Page 8 of His Temptation
“What are your plans now that you’re graduated?” I asked. “Are you going to college?”
Ryan had received a baseball scholarship and would be starting school in the fall, but I didn’t know if Cason planned to do the same. It wasn’t as though they came over to my house enough for metoknow.
“Yes, sir,” he answered, polite as ever. “I think I’m gonna go for a criminal justice major.”
Cason impressed me. I’d never met another eighteen-year-old who had such a good head on his shoulders. We’d spoken in the past but never like this, one-on-one and so… casual.
I met his eyes, a beautiful shade of brown, and quickly looked away.
“Would you like some eggs?” I asked, standing from the stool and going over to the refrigerator.
“I’m all right. No need to go out of your way for me.”
“It’s the least I can do after you babysat Ryan last night,” I responded, grabbing the carton of eggs and butter before finding a skillet.
Cason laughed. “It wasn’t a problem. Wasn’t like I wanted to drink anyway.”
“Why not?” Having drank a lot while underage and partied hard in high school, I was no saint. I knew how kids were.
“Not much of a drinker,” Cason answered with a shrug.
As I made us breakfast, a silence passed between us. I knew a bit about Cason but not enough to hold a conversation for long. I could alwaysgetto know him, however, I was afraid it would seem strange to him.
Because it would be,I told myself as I scooped scrambled eggs onto a plate and handed it to him.Better to keep him at a distance.
Once the toast popped up, I put the slices on another plate and brought it over to the island, along with grape jelly.
“Thank you, Mr. Cross,” he said, staring at the food with what I could only describe as a sad expression. Then he smiled and lifted his gaze to mine. “It looks great.”
It was only eggs and toast. Nothing fancy. There wasn’t even bacon or sausage to make it a proper breakfast. Yet, he acted like it was a big deal. The genuine gratitude he conveyed hit me square in the chest.
“You’re welcome.” I refilled both of our cups with coffee before walking toward the archway that led out of the kitchen.
“You’re not eating?” Cason asked.
I stopped and glanced back at him. Even with his strong masculinity, he radiated innocence. It was the one word I felt described him better than any other: innocent. A vast difference from me.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, turning away from him. “Leave the dishes when you’re done. I’ll take care of them.”
Before I could change my mind, I went to my home office and shut the door. I opened the file on my desk and looked it over, but my attention was on the brunet sitting in my kitchen. After a few minutes, I heard the sink running along with the clanking of dishes. He cleaned up even after I told him I would do it later. It said a lot about his character.
And my attraction toward him said a lot about mine.
I ran my hands over my face and deeply inhaled before releasing the breath. I couldn’t even use lack of sex as an excuse for my desire for Cason. I frequently met men for one-night stands, but something about Cason and his soft brown eyes drew me in like no other.
“Stop,” I told myself again.
Around nine, I heard the front door open and close, followed by the rumbling of an engine. Cason was leaving. I could breathe easier now. The temptation was out of my reach. I worked for another hour before leaving my office for food.
“Where’s Cas?” Ryan asked, shuffling into the kitchen with tousled dark hair and pink eyes. I knew a hangover when I saw one.
“He left about an hour ago. You want me to make you breakfast?”
“Nah,” Ryan said, curling his nose. “Can’t really handle food right now.”
I poured him a glass of water and handed him some Tylenol. “Take that for your head.”
“You don’t have to baby me,” he snapped before popping the pills into his mouth and downing half the glass.
