Page 24 of Secret Daddies

She cast her gaze around my apartment, and I grinned. Yeah, this place was my favorite of the homes I had around the state—it was always where I came when it was time to entertain, with the dim lighting, artificial fire casting a crackling glow over the couch, and the suggestive abstract paintings on the walls.

“I think your living room alone is twice the size of my apartment,” she joked as I returned from the kitchen with a glass for her. When I handed it to her, our fingers touched for a second, just as they had when I’d given her the coffee back in the trailer, and she drew her hand back swiftly.

“Wait till you see the balcony,” I teased, clicking a button on the remote sitting on the edge of the couch, sending a couple of glass doors sliding open across from us. Her eyebrows nearly shot off the top of her head.

“Wait, there’s a balcony…?”

I led her outside, where I had the table laid up for dinner—I could have hired staff to take care of it for me, but I knew that the personal touch would always be way more attractive than anything anyone else could do. Besides, I liked to cook, and it wasn’t like I got much of a chance, given that my dietitian had me on a strict regime to make sure my abs popped on camera the way the studio wanted them to.

I left her to admire the view, returning with the delicious pasta I had made from scratch earlier today. When I emerged onto the large balcony once more, I found her leaning on the bar, looking down across the glittering lights of the city below. A slight breeze pressed her dress against her body, and I could make out everysingle curve the fabric was still hiding from me, a promise of just how well things were going to go later tonight.

When she caught a whiff of the food, she turned to face me, a smile spreading across her face when she saw what I was bringing out for her.

“Woah, this looks amazing.”

“Glad to hear it. I pride myself on my pasta.”

“You made this? From scratch?”

“I sure did,” I replied, passing her a plate as she took her seat at the table—her fingertips lingered on her wine glass for a moment, so delicate and feminine they could have come from one of the paintings adorning my living room.

“I can’t do much more than boil some rice,” she laughed, reaching for her fork. “This is…this is really impressive, Lee.”

“That’s the idea,” I shot back, taking a sip of my wine and letting the heavy, musky taste of it rest on my tongue for a moment before I swallowed. She was watching me carefully, taking in every little detail of the way I moved. Oh, she knew exactly why I had invited her here tonight—and I was glad neither of us were under any delusions about just what we were going to get up to as soon as this food was done.

“Have you always lived in the city?” she asked as she paused between bites, casting her gaze out over the view again. I chuckled.

“No,” I replied. “I was a small-town kid. Grew up in a trailer in the ass-end of nowhere with just my parents.”

“Oh, really?”

She sounded surprised. I didn’t know why I’d been so honest with her—I didn’t make a habit of spilling my guts like this on a first proper date. Hardly the sexiest thing in the world, listening to me talk about my past.

“Yeah, but I got out here as soon as I could,” I replied, turning the conversation somewhere a little more charming. “Couldn’t wait to get into my career.”

“You always knew you wanted to be an actor?”

“Of course. I loved movies when I was growing up.”

“Me too,” she agreed, a smile creasing her face. “It just felt like an…an escape, you know? My family didn’t have a lot growing up, even before Mom and Dad passed away, and when I sat down to watch something, I just felt like I could unlock a portal to another world. I loved it.”

“Yeah, exactly…”

I was surprised at how well she put it, the exact same way I felt about my childhood and the magical worlds that existed on the other side of the screen, the ones that I’d wanted to vanish into. I had sworn to myself that I would find a way into those worlds, and I’d thrown myself into developing this acting persona to make it happen. Of course, I had actually managed to pull it off, much to the surprise of everyone who had doubted me when I was growing up—but I didn’t keep in touch with them any longer. I was my own man now, and I didn’t owe them a damn thing.

“That’s how my son came to be such a fan of your movies, actually,” she confessed. “We have a movie night together every weekend. He picks one, and then I pick one, and trust me, he always wants to watch something with one of you three in it.”

I chuckled. “He seems sweet,” I replied, glad to be back on some safer ground.

“Oh my God, you should have heard him after he met the three of you,” she giggled, shaking her head fondly. “I think he’s going to be boasting about that for the next ten years, at least. You made his day. No, his year.”

I grinned. I liked to hear that. And liked even more that it seemed to make her so happy in the process too.

We chatted about the movie and the food and the city, sharing stories about our lives here and our experiences working in the industry—I was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed, but I guessed that was what happened when you lifted the weight of wondering what was going to happen at the end of the night from your shoulders. We both already knew we wanted one another, and nothing could change that, no matter how distracted we might be by our conversation.

Soon, though, we’d finished the food, and made a decent dent on the bottle of wine too. I could see that her cheeks were slightly flushed as she trailed her finger around the bottom of the glass, her mind drifting somewhere far from the confines of the conversation we were having right now.

Beneath the table, our knees brushed against each other—I could see the way her body registered it, shifting slightly toward me, her hair falling into her face as she leaned into me.

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