Flames Of Seduction- Book 1

Chapter Thirty

Wrapping the towel, I walk out of his bedroom, with this feeling that I can't wait for his surprise, whatever that might be. I can't tell if the surprise he has for us is going to astonish us, but I know enough, it has something to do with our relationship, obviously.

The closet in our bedroom is still full of clothes and even more, the thought has me if he had ordered in more or not. Finding a white hot pants and stride bow back peplum top matched with black almond toed flats. Knowing choosing underwear is not easy, but since wherever we are heading, I know there would be no underwear on the way back, I grab a simple brief panties and bullet bra. My guts are telling me I should take one more extra pair, just in case if he gets wild.

Just a touch of the blow-dryer and turning my hair into a messy bun, I get so ready for the hot weather of California to hit me in the face. Honestly, the weather is like standing in one-inch distance barbecue.

When I walk down the stairs and turn right to head toward the kitchen, Andrew is already sitting on a bar stool behind the island counter, having his coffee and mine ready with some plates and already going through his phone, how does he manage them all? I'm sure if you work as fast as possible you will not get to this point. Blah, this man is so confusing.

"Hmm, somebody made my favorite breakfast," I compliment the dish of pancakes and strawberries before me, next to them, I can see scrambled eggs and fresh toasts.

"That somebody took notice of what their girl eats and just ordered them,"

"Oh, so you are saying you didn't make this? Huh, I was wondering if you have become a superman or something," the secret has spilled; now I shouldn't be so self-esteem about me, this man is no extraordinary.

"You always seem to get the wrong story around, Laura," he says, not looking at me, just staring blanking straight forward. I stuff some bites of pancakes.

"What are you talking about?"

"You always think of the best situation, always so optimistic. What is it with you thinking of me the best way possible, I'm not good, can't you see?"

That is the problem, apparently. Continuously, in several times, he warned me, telling me that he's not perfect and he has flaws, yet with all said I always fail to understand what he means, I always ignore the facts that he might be right and decide to go against logics. That nobody is perfect, is true, yet no one is that imperfect. Everyone has a price for themselves.

"Why do think so low of yourself, Andrew? What is it with you thinking low of yourself, you are a good man, only you can't see it in yourself?"

"Yeah, only if you knew," he snorts, "I'm not Prince Charming, baby, I'm the Beasts, I'm not the Superman, I'm the Joker," for as serious he is, I can't stop my laughter at bay and I explode.

Letting out a laugh, I get him off guard. The tension of our last serious conversation has long gone with me cracked up with laughter. I don't have time to look at him, but I can sense his serious gaze at me.

Thinking of him being the Beast is good enough to not get things messed up, but at the word of the Joker, I can't keep it in me, the image of him with ruined makeup is priceless. See, when I say this man can be so unexpected, I mean it, he can be so serious or furiously deceptive. I can read his eyes, his thoughts, he's so unbelievable.

"Ok, maybe the Beast, but definitely not a Joker," even mentioning the name of the joker the laughter comes itself. "But why the Beast? Do I look like Bell to you?"

"Well, yes, but that is if you are a Blondie and you have died your hair,"

"Oh no, they are truly natural and I have them for being that way," he takes the cup of coffee out of my hand and places it on the counter before standing up,