Page 27 of Just The Way You Aren’t (Last Billionaire Standing #1)

"Bella's?" I try to sound casual, though I'm already wondering if they have anything under three hundred dollars. Which would still be stretching it for my meager budget. "I'll check it out. "

"If you decide to go, you can mention I suggested it. The staff knows me. They might be able to help you find something you like."

"That's really kind of you, Damien. I appreciate the recommendation." His thoughtfulness catches me off guard. He's actually worried about me feeling confident Thursday night. It makes my chest warm and my heart sink at the same time. Because Thursday night marks the end of our deal, doesn't it?

After the fundraiser succeeds, he goes back to his regular life, and I go back to mine. No more interrupting his perfectly scheduled days. No more burgers together at Billy’s. No more... us.

"You okay?" he asks, studying my face.

"Perfect," I reply, forcing brightness back into my voice. "Just thinking about everything we need to wrap up before Thursday."

"The guest list is looking strong," he says. "I think it's going to be a great success."

"It better be," I laugh, "after all the work you've put into making it happen."

"We've put into it," he corrects, reaching across to squeeze my hand.

We. The word feels both natural and temporary, and I can't decide which feeling wins.

Damien and I eat in hungry silence for a bit, then start talking once more over the last of our French fries. We rehash the day and find ourselves laughing all over again.

Finally, there are no fries left, the malts are gone, and it’s just the two of us staring across the table at each other. I see something again in Damien’s eyes and it makes my breath catch. “What do you want to do after this?” I ask huskily .

“Hopefully, the same thing you want to do,” he replies without a single pause. “Back at your place?”

I swear his gaze is hotter than the molten cheese on Billy’s burgers.

As far as romantic settings go, senior bingo night followed by an obscene amount of junk food is a far cry from what Damien must be used to, but it seems to be working for him.

It’s working for me, too. Every fiber of my being is thrumming with desire for him.

I nod. Swallow hard. “Yeah, that sounds… great. My place.”

His mouth curves in a sexy smile that makes me want to jump him right here in our booth. “Let’s get out here.”

The short drive to my apartment feels like it takes forever. Damien's hand rests high on my thigh, his fingers warm through the thin fabric of my skirt. Each time he makes a turn, his grip tightens slightly, sending electricity up my spine.

I steal glances at his profile as he drives.

His face is relaxed but focused, so different from the rigid, schedule-obsessed man I first met.

Today I've watched him call bingo numbers, help seniors with their cards, and devour a messy burger with genuine enjoyment.

It's like seeing a completely different side of him—a side I'm not sure many people get to see.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, catching me staring.

"You," I admit, feeling unexpectedly shy. "Today was... nice."

His hand squeezes my thigh gently. "It was."

There's something in his voice that makes my heart race faster than his touch. After what happened the morning after our first night together, I should be more cautious. But today has felt different— he's felt different. More present. More real.

"I never thought I'd see Damien Langley, billionaire CEO, calling bingo numbers and buying Echo Dots for seniors," I say, trying to keep my voice light despite the storm of butterflies in my stomach.

He glances at me, his eyes warm. "I never thought I'd enjoy doing it.

" The corner of his mouth quirks into a sexy half-grin.

"Although I have to admit, there were a few moments when I nearly feared for my life up there. You weren’t joking when you said those seniors take their bingo very seriously. "

I laugh, but inside I'm melting at the idea that I'm one of the few people who gets to see this side of him. Whether this is just another night together or something more, I want to savor every minute of it.

When we reach my building, he parks and instead of reaching for the door handle, he turns to me.

The streetlight outside the car casts shadows across his face, making his eyes look deeper, darker.

His gaze drops to my mouth, and all the anticipation I've been feeling crystalizes into a hot, liquid need.

"I've been wanting to do this all day," he murmurs, leaning across the console to capture my lips with his.

The kiss is different from our heated exchange in his foyer. It's slow, deliberate, a promise of what's to come. I sink into it, my fingers finding their way to the back of his neck, feeling the soft hair at his nape as his tongue tangles with mine.

When we pull apart, we're both breathing harder. "Let's go inside," I whisper.

His sensual, hungry smile makes me throb with anticipation. "Lead the way."

We make it up the stairs to my floor in record time, my fingers fumbling with the keys as I try to get the door open.

All I can think about is getting him inside, getting his hands on me, picking up where we left off that night at his place.

But this time feels different. The air around us is charged with something more than just physical attraction.

When I finally get the lock to turn, I push the door open, ready to drag him to my bedroom—only to be nearly bowled over as Tiny smacks right into my legs, his empty food bowl clenched in his mouth.

Spike trots up behind him and, before I can even shout a warning, does an unmistakable leg lift directly over Damien's expensive shoe.

"Spike, no—!" I gasp, but it's too late. My little incontinent angel has christened what must be a thousand-dollar loafer.

I brace myself for Damien's reaction, an apology already forming on my lips, but instead of the disgust I expect, he laughs. "Well, that's one way to mark your territory," he says, toeing off his shoes and stepping around the small puddle. "I think Spike and I need to have a talk about boundaries."

"I'm so sorry," I tell him, gesturing him inside while I hurriedly clean up Spike’s mess, all the while trying to keep Tiny from bowling us over in his quest for dinner.

The apartment is in its usual state of cheerful chaos.

Rufus and Mingo have somehow gotten into the kitty litter, spreading it across the floor like tiny sand dunes.

A chunk of couch cushion is mysteriously missing, and I silently pray that it hasn't become an impromptu meal for one of my furry roommates.

I’ve gotten used to living with my ragtag menagerie, but I can only imagine what Damien must be thinking. After washing my hands, I come back out to the living room where he waits. I glance at him, unable to hold back my groan. “Welcome to my glamorous life. ”

Damien chuckles, then he pulls me into his arms, his mouth capturing mine in a searing kiss.

"Take care of your troops," he says, catching me around the waist and pressing a warm kiss to my neck. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You sure? There's still time to run for your life," I joke, only half-kidding.

He lifts my chin on the edge of his hand, his eyes serious despite his smile. "Willow Harper, it would take a lot more than pet chaos to scare me away from you right now."

I bite my lip, a sudden torrent of butterflies swirling in my belly as I take a small, reluctant step away from him. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

I swear, I've never filled food bowls so quickly in my life.

Water bubbler topped off, kibble distributed, all while Damien watches from the doorway with an amused smile playing on his lips.

When all four pets are happily munching, I turn to find Damien still leaning against the doorframe, watching me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

"Just admiring the view," he says, closing the distance between us. His hands settle on my hips, drawing me against him. "I never imagined watching a woman look after a herd of unruly animals would be a turn-on, but spending time with you has been one surprise after another."

I look up at him, flooded with a heady mix of amusement and lust. "Why, Mr. Langley, are you saying I’m broadening your horizons?"

"I'm saying, Ms. Harper," he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple, "that I find you incredibly refreshing." His fingers trace the curve of my waist. "And sexy as hell."

"Sexy, huh?" I loop my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. "Even with cat litter on my floor and a chewed-up couch?"

"Even then." He captures my mouth again, the kiss deeper, hungrier. "Though I do have to ask—is there any part of your furniture your pets haven't destroyed?"

I laugh against his lips. "My bed's still intact. Mostly."

"That's convenient," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "Since that's exactly where I was planning to take you."

A shiver of anticipation runs through me at his words. "Were you now?"

“Mm-hm.” His hands slide lower, cupping my ass and pulling me tighter against him. The hard length of him presses against my stomach, and my breath catches. "Unless you had other plans?"

"Nope. Bed sounds perfect." I take his hand, walking backward toward my bedroom. "Fair warning though—the sheets probably have dog hair on them."

He follows, his eyes smoldering and never leaving mine. "I think I can handle it."

"And there might be a cat hiding under the bed."

"Willow," he says with feigned exasperation, "are you trying to talk me out of sleeping with you?"

I grin up at him. "Just setting realistic expectations."