Grace grinned. “I know that girl. I’m guessing she was a knockout.”

Should he lie? “She was easy to look at.”

“And always needed to be told how beautiful she was.”

He nodded. “Very insecure.”

“So what happened?” Grace asked.

“I don’t think this is going to paint me in the right light.”

“Paint it anyway.”

Dameon took a deep breath. “I was bored. We got along well enough in the beginning. As long as we were going to fancy places with fancy people she was happy. If I took her to O’Doul’s, she’d pout and act as if it was beneath her.”

“What’s O’Doul’s?”

“A dive bar close to my place. Great whiskey and the best fish and chips in the city.” He shrugged. “I never once had a desire to take her to meet my mom.”

“Well, you’ve already met Colin. And if I know Matt well enough, he’ll find a reason to show up on your jobsite sooner or later.”

“Is Matt going to bust my balls as much as Colin?”

“Of course,” she said with a grin.

The martinis arrived and Dameon raised his glass. “To new friends.”

Grace touched her glass to his and sipped. “I think we might be a little more than friends.”

He set his glass down. “God, I hope so.”

She sipped her drink again, and he reached out and touched her arm. “Do you have New Year’s Eve plans?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t even given it a thought. Sometimes Matt drags us out to the desert, but he has to work this year.”

“The desert is a thing?”

“Oh, yeah. Big bonfires in freezing weather. Lots of dirt and motorcycles and ATVs. Do you ride?”

“I’m afraid to say I don’t. Do you?”

She nodded. “We grew up out there getting dirty. But I don’t own my own bike anymore.”

“You owned your own motorcycle?” The woman never stopped showing him new sides of herself.

“Yeah. We all did growing up. After my dad took a bad spill, my mom pulled the plug on a lot of the desert trips. Matt and Colin go out more than I do.”

He shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

“Don’t say that to my brothers. They’ll put you through the Evel Knievel course.”

“Especially if they don’t like me.”

“Yeah, we should probably save that activity for later.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted her brothers responsible for teaching him to ride. “So back to New Year’s . . . I’ll pick you up at seven.”

She stared at him, her lips in a flat line. “You’re asking or telling?”

Much as he hated the words, he said them anyway. “I’m asking.”

Those lips of hers lifted into a smile. “You know something, Locke . . . you’re catching on really well.”

“Is that a yes?”

She looked at the ceiling as if the answer was there. “Am I dressing fancy or dive bar?”

“Ladies’ choice is next year. This year we’re going five star.”

Her eyebrows lifted in question. “Someone is optimistic.”

They took their time with their drinks before Dameon paid the bill and drove her the short distance to her home. As he pulled into a parking space, he noticed her starting to fidget.

Before she reached for the door, Dameon took hold of her hand.

Their eyes met and he leaned forward.

As soon as their lips met, she sighed. He couldn’t touch her the way he truly wanted to with a console separating them, but he could tilt her head back and taste her lips with the tip of his tongue.

Her response was her hand tightening on his arm and her kiss matching his.

She was bold in so many ways, but in this, a simple kiss in the front seat of a truck, she seemed to hold herself back ever so slightly. He ended the kiss before his body revealed just what she was doing to him.

When Grace opened her eyes, he could see the dazed look of them in the lights of the parking lot.

“I needed to do that here,” he told her. “Because if I do that at your front door I’d be tempted to stay.”

Her eyes opened wider.

“And I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

“Dameon . . .” She said his name with a sigh.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to wait a little longer.”

She was smiling now. “I’d like that, too.”

And because that was settled, he reached for her again. This time, she kissed him a little harder, a little longer, and she said his name in a throaty whisper that he could get used to hearing over and over again.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Christmas morning, Grace took advantage of the crisp, dry weather and took a walk in an effort to work off the calories the day was going to bestow upon her. She listened to her soundtrack of fast-paced tunes that kept her moving quicker than she normally would.

By the time she walked back in her front door, her phone buzzed with a text from Dameon. She smiled instantly.

Merry Christmas and good morning.

She pulled a water bottle from her fridge and sat at her kitchen counter while texting him back. Good morning and Merry Christmas to you, too.

When will you go to your parents?

I help my mom cook, so I’ll leave here in about an hour. The masses start showing up after eleven. What about you?

I’m leaving at noon and bringing the wine. My contribution to cooking is carving the turkey.

She smiled. A noble task.

I think that was sarcastic.

Would I do that? Grace asked.

The dots on her screen took some time flashing before his reply arrived.

Yes.

A keen observation on your part. I guess that’s why you’re the CEO.

Dameon replied with a laughing emoji.

I’m getting in the shower. Have a wonderful time with your family. Grace held on to her phone and waited for his reply.

You, too.

You would think the short distance from downtown LA to Glendale would take less than thirty minutes.

But the key word is LA. And Los Angeles was known worldwide for its traffic problems. Add a holiday with no typical pattern from which to gauge a timeline and it was a crapshoot as to when you’d arrive.

Dameon arrived thirty minutes later than he’d told his mom he’d be there. Expecting a little bit of flak, he was surprised to walk through the door and hear her laughing.

“Hello?” he called out.

“In the kitchen,” his mom replied.

That’s when he heard a male voice.

Not just any voice.

Tristan.

Dameon wasn’t prepared to spend the holiday with his brother, or any day for that matter. In the last conversation he’d had with his mother, she’d told him Tristan couldn’t make it. Dameon took a fortifying breath and walked around the corner with a smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“Dameon!” his mom exclaimed as if she were surprised to see him.

He placed his armful of bags on the end of the kitchen counter and accepted his mother’s hug. “Sorry I’m late.”

His mom hugged him tight. “Are you late?”

“Traffic.”