Page 55 of Born to Make You Smile

His hooded eyes swept over me, sending a bolt through my body. “Grace, you look exceptional.”

“Thanks.”

I looked nice, professional, and not overly sexy. I was in stretchy black pants and a ruffled blue blouse. I applied minimal makeup and styled my curly hair down. I had the urge to show him more. What would he do if I stripped naked before him right now? Would he reject me? Would he take me in and then devour me?

My heart beat picked up, and I closed my eyes to contain my wayward thoughts.

“Are you all right?” he asked. I looked up, his face drawn with concern.

“Um. Yeah.” I nodded a bit nervously, then moved to let him in. “You look very nice, too. Very dashing.”

Too damn dashing.

He pulled out a small bottle of champagne from the paper bag he was holding. “We have a bit of time before dinner. Thought we could enjoy a glass or two before we head out.”

I nodded, still trying to get over this whole new version of Gavin before me. “Sure.”

He stepped inside, and his enticing scent saturated the room, making my knees weak. He removed his blazer and carefully draped it over the desk chair. Then, with apop, he opened up the bottle of champagne, filled two flutes, and we sat down on the loveseat. Something about champagne felt dangerous. Sexy. Romantic. I could sense my inhibitions lowering with each passing moment, each sip of the delicious bubbles coating my mouth.

The alcohol loosened us up, and we began chatting about his daughters. He told me how he’d dropped them off at his sister and brother-in-law’s house in Ancaster.

“I drove past McMaster, where I did my undergrad. All the memories came flooding back. I can’t believe it’s been twenty-four years since I’ve graduated. Those were good times. Simpler times.”

I nodded as I took a sip of champagne, trying to comprehend the fact that I wasn’t even born when he received his undergraduate degree.

“Were the girls excited to spend time with their auntie and uncle?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. The girlsloveit there. Lorraine and Colin have an indoor pool, and they just go mad.”

“That’s wonderful.”

I was pleased that the girls had that kind of strong family connection. Besides my mom’s cousin Sonja in Orillia and my absentee father, wherever he was, I had no known living relatives.

“A little more?” He grabbed the champagne bottle and held it above my glass.

“Just a bit.”

As he poured, the foam peeked above the glass before it settled comfortably.

“Grace. I have a confession to make.” He stared at me intensely.

My pulse picked up, unsure of what he was about to confess.

“I have something that belongs to you,” he admitted. “Something very special and important.”

He stood and reached into the brown bag he’d come in with, pulling out my poetry book.

Holy shit.

I had a generous gulp of champagne, then put the glass on the small wooden table in front of me.

“Where did you find it?” I said, the words barely managing to escape.

“In my car. A few days ago, I was doing some interior cleaning, and it was wedged under the passenger seat. I should have told you...but well, anyhow, I assume you must have been looking for it.”

I nodded slowly, running my eyes over his face, trying to gather any sort of hint that he’d read the poems. “Yes. I searched everywhere. I thought it was lost forever.”

He handed me the book, and I rubbed my fingers over the smooth leather, hoping it would somehow calm my nerves.

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