Home Matters (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella, Book 1) by Julie N. Ford Page A

flawless complexion and features. Sculpted eyebrows, heavy lidded gaze, straight nose, cleft chin, and small, plump mouth. He looked perfect to her. “That would be—” amazing , she was about to say, but thought it best to dial her enthusiasm down a notch or two to decorous at least. “Great,” she chose instead. “This whole adventure has been such a whirlwind, I’ve hardly had the time to take proper care of myself either.” Another lie. She rarely had the money or time for a day at the spa, but had always wished she could. Did that count?
    William’s eyes softened, turning dark and more mysterious. “It’s a second date then,” he said, leaning in close, his gaze dropping to Olivia’s lips. “I’m having a real hard time not wanting to kiss you right now.”
    Her breath felt heavy in her chest, pressing against her sprinting heart. “Then I don’t see any reason for you to resist,” she accepted, her eyes falling closed.
    Right there in a restaurant crowded with customers, his perfect mouth closed over hers, warm, moist, delicious. The restaurant and its occupants seemed to stretch away, their presence becoming thin, a blurred dream. The kiss started soft, easy, then grew more intense, hungry. William pulled away just shy of passionate. Like someone had sucked out her brain and replaced her intellect with cotton candy, Olivia’s head grew light.
    Leaning closer still, William’s cheek brushed hers. “I have to say, Olivia Pembroke, you are the most uniquely intriguing woman I’ve met in a very long time,” he whispered into her ear. “I’d like to spend more time with you. How ’bout we spend this entire weekend together?”
    A warm feeling consumed her chest, shooting like sparking torrents of electricity to her fingers, her toes. Not like the all-encompassing feeling she’d experienced with Pete earlier, and yet world-rocking all the same. But what was happening between her and William could hardly be compared to whatever she’d felt with Pete. Prior to Pete’s kiss, he’d gotten her fired up with his toxically maniacal nature. No wonder she’d felt a heightened sense of… something. Misinterpreted emotion, she decided. That’s all it could have been. This, the connection she was feeling for William, was real, appropriate, the beginning of something special.
    “I might be agreeable to that.”
    William threw a glance toward the door. “I need to grab a smoke,” he said, his eyes deepening with desire. “What do you say we skip dinner and head back to the hotel?”

“Make sure you roll using even, sweeping movements, keeping each swipe going in the same direction,” Olivia instructed, the camera tracking her, inch by inch, from the heel of her designer boots, up a skin-tight pair of white jeans, and on to a form-fitting tunic. Tiny pops of paint jumped from the roller, dotting her hand and forearm. “And try not to roll over the sections you’ve already painted.”
    Following Gus’s directions to, “Make love to the viewers,” she looked at the camera and imagined it was a generous helping of chocolate cheesecake. “You don’t want roller marks once the wall dries,” she finished with a come-hither smirk.
    “And cut,” Gus called. “That’s a wrap for today. Time for happy hour.” The set lights faded to black, followed by Gus’s guys scrambling to coil up cables and secure the cameras so they could get on with their evening.
    Tristi appeared at Olivia’s side with an uncapped bottle of water. “Good job, boss. And very sexy,” she used a throaty voice, “like soft-porn for the do-it-yourselfer.” Her tone implied she was joking, but Olivia saw the truth in her eyes. To Olivia’s recollection, capitalizing on her beauty in order to give directors and viewers what they wanted had never bothered her before. Yet here, today, she found she resented being treated like an inanimate object instead of a person with dreams and feelings, wants and needs.
    “Right, as if