn't my son. He's filled out in the right places ever since he joined the military, that gorgeous, hunky piece of eye candy."

I press my lips together and stare intently at a spot on the floor. Busted might be the right word. When I walked into the patio to find Damien standing there, thrown right out of my fantasies with a black t-shirt on that clung to his shoulders, chest, and stomach, showing off his hard earned physique, I was ashamed to note that my body's very first reaction had been a pooling ache in between my thighs, followed by a dull throb in my chest, and fingers that itched to run themselves all over him. How could I keep pushing him away and want him so much at once? And too think I was not-so-surreptitiously stealing glances at him throughout the lunch because I couldn't keep my eyes off… I might just sink through the floor and never come out again.

"It's a good thing he's currently single too."

I whirl around to face Carla. "But I thought…"

"He told me so himself." Carla loads the last of the dishes into the dishwasher and proceeds to wash her hands. I could not stop the way my cheeks warmed at those words. She turns to smile at me. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, darling. But why don't you give it a shot? New developments can come in a male form that looks like my son."

I'm so astounded my jaws nearly drop off my face. "Give what a shot?"

"Or don't you like him? I'm sure you do." Wiping her hands with a flannel cloth, she drifts close to me, motherly concern taking up her features. "Don't give a shit about whatever anyone else might say and do what makes you happy. I might be the worst for saying this but… Keith might be dead, but you're still alive. Make the most of it." She pats my shoulder, and I watch her back as she heads to the door. If only it was as easy as she made it sound. I heave a sigh, and leave the kitchen too in search of Willow. It's time to go home.

I follow my daughter's joyful gurgles to the living room to find her in the laps of a blond figure half-sprawling across a grey luxurious sofa, looking every inch a father. For a second, my heart stops in my chest. This could have been Keith, should've been him. I almost thought it was. But I blink again and again, and it's just Damien.

"Mamma!" Willow acknowledges me with a gummy smile as I approach.

"Come on Willow, let's go." I shove my hands under her arm and hoist her away from Damien. I don't wait around to say anything. I also don't stop to watch his expression before I march towards the nearest exit out of the living room.

I had just fastened Willow into the baby car seat of my Cadillac when a shadow fell over me from behind. I slam the car door shut and whirl around to find Damien looming over me, hands buried deep into the pockets of his beige slacks, silhouette illuminated by the rays of the setting sun behind him. He's so close our feet are almost touching, so close I can make out the brown and green flecks that melded into eyes the color of liquid honey that held mine in a piercing gaze. Oh. He looks equal parts menacing and beautiful. My heart hiccups as my own gaze trails the contours of his face. It is angular, but not severe, more model-like than harsh. His hair is a little longer now, unlike the first and last time I saw him, when the pale gold tufts were cropped close to his head. And his lips, his full, pinkish lips. I look away before I give into the temptation of crashing my mouth against his.

"Hey, Lisa." His voice is soft, but the sound of my name on his lips sent sizzling electricity running through my body, igniting every nerve ending, and setting my skin on fire. I dig my nails into the meat of my palm. I've really got to get a handle on myself.

"Damien," I respond in a dumb, breathy voice.

"Thought I should catch up before you leave. I needed to talk to you." He retracts his hands from his pockets, hands twice as large as mine, and folds his arms across his chest. I remember one of those hands splayed across my lower back, pulling me hard against his solid chest, and the other slipping beneath my blouse…

I suppress a shiver. "About what?"

He folds his lips together, then shrugs. "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

My cheeks flame at the words, at the thought behind it. For some odd reason, I find Damien's concern for me flattering. It's like a high school crush draping me with his jacket on a particularly cold, or not-so-cold night. Snap out of it, snap out of it.

How exactly have I been all this while? Since the day Keith died? Since the day I took a rather long detour to my car after his funeral, so I don't have to run into anymore sympathizers, and most especially, to avoid being seen together in public with Damien? I barely remember how the past year went. Most of it consisted of overnight work at Duke's Table, having beers once in a while with Emilie, fending off unwanted attention from slimy men who thought my husband's death was just the ticket they needed to claim me as theirs. Even Trevor Jennings, the middle aged owner of the town's most successful store, PeakMart, with the receding hairline got a lot bolder and insistent on his quest to make me his third squeeze. And crawling in bed at night with nothing but honey colored eyes cramming my thoughts, and dreams of soft pinkish lips devouring me.

"I've been fine. Totally." The lie rolls off my tongue, smooth as butter. At least I think so.

"Really?" His eyes bore into me. "I'm glad. Really glad."

"What about you?" I question. "How have you been?"

"Oh, nothing much." He raises a hand to rub his nape. "Except that I'm not a soldier anymore."

"Seriously? But why?" My eyes widen in surprise. But then I zero in on the length of his hair. "Now that I think of it, it's sorta… obvious."

"It is?"

"I mean the hair." I gesture to his blond head. "They don't let you grow out your hair in the military."

"Yeah." But his amber eyes are twinkling. "I still am a savior of princesses and damsels in distress, though. And everyone in between."

I wrinkle my nose in false distaste. "Oh yeah? You ever rescued Halle Bailey?"

"You wouldn't know, Lady," he replies with a grin.

"Oh, but I will."

"You wouldn't."

"I…" I start to laugh, and he joins me, a deep rumble in his chest that bubbles up as mirth. His eyes crinkle in a full blown smile as he stares down at me. "Good Lord, it feels like ages."

My chest heaves as I ask,"What?"

"I mean, we haven't…"

From the edge of my vision, I spot Trevor sauntering, paunch forward, past the Reed's massive brick residence. With panic rising in my chest, I put my hand at the back of Damien's neck to bring him closer, and hide away from the deep set, lecherous, roving eyes of Trevor Jennings. At least that was my intention. But I didn't factor in that my lips would, somehow collide with his. And just like that, I am kissing Damien Reed for the second time.

It's kind of… a little more than a peck, just our lips pressed hotly together. Damien's eyes widen a fraction, in surprise at what I've done, before his hand came up on my waist to steady me. It is a kiss, but barely, and it certainly doesn't warrant the way my heart pounded in my chest, or the fact there is something warm and liquid looping at the bottom of my belly. I pull back, ignoring every temptation to rub myself against him, and look up at him, his chest heaving up and down in shallow breaths, eyes darkened with lust. I feel a hot, really hot blush climbing up my neck and into my face. I need to avert my eyes. He needs to look somewhere else too. Why are we staring at each other?

"Umm… I'm gonna go…" I glance around. Trevor Jennings is nowhere to be seen. Good.

"Wait." His arms shoot out to plant themselves at the both sides of my head, boxing me in with my back to the car. I freeze for a second, but because I can't afford to wait, I duck under his arms and wrench open my car, slamming the door after me as fast as I can. I start the ignition, and turn to spare Damien one last look, one last look at the strands of hair falling over his forehead and his flushed cheeks and incredulous stare before I ease the Cadillac away from Carla and Demetrius' property.