“No problem. My mom had breast cancer years ago, so I can only imagine what those children are going through. It has to be utterly scary for them.”
A heaviness settled in his chest at her words. “It is scary. I’ve been in their shoes. I had leukemia as a child.”
A sadness washed over her features. “Oh... I had no idea,” Blythe said emphatically. “No wonder you do so much for the children’s hospital.”
“Yeah, I was in and out for four years.” He stopped when he noticed she still frowned. “Hey, don’t look so sad.” He comforted her with a smile and pinched her chin. “I’m alive and in amazing health...and quite handsome, may I add.” He noticed her expression didn’t change even with the joke.
“It just took me by surprise. I didn’t know.”
“It’s one of the reasons I live each day like it’s my last... Well, I’m not a daredevil. I do love my life. Plus, my mother would kill me if I died while swimming with sharks or something insane like that.”
“I thought Tiffani said you go skydiving every birthday.”
He shrugged. “That’s not extreme.” His eyes landed on a blue storage crate marked Lights sitting on a nearby chair in the lobby area. “Are you going to hang the lights now?”
“I have two paint parties tonight I need to prepare for, and one of my assistants is on vacation. I’ll have to do it once I’m closed. I need to have it done before the children arrive in the morning. That way all they have to do is hang the ornaments.”
“Nonsense. You don’t close until ten. I’ll do it for you.” Strolling over to the crate, he lifted the lid and saw the lights neatly coiled around a huge hook.
“You don’t have to do that. You brought that heavy tree inside for me. I’d still be wrestling with it if it wasn’t for you.” Her eyebrows raised in an amused manner. “Besides, it’s a Friday night. I’m sure you have plans, Mr. Party All the Time.”
“I kinda do, but it’s no biggie. This won’t take long. You just concentrate on setting up for the parties. I’m going to run back to the bakery to grab my box of goodies before Tiffani leaves.”
“But...” Blythe shook her head while trying to suppress a smile. “You really don’t have to.”
He walked over to the door and opened it. He could’ve sworn he read more into her expression and demeanor. Preston knew a woman’s body language. While Blythe had always remained firm and unbothered by him, he wasn’t so sure that was the case at the present moment. Now curiosity had him questioning why.
Glancing at her over his shoulder, he cracked a grin at the thought of perhaps winning her over after all. “No worries. I got you.”
* * *
No worries? The comment had played on repeat in her head for the last ten minutes. How could she not worry when the irresistible Preston Chase graced her lobby, hanging lights on the tree? Blythe walked around the stations, setting a smock on the back of each chair as she heard the giggles of a few ladies walking past in the hallway to the other room, where her assistant Mandi was about to begin class. She also heard catcalls, whistles and “Damn, he’s fine.” Women were even going back for a second peek at the man who was probably enjoying every moment of their attention.
Prez was a mouthwatering, gorgeous hunk of a man. His broad shoulders, muscular build and, she guessed, six-foot-two height were definitely enough to drive any woman crazy with lust when first laying eyes on him. Not to mention his infectious smile showcasing pearly white, immaculate teeth, smooth butterscotch skin and his silky, curly hair that she sometimes hated to admit that she would love to weave her fingers through. And then there were his lips. Succulent. Sexy. She’d never paid much attention to a man’s lips like this before, but there was something about the curve and subtle plumpness of them that made her want to draw them...with her tongue.
Blythe’s thoughts drifted to when she’d first met him a year ago at a paint party her new friend and now best friend had arranged for a family outing. Blythe was aware that Tiffani’s brother was the creator of the famous Dart and Drive video game that had amassed almost half a billion dollars, followed by more popular games. However, she expected a geeky, dorky, nerdy kind of guy with glasses, pants too short and a lisp, for some reason. Tiffani had mentioned that women practically threw themselves at her brother, but Blythe figured it was because he was worth millions. But when she entered the room to begin the party, she had to hold back a gulp and keep her gaze elsewhere. The man exuded a sexiness and confidence on a level that could break the Richter scale and a voice as smooth as caramel. It became worse when he’d roamed his eyes over her and started to flirt; however, she’d managed to remain composed and withstand the temptation to give in to him. His suave manner, good looks and intelligent charm could surely win over any woman’s heart, including hers if she wasn’t careful.
So why did Blythe keep blowing him off every time he flirted or paid her a compliment? Simple. She’d dated his type before. The player. The woman juggler. The pretty boy type that women sometimes fought over. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy. He loved his family, was overprotective of his sister and her son, KJ, and had a soft spot for the children at the hospital where he volunteered. He was an intellectual and even possessed a tad of nerdiness that she found sexy in a confident man like him. But none of that changed the fact that he was a notorious player.
Once the stations were completed, Blythe had about twenty minutes before the women’s group at a church not far from the studio was to arrive. Sighing, she contemplated either staying in the classroom and waiting or venturing back out into the lobby area to greet her class as she always did. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention as a chill ran through her body. She’d thought it was Preston. However, it was her receptionist, Ms. Bernice, standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her ample bosom. The sixty-year-old woman had a slight, curious smile displayed on her face, and her glasses hung down on her nose, her eyes peering over.
“Hey. Didn’t know you were here,” Blythe said, heading over to her work area and sliding a smock over her sweater.
“Just came back from my dinner break. I see you bought a tree. Did the handsome man come with it? Perhaps I need to go buy a few trees myself,” she teased, running her hands through her gray curls.
“Nooo. That’s Tiffani’s brother, Preston. He saw me struggling with it and offered to help bring it inside.”
Ms. Bernice slowly nodded her head. “Oh, I know who he is. I’m just surprised to see him here. You’re always brushing that fine young man off. If I was only thirty... I mean, twenty years younger...”
Blythe laughed. “Yeah, you’d be a part of his flock of women. No thank you.”
Ms. Bernice turned around to leave but pivoted back. “You only get played by a man if you allow him to do it. Your group is starting to arrive, but they’re chatting in the lobby and ogling Mr. Chase. Shall I send them back?”
“No need. I’ll be out in a moment. Just want to make sure everything is ready for them.”
Ms. Bernice’s stare perused the ten stations set up in the middle of the room. “Seems like everything is in place.” And with that, she finally left.
Moments later, Blythe headed to the lobby to find the lights on the tree and Preston chatting with two women while looking at a cell phone. I guess he’s getting their numbers, she thought as she nodded at him and then strolled to the lit Christmas tree. But she was mistaken. Instead, it seemed like he was showing them how to download one of his free video game apps to their phones. The ladies gave him a sexy, sultry thank-you and followed Ms. Bernice down the hall.
“Hey, whatcha think of my light hanging skills?” he inquired, standing next to her.
His masculine, woodsy cologne caressed her nose in an erotic, sensual way, and she stepped up to the tree to straighten a light that wasn’t crooked.
“You