Page 13 of The Naughty List

“Your father and Oliver are going to play chess in the lounge, and

Erin and I are going to pretend to watch them but just gossip and talk about our holiday party tomorrow night. Care to join us?” My mom loops her arm through Erin’s elbow.

“In a bit, Mom, but I promised Damon I’d give him a tour of the house. Show off all the amazing Christmas decorations.” I give her a smile and a kiss on the cheek as she follows my dad and Oliver down the hall toward the lounge.

Dinner was a shit show. The food was outstanding and the wine flowed a little too freely, but I owe Damon an apology or at least an explanation for what my family said about him.

We walk into the great room where my mom’s signature fourteen-foot-tall spruce is immaculately decorated in shades of gold and silver with the perfect touches of red and green.

“This looks professionally done,” Damon says as he walks around the tree.

“That’s because it is.” There’s a garland decorated with a red velvet ribbon and twinkle lights throughout it wrapped around both of the banisters and the balcony of the landing. There are also two massive wreaths on either side of the tree, each above a mirror.

“Hey, I owe you an apology about dinner,” I start as I walk over to where Damon stands admiring the tree.

“Nah, honestly they could have said a lot worse and they wouldn’t have been wrong,” he says, slipping his hands into his dark-gray dress pants. The motion causes them to tighten against his taut ass and images of his naked backside pop into my head. I shake my head as if it will make the thought disappear.

“I, uh—” I laugh and nervously cross and uncross my arms. “I know we haven’t always been friendly or even nice to each other but, ugh, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” I’m flustered and he can see it; he gives me a warm smile before reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear again. Something about that movement is so simple yet intimate.

“Just say whatever you feel, Kate. I’ll listen.”

“I obviously complained about you a lot to my family, well, not a lot, but I told them a few stories. I know it hasn’t been all you. I can be moody and difficult and instead of telling you when something is hurtful or rude, I snap back and clearly it never resolves anything.” I stare back at him, wanting him to say something but also worried he’ll ruin my attempt at an apology with a snarky-ass remark.

“I understand and I’m sorry I made you cry. I’m sorry for so much more too.” He looks at me like he’s sincere and I feel like I can see regret in his eyes.

“So what is this, like a clean slate or something?” I poke him in the side and he laughs, a deep rumble that fades into a smirk. There it is again, that tension between us. I don’t want to ruin the moment so I turn to face one of the large mirrors and stare at my reflection.

“It’s a shame it’s all fake; we do make a damn good-looking couple.” He sidles up behind me, placing one hand on my waist as the other pulls my hair off my shoulder. I watch in the mirror as his eyes follow his hand movements, settling on my neck for a moment before meeting my gaze in the mirror.

“Cut it out, lovebirds. Dad wants you to play him in a game of chess, Kate.” Our moment is interrupted by Oliver walking around the tree. “Damon, I’ve got some single malt scotch with our name on it.” He gestures with his hand for Damon to follow him. I give him a nervous shrug as I walk toward the lounge to find my dad.

* * *

“My parents always made me feel like I was going to fail when I dropped out of college and moved to Chicago,” I say into the darkness of my bedroom.

“Why?” Damon asks from the floor.

After losing in chess to my dad, I decided to head up to bed a little early. Damon was still sipping scotch with Oliver while they played pool. I stopped by the game room to say good night but changed my mind at the last minute, instead just sending a text to Damon to let him know I’d retired for the evening.

I’ve been lying in bed for the past two hours, trying to fall asleep, but I can’t. My mind won’t let me. I’ve been trying to rationalize my feelings for Damon, not just the attraction but the genuine interest I’ve started to develop for him. It made me do a postmortem on my relationship with Chad and try to resolve if I should let it go or tell my parents how he hurt me. And now, the question that Damon asked me earlier about why I didn’t ask my parents for help has been rolling around in my head.

“They wanted me to come back to my small town and work at my dad’s company and find some guy to marry who would also work for my dad. I just didn’t have that academic bug like Oliver did; he flew through school like it was nothing, getting his undergrad and two masters in the time it takes most of us to just figure out what we want to study.” I stare up at the ceiling, Damon not saying anything else. I don’t know what comes over me but I can’t seem to stop talking.

“Every time I talked to them on the phone they’d tell me that my bedroom hadn’t changed and I could always come home. I know it sounds like something normal parents should offer, but it wasn’t because I said I was struggling or needed help; in fact, I was excited about my new life in the city. They weren’t interested in hearing what I wanted to do, what was going on in my life—they just wanted me to move back home and take the safe route. So when I met Chad, who was a little older and established and rich, they were elated. They loved him and always said we were perfect together. They were just happy some guy was there to pick up the pieces of my messy life and pay for it. I think to them, Chad was my redemption so when I ended it with him, they took it personally as well. I think to them, I was once again throwing my life away because I was choosing happiness over security and that’s just something my family cannot understand.” A tear forms at the corner of my eye and I don’t resist it; I let it fall. “I hate feeling sorry for myself.” I sniff. “I know I come from wealth and privilege and I sound like I’m complaining that my gold shoes are too tight, but that’s why I didn’t ask them to help me with my car. I want to do it on my own. I want to pursue my dreams and be happy for me, even if that means I have to struggle.”

The room is so silent, just the sound of my sniffles here and there. Damon doesn’t say anything; instead, he just reaches his hand up on my bed until he finds mine. He holds it like he knows that I just need someone to listen and while it feels amazing to be heard, it causes my heart to ache because I know it’s all an illusion and will disappear like a vapor once we return to work.

The next morning we sleep in, taking our time to get coffee and eat breakfast with my family. It’s nearing four and my mom has officially moved into panic mode as guests for her annual Flowers family holiday party are about to start arriving. Damon and I managed to escape back up to my room to get ready and avoid most of the hysteria.

“You ready for this?” I ask as I brush some bronzer onto my cheeks.

“Yeah, I think so. How bad can it be?” Damon asks as he adds the finishing touches to his already perfectly styled hair. It was weird but Damon’s hair was the first thing I noticed about him; it’s thick, black, and so shiny. When he lets it grow a little longer, like it is now, his curls come through, sometimes casually falling over one eye. He looks over at me and I absentmindedly reach up and run my hand through the front to get the curl effect I like. He smiles at me and I smile back, the moment feeling so natural between us.

“So what did you and Oliver talk about last night? You guys were gone for like three hours.” I try to sound casual but it’s been eating at me since last night.

“Just typical guy stuff. Talked business, the markets, how he’s getting ready for fatherhood.” He steps out of the bathroom, returning a few moments later. “How does this look for a party?”

I almost choke as I give him a once-over. Hot damn, he looks good! He’s wearing a black velvet suit coat with satin lapels over a crisp white shirt and a gold and black bow tie. His dress pants have a velvet tuxedo stripe down the side to match the coat.

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