Page 25 of The House Guest
“I can’t remember the last time anyone baked for me,” I said with my mouth full. “I most definitely wouldn’t have imagined that the person to break the chain would be you.”
“Because of the way I was the night you met me?”
I nodded. “You’re supposed to be an elusive billionaire, not Betty Crocker.”
He covered his full mouth as he laughed. “And you were supposed to be a slightly odd, crop-top-wearing monkey artist.” He paused. “Well, youarethose things, but in a good way. You’re also someone I quite like spending time with.”
I felt my face heat as I licked sticky apple off my lips. “I find myself enjoying your company, too, Dorian, which is interesting considering I feared the idea of you for so long.”
“Well, I’m glad you don’t fear me anymore.”
“You haven’t given me a reason to—yet. Doesn’t seem like the dogs fear you, either. I haven’t heard them barking lately.”
“Hard to fear someone you’ve been sleeping with.”
I stopped chewing. “Sleeping?”
Dorian shrugged. “I came home one night to find them in my bed. It was late, and I was too damn tired to kick them out. So I got under the covers and accepted that they were there. Now they won’t leave me alone.”
Laughing, I pointed my fork at him. “Let that be a lesson to be careful about the mixed messages you give women.”
He licked the corner of his mouth. “Wanna know the strangething?”
“What?”
“I’ve actually come to depend on their snoring to help me sleep.”
“Your dad would be proud.”
“Probably the only thing he’d be proud about.”
“I highly doubt that. You seem to be doing everything you can to make him proud.”
He shook his head. “He always found reasons to criticize me. My father and I had a very difficult relationship. Things might’ve been easier if I’d had siblings. At least some of his attention would’ve been dispersed among us. Being his heir apparent wasn’t a responsibility I signed up for. There are a lot of people who think I should be grateful for the empire he built. But it comes with a lot of headaches.”
“Don’t you have the option to sell the business and just live your life?”
He let out a long breath. “That’s easier said than done. The need to please him doesn’t just end because he’s not physically here anymore. I’d feel a lot of guilt for throwing away everything he built. Not sure I could live with myself. I’m better off trying to figure out a way to put my own stamp on things while keeping it going, even if it kills me.”
“I hope itdoesn’tkill you.” I frowned. “Stress is no joke.”
“I know,” he said with a sigh.
“You’re brave for taking it on when you could’ve walked away.”
“A less-than-perfect life is better than no life at all. I’ve tried to just be grateful to be alive since they died. To pause and appreciate the little things.”
“Like apple crisp late at night in the theater.”
He smiled. “Like an unexpected connection with a mysterious artist.”
That gave me chills. “You find me mysterious?”
“I do. You haven’t shared too much about yourself. You come across as this carefree, creative, and caring person. While you appear to be an open book at first glance, you haven’t offered me too much about your life before you came here.”
I sighed. “The truth might not match up with your preconceived notions.”
“That’s okay.” He set his plate on an adjacent chair. “I want to know anyway.” He reached for my empty plate and set it atop his. He looked into my eyes, waiting for me to speak.
