Always an Eaton: Sweet Dreams

“What do you teach?”

“How do you know I’m a teacher?”

Reaching for her hand, he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Today you look and sound like a teacher. Besides, you didn’t deny it. By the way, are you on sabbatical or are you playing hooky?”

Chandra’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile. She knew she had to remain alert with Preston. He probably processed everything she said within seconds. “I’m in between jobs.”

“Come with me to the kitchen. We can talk while I cook.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You write, direct and cook. I’m impressed. What other talents are you hiding?”

Throwing back his head, Preston let loose genuine laughter. He’d found Chandra Eaton cute and very talented. What he hadn’t counted on was that she could make him laugh.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me.”

“Maybe I should ask your girlfriend.”

Preston’s expression changed suddenly. He glared at her under hooded lids. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What about a wife?” Chandra asked. Denise had said Preston was a bachelor, but she needed him to confirm his marital status.

“I also don’t have a wife.”

“Is it because you’re not romantic?” Chandra asked, knowing she was treading into dangerous territory. She really didn’t want to know any more about Preston than what Denise had told her. Whatever she would share with him was to be strictly business.

“Not being romantic has nothing to do with whether I’m married or involved with a woman.”

“Are you a misogynist?”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t look so put out, Preston. I’ve read about a lot of high-profile men who date women, but detest them behind closed doors.”

“Well, I’m not one of those down-low brothers.” He hadn’t lied to Chandra. It had taken many years and countless therapy sessions for him to let go of the enmity between he and his father. “Women should be loved and protected, not physically or emotionally abused.”

“Spoken like a true romantic hero.”

“Give it up, Chandra. It’s not going to work.”

“What’s not going to work?”

“You’re not going to turn me into a romantic hero.”

She wrinkled her nose in a gesture Preston had come to appreciate. “You think not, Preston?”

“I know not, Chandra.”

“We’ll see,” she drawled.

His eyes narrowed. “What are you hatching in that very cute head of yours?”

Chandra ignored his referring to her being cute. “Wait until I develop Pascual’s character and you’re forced to breathe life into what will become a vampire who’s not only sexy but very romantic. You’ll be the one who has to come up with the dialogue whenever he interacts with his romantic lead.”

“We’ll see,” Preston said.

“Have you thought of a name for your new play?”

Taking a step, he dropped Chandra’s hand, pulling her to his chest. Lowering his head and fastening his mouth to the column of her scented neck, Preston pressed a kiss there. He increased the pressure, baring his teeth and stopping short of nipping the delicate flesh.

“Death’s Kiss,” he whispered in her ear.

Chandra turned her head, her mouth inches from Preston’s, breathing in his warm, moist breath. “You can’t kill your heroine, Preston.” Her gaze caressed the outline of his mouth seconds before he kissed her cheek.

“We’ll see, won’t we?” he said, smiling.

“What would I have to do to convince you to include a happy ending?”

“I’ll think of something.”

Bracing her hands against Preston’s chest, Chandra sought to put some distance between them. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Preston winked at her. “Not to worry, Chandra. You’re safe with me.”

Chandra recoiled when his words hit her like a stinging slap. “The last man I was involved with said the very same words to me. But in the end I was left to fend for myself. Thanks, but no thanks, Preston. I can take care of myself.”

“Was he your husband?”

“No. Thank goodness we didn’t get that far. But we were engaged.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Not because I don’t want to. It’s just that I can’t.”

Preston dropped a kiss on her fragrant hair. “Then you don’t have to. Are you ready to eat?” he asked, changing the subject.

“What’s on the menu for brunch?”

Resting a hand at the small of her back, he escorted Chandra toward the kitchen. “You have a choice of fresh fruit, pancakes, waffles, an omelet or bacon, sausage, ham and grits. To drink, there’s herbal tea, regular and hazelnut coffee, orange, grapefruit or cranberry juice. As for cocktails you have a choice between a Bloody Mary and a mimosa.”

“I prefer a mimosa.” Chandra flashed an attractive pout. “I’m really impressed with you, Preston. I’ve never hung out with a guy who could cook.”

Preston gave Chandra a sidelong glance, his gaze lingering on the tumble of hair falling around her face. “I’m no Bobby Flay or Chef Jeff, but I can promise you won’t come down with ptomaine poisoning.”

“I think I’m going to enjoy working with you.”

And I promise not to like you too much, she added silently.

It was what Chandra told herself every time she met a man to whom she felt herself attracted. It’d worked in the past and she was certain it would work with Preston Tucker.