Page 32 of Promise Not to Fall for the Rich & Famous

Gage hurried over to help her carry the goods. “I live off a lot of frozen stuff to be honest. But I do have my go-to if I want to impress a lady. And that’s polish dogs.”

“Polish dogs?” She tightened her lips, but a bout of laughter burst from them just the same. “That can’t be your thing.” She motioned for Gage to follow her up to the loft. He’d been so consumed by Carly that he’d hardly paid any attention to the design of the bungalow. Funny, since he’d been wanting to see them from the inside since he’d arrived.

“Why can’t that be my thing?” he griped.

Carly tipped her head back as she laughed some more. “Because that doesn’t require any cooking.”

“Sure it does. I grill them.”

The twist of her full, kissable lips said she was considering that. “Huh. Still…”

“No, really. I steam the buns too so they’re soft and warm.”

The laughter stilled. Her brows lifted.

“AndI serve them up with these sautéed onions. It’s amazing.”

There came that mischievous twinkle in her eye. “This is the part where you tell me I have to come over and try them myself. And while I’m there I can get the flower you bought for me.”

He held her gaze, loving the light in her eyes. The addictive thrill of having her near. “Right.” He grinned. Dang, he liked this woman. Was falling in love with her, really. “You can come to my place next. How’s tomorrow?”

Carly tapped her chin. “I’ll have to check my schedule. Think I’ve got thisbig namestudent lined up. Guess he’s going to skip off into the world of movie stars and Hollywood lights and forget all about me.”

Gage nearly tripped on the comment. “Never,” he said in a low growl. “You would never catch the one and only Gage Cravenskipping.” He’d tried to say it calmly, playfully, but inside his pulse had spiked to a fever pitch. It’s what he’d feared during his walk there; the idea that Carly was worried over losing him due to the upcoming movie role. “

“Yeah, yeah.” She shook her head, tugged open a glass door in the loft and stepped onto a small, covered deck.

Gage followed her to a round table and patio chairs. Carly flicked a switch, and a gas-burning fire kicked on amidst a bed of small, black rocks. He stared at the flames while tearing open the package of marshmallows. He’d known the next thing he planned to ask a second ago, but Carly’s comment had thrown him off.

He looked over the dancing flames of orange and gold, watched as she slowly tore the paper off the chocolate bar, contemplation etched on her face. She needed reassurance, he could tell. And Gage wanted to give it to her. He couldn’t have her shutting herself off to him because she thought he was out of reach in some way.

“Musical instruments,” he blurted. “Did you ever play any?”

That caused a grin to form at her lips. “Ah, yes, but I was bad.”

Gage grinned. “What was it?”

“The flute,” she said with a groan. “I thought it would be easy. Doesn’t it look like an easy one to play?”

He considered that. “Not to me.”

She laughed out loud and smacked his arm. “Well, it did to me. Let me guess, you played the guitar.”

“Got it,” he said with a nod.

“What about day to day, growing up?” she asked. “Did you have maids and cooks and nannies, like I imagine you did?” He liked the intrigue he saw in her wide eyes as she asked.

He grinned. “Yep. All three. Is that weird to you?”

“Very. Did you still have to clean your own room?”

He liked that question. “Yes. Beau and I cleaned our own rooms.”

“Good thing,” she said. “Can’t have your wife picking up after you her whole life.”

He chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t admit that I hire a cleaning service to clean my entire penthouse then?”

“You’re kidding.”