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.Lisa's POV When Selena sent me an invite to her wedding, I jumped at the opportunity to leave Oakenville, even if it's for a few days, away from the pity and scrutiny of townspeople. I can use the break too, after an aggressive devotion to the affairs of my business, to burying myself in work and leaving no room for intrusive thoughts. Willow yawns, and from the crook of my arm she observes the environs where we stand in front of the airport, like a king surveying his land from the top of his castle. Her blond short twin tails bob along with her head, and I dig my teeth down my lower lip at this momento of her father. I did not know what to feel when I gazed down at his unrecognizable body that day in the morgue, an hour after he had been fished out from the wreck that used to be his Porsche. Yet after his funeral, I was an automaton whose very first sensation was relief. I shake my head in an attempt to banish the thoughts before I fish through my handbag for my phone. Part of
Lisa's POV The holiday villa is just a ten-minute drive away from the resort, maybe fourteen if you decide to stroll your way there. Selena eases her car into the garage and kills the engine of her Mustang. "We're here. Finally." I alight from the car with Willow nestled in the crook of one arm and hoist my suitcase out of the trunk with my other hand. I stand before the enormous glass and white-walled mansion and breathe a sigh, marveled. "This must have cost a fortune." "Yep. I thought the same thing the first time I came here," Yvette concurs. "You both tell that to Wade." Selena smiles proudly. "Gimme that." She collects my bag from me and rolls it along beside her as we cross a covered swimming pool, and the wide front patio with two luxurious L-shaped couches surrounding a lilac table to get to the door. For some reason, Selena is trailing behind us, lugging my bag as though it's filled with three mountains. "Is the suitcase heavy?" I ask, glancing back. "Nev
Lisa's POV Damien turns around, and away from the wide window to glance at the door and whoever must have entered, clutching a half filled bottle of water with one hand, the other hand at his hip, and his eyes grow twice their size as his gaze alights on me. The tawny skin of his bare torso is bathed in sunlight, lighting up his concave abs, his big biceps. I saw Glenn shirtless a while ago downstairs, but he didn't inspire any lurch in my chest like Damien just did. His blond hair is wet and slicked back from his face, probably damp from shower. I have no idea for how long we've been standing this way, staring at each other. But when I open my mouth, an impulsive scream erupts from the pit of my stomach. "Aaaah…!" "What is that?" I hear Selena ask from the stairs. "Did you see a bogeyman?" That must be Glenn. Already thuds are sounding on the stairs. Someone is coming here. Damien notices, and quickly flies across the room to me and clamps his palm over my mouth, dropp
Lisa's POV "Hey, Cupcake!" Selena waves at me. "Get over here. I was beginning to think you'd hole up in your room all night." I see her fiery hair in the midst of the flower-and-grass-skirt-wearing dancing crowd, and make my way towards her. She is flanked by three brunettes, one of whom I recognize as Yvette. The others are sizing me up, sweeping glances from the top of my wavy ponytail to my polished passion pink toes. Selena grins, and adjusts the halo of flowers on top of her head. She is wearing an ivory dress with a spaghetti strap that hugged her body like a second skin, a plunging neckline, and three heart shaped cutouts all the way down the front of the dress that barely covered her bum, from her bust to her waist. She looks like a femme fatale on a mission to steal all hearts before sunrise. And with this phenomenal dress, she definitely will. "I came over as soon as I took Willow to the sitters. Great dress, Selena. You look amazing." "Thanks," Selena smiles. "You
Yvette's POV I slipped away from my friends as soon as I got the chance to, and right now I'm somewhere less noisy, somewhere closer to the shores, where I can listen to the sound of waves lapping and crashing against stones. It's not like I hate parties, or other people's company. It's just that this is one of those times where I'd rather sit in silence and read my one of favorite ebooks. No one will notice I'm gone anyway. They'll be too busy soaking up attention from men to care. This part of the beach is not as quiet as I imagined though. It's quite faraway from the main party venue, which means it's not illuminated by any tiki torches, only by the light of a full moon. Which also means some partygoers have chosen this place to be the site of intense make out sessions. The night air still carries strains of the traditional beach music as I pick my way in search of a comfortable place to sit, wincing as I hear moans and smooch sounds coming from a particular shadowed corner.
Damien's POV "Man, this is wild," Glenn comments, looking at the photo on his phone. That photo is basically what everyone is talking about and boy, do they have different versions of the story to entertain us with. The cheating tramp who left home with her kid to cavort with a lover. A runaway baby mama who stalks her ex-lover to Palm Paradise. And those aren't even the worst of them. The stories are so creative I could laugh. Except there's nothing hilarious about them. "And the comments were just so nasty. It's a good thing the picture was taken down," Matt put in beside me, raising his cup to his lips to take a swig of beer. Yeah, I bet. Nasty comments directed at an innocent woman who probably has no clue about this. Rage surges through my veins on her behalf. I wonder how this would be for Lisa, as society's usually harsher to the women in situations like this. If only I can get my hands on whoever uploaded that picture. I imagine putting my hands around their neck, squee
Lisa's POV I wake up to a ding from my phone at the bedside table. I yawn, then roll languidly to the side of my bed to pluck it up and squints at the screen. It's a W******p notification. Selena added me to a group called 'The Wedding Train'. With a string of all kind of emojis she could lay her fingers on attached. Bride emoji, love emojis. Brrr. Selena: Rise n' shine, bitches!!! Breakfast downstairs for everyone by 8! Jeremy: huh? TiffanySpicey: Okeydoke! I sit up quickly on my bed and rub my eyes. Sunlight is pouring in from the wide window that offers a terrific view of the sea and beautiful sunrise. I breathe, breathe, breathe in the salt breeze, then burrow back into my covers. I hadn't realized the pre-wedding getaway Selena had in mind involved everyone, including the groomsmen. Including Damien. I don't feel up to eating with them right now. Especially after that stunt Damien pulled on me last night. "What the hell was that for?" I whirled on him the moment we left
Lisa's POV "Hey! Lisa! Damien! Over here!" Selena's shrill voice rents the air as she waves us over to the terrace. "Hi." I wave back, exchanging a couple of greetings with a few others. Glenn is looking at me like he's a wolf and I'm red meat, or maybe I'm just imagining it. The sun is mild, but it might be playing tricks on my eyesight. A low Japanese table replaces the lilac table I saw yesterday, and has already been set for eleven with platters of soft-scrambled eggs, smoky bacon, potato and cheddar hash, sour cream coffee cakes, toast bread, slices of avocado, apples and frozen berries. It's like food for a small county. "Hey man," Damien goes over to exchange handshakes with Wade. "Good to see you," Wade greets. "Wow," I breathe, settling down atop the only available, soft velvet cushion beside Damien, and put Willow on my laps. She coos at the sight of food, and reaches out with grubby hands to snag herself an avocado slice. I pull her against me, as far away from