by Jane Henry
With a resigned sigh, Heidi asked, "What do you want to know?"
"Well, first things first. Drink your coffee," Hillary commanded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and nudging the coffee cup closer to Heidi. "I figured mom would have you drinking that crappy green tea."
The coffee was barely warm, but it was not crappy green tea. Heidi took a grateful sip, feeling her taste buds explode from the combination of vanilla flavoring and sugar. Her mother's insistence on eating vegan, sustainable foods free of sugar and preservatives at least had the side benefit of ensuring that Heidi wasn't tempted to overindulge during her visits. Sticking to a 1200-calorie-a-day diet was positively easy when she spent time at her mother's house.
"Okay, now…" Hillary continued, with an expression on her face that said Christmas had come early, as far as she was concerned. "What does this mystery man look like?"
"Well…" Heidi lifted the coffee cup to hide the smile that instinctively sprang to her lips. It was important that Hillary not get the wrong idea. "He's medium height… ah… medium build… um… he shaves his head…" She trailed off and shrugged, as though she hadn't cataloged every one of Dom's features and replayed them all in her head, over and over, from his electric green eyes, to his lean, muscular arms, and even the way his bare feet had looked when he'd bent down to pet Princess…
God, she had it bad.
Hillary looked disappointed at Heidi's casual assessment, but she rallied.
"Okay, so… how did you meet?"
"He lives next door," Heidi answered innocently. "I pulled my back at the gym and he helped me home, and we exchanged numbers, just in case I needed anything." Heidi indicated the cell phone Hillary still clutched.
"He's just… a nice guy!" Heidi finished, trying not to laugh at Hillary's pout.
"Who's a nice guy?" Frances asked, as she walked into the kitchen with an enormous cardboard box and set it on the counter with a rattle.
Heidi sighed. Perfect.
"My next door neighbor," Heidi said quickly, figuring that the fewer details she gave her mother, the less ammunition she'd have.
Hillary, the traitor, clearly did not agree.
"She's been texting him," Hillary confided. "Flirty texts."
Heidi shot Hillary a look of disbelief.
"They're not flirty. I hurt my back the other day and he just texted to ask how I was feeling," Heidi lied, shooting her sister a warning glare, daring her to reveal more.
Hillary pressed her lips together and said nothing.
"Hmmm…" their mother said, glancing warily from Heidi to Hillary. "Be careful, sweetie. You know how men try to take advantage when they think a girl is weak. Give them an inch—a millimeter—and they'll try to control your every move."
"I know, Mom," Heidi said wearily.
"There was a time," their mother continued, resting her hands atop the box and staring blankly out the window, "when I thought your father was just a nice guy. Once he got me where he wanted me, he forgot that I existed, as long as I cleaned his house and cooked his dinner. Like I wasn't a human being! Like I didn't have my own dreams and plans..."
Heidi narrowed her eyes at Hillary in a silent message. Thanks a bunch. Now you've got her started.
Hillary's mouth twisted in a silent reply. Shit. Sorry.
"And just look how that ended," Frances continued. "The minute I tried to have a life outside of his home, his hobbies, his career, he showed his true colors!"
"Mom, I was just teasing Heidi," Hillary interrupted, standing up from the table and going to put her arm around their mother's shoulders. "Don't get all worked up. "
And then, before their mother could protest, Hillary steered her toward the garage. "Why don't you show me those new candles you're working on for the summer?" she said with credible enthusiasm.
When their mother had stepped into the garage, Hillary ducked back and slid something onto the table in front of Heidi. Her phone! She'd almost forgotten!
"I flipped it to silent," Hillary said quickly, glancing towards the garage. "But it's been vibrating in my hand for the past five minutes. Your friend must be dying to know about your back… Babe."
"Hillie?" their mother called.
"Coming, Mom!"
And with a wink and a smile that was just a little too knowing, Hillary jogged back to the garage, leaving Heidi with the phone… and a knot in her stomach that wasn't from anticipation. She glanced at the screen and saw that she'd missed three messages.
Heidi?
Babe, you'd better not be thinking about my brothers.
Hello?
What the heck was she doing here? She had friends… and none of them texted randomly to check on her the way Dom did. God, Paul hadn't texted her once this weekend, and he was dog-sitting Princess! None of her other friends called her 'Babe'. And for sure, none of them cared if she ogled their brothers. Hillary was right about one thing… It was flirty. And it seemed to be mutual.
Heidi tapped her fingernail on the tabletop and stared hard at the phone.
So… what was she hoping would happen? She wasn't naive enough to think that she could have a relationship with Dom that didn't include… kinky aspects. That part was actually kind of… well, very intriguing. Her mind helpfully replayed the sound of Tammy's cry of pleasure, and she felt an answering pulse low in her belly. Yes. Yes, she definitely wanted that.
But, Dom… being in control was a requirement for him. And she had a feeling that control wouldn't just be about where she could put her hands or when she was allowed to speak in bed. How much control would he expect? How much was she willing—or able—to give? And, most importantly, would it even be worth the risk? As she worried this over, the phone vibrated in her hands.
Okay, I'm guessing the candle wrapping or the drumming have got your attention. If you need me, let me know. I'll be here.
He'd be there if she needed him.
Such a small thing, almost a throwaway comment, but even though she'd only really known him for three and a half days… she believed that he meant it.
And just like that, she knew. With a shuddering breath, she typed.
Dom… I really like you.
She followed that with another text.
Just wanted you to know that.
There was no response. One minute passed, then two, and her confidence eroded like sand in the tide.
Shit. What a stupid, stupid thing to do. I sound like a lovesick middle-schooler. He was her neighbor. He had a cavalcade of gorgeous, svelte, busty women parading through his front door every single day… she was not his type. What must he think of her for… Her phone vibrated.
When are you coming back?
God. What did that mean? He knew that she was planning to go back tomorrow morning, right before work. He'd asked her that before. Did he want her to come back early? Suddenly she needed to know, for once and for all.
Tonight. I decided I'm coming back tonight.
Good. Come to me as soon as you get home.
A fiery coil that was half excitement and half fear shivered up her spine and spread warmth through her stomach, even as the phone vibrated once more.
And, Heidi… drive safely.
Boom boom ba dum, Boom boom ba dum… Not freakin' meditation drumming this time, but the crazy, excited pounding of Heidi's own heart.
Chapter 8
She was on her way home.
He'd lost all sense of propriety and fucking ordered her to come to him.
Dom was vaguely aware of a sense of foreboding, something in him that said turn back now, before it's too late, but he ignored it. He didn't cave to fear, and what fun was a relationship that was safe and predictable?
He shouldn't be so happy to have her come home, when he'd only known her for three days.
Should he?
She'd messaged that she liked him, making him feel like a teen again.
She likes me!
He'd grinned at the message when it came in.
; It had been so long since he'd shown interest in a girl other than someone at The Club. Though the girls from The Club wanted stern and bossy, most would assume it was an act of sorts. But with Heidi, he'd been himself. He'd even let his guard down. And she hadn't sent him scathing messages telling him to mind his own damn business. No, she'd done the opposite. She told him she liked him.
As he was.
She wasn't a pushover, either—she did like to hold her ground, and he found he liked that about her.
Where was the challenge, if she was putty in his hands?
Then what was it that tugged on his conscience? He shook his head as he unloaded his dishwasher, and began putting things away. And as he slid the heavy glasses to the back of the cabinet, he probed.
Dom liked to face fear head-on, look it in the eye, and defeat it. He did not bury fear. He wasn't arrogant enough to claim he never felt fear. But he would not let it consume him.
So what if this girl appealed to him more than any other girl he'd met in years? So what if her very nearness caused him to grow short of breath, and his pulse pounded when she drew close?
Dom, I really like you.
But he knew she didn't really like him.
She couldn't, because she didn't know him. She'd liked what she'd seen so far and yeah, that was cool and hell, he liked her, too. But what would happen when he showed her the real Dom? Would she still like him when he laid out his expectation of her obedience? What if she consented? And what if she went running? This wasn't a girl he met at a club or an anonymous chick he met online. This was a girl who lived in the same complex as he did. He'd enjoyed his vacation, despite the looming stress at work he would be returning to shortly, but he would not make a foolish mistake. This wasn't spring break in college.
This was playing with fire.
He could not, would not, proceed to do anything without consent. And he wanted her full consent, not wide-eyed nodding out of curiosity and attraction to a fantasy belief. He wanted her to know what she was getting into with him.
What was she getting into with him?
Just as he finally got to the real source of his fear, his phone buzzed.
He'd asked her to check in with him at every rest stop and tell him where she was.
Five to ten minutes, ETA!
Five minutes? The closest rest stop was an hour away. Where was she messaging from, then? Was she texting while she was driving?
He wasn't sure if the surge of adrenaline he felt was because he suspected she was doing something harebrained and stupid, texting while she drove, or because he only had five minutes to get his shit together before she was home.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled, when a knock came at his door.
Already? Damn.
He shut the dishwasher hard, and went to go open the door, glancing through the glass before he opened it. Mirror-reflection. Matteo.
He yanked the door open.
"Bad timing," Dom grumbled.
Matteo snorted, pushing past Dom to get in, a six-pack in one hand and a brown bag in the other.
"You have a girl in here?" Matteo asked, looking around.
"And if I did?" Dom growled, his eyes zoning in on the bag under Matteo's arm, his stomach growling at the scent.
"I'd push you to try the whole ménage thing for once."
Dom glared.
"Dude, chill. I'd leave," Matteo lied. "God, you can be such a tight-ass. So why the bad timing if you don't have a chick?"
"Company coming soon," he said, as his phone buzzed again.
Stuck at construction on Main.
So she was texting in the car. They'd talk about that.
Dom held the door open for Matteo and lifted his eyebrows expectantly.
Matteo had the nerve to assume a mock-affronted look. "Moi, Dominic? Your own flesh and blood? Fruit of our parents' loins? We shared the same womb. And I can't come and visit? I am deeply offended."
Dom glowered. Matteo grinned.
"Dude, I just stopped by to see if you wanted to catch the game tonight. Picked up something to drink, and some grub. You want me to leave, I'll see myself out," he said, as he moved toward the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle-opener from his key ring and popped the top off a bottle, tossing the top into the trash.
Who got themselves a beer as they were leaving?
Matteo pulled out a chair and straddled it.
Dom narrowed his eyes. "This is leaving?"
"When she comes, I'm outta here," Matteo said, pulling a large takeout tray out of the bag and lifting the lid. "Right now, I'm starving." The aroma of fries and cheeseburgers filled the apartment. Dom's stomach growled. Was that Roadhouse? Shit. He stalked over and grabbed one of the burgers.
"You're evil," he grumbled, the irony of his comment hitting him the minute he took a large bite of the burger. He nearly groaned. Matteo wasn't evil. He was goodness personified. The charbroiled perfection made his mouth water. Matteo well knew Dom's weakness for a Roadhouse burger.
"At your service," Matteo chuckled. The doorbell rang. Matt took several large, crispy fries, and dragged them leisurely through a pile of ketchup on the tray, eyes twinkling, ass staying right where it was, as Dom got to his feet.
He must've been glowering as he yanked the door open, because Heidi's smile froze on her face when she saw him.
"You okay?" she asked, as he gestured her in.
"Yeah," he growled low. "We have company." He led her by the elbow, which seemed to take her by surprise, as he brought her in and shut the door hard. Matteo's eyes widened when she stepped in, and Dom felt the urge to stand protectively in front of her. Matteo gave a short wave and a friendly grin. She smiled and gave another short wave back.
Dom glared.
She was wearing yoga pants that did wonders for her ass, and a sky blue hoodie that was far too big for her, one side falling off her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back in a cute knobby bun thing, making her look casual, tired, and absolutely gorgeous. God, he was a sucker for the 'girl next door' look.
It was time for his brother to go.
Fortunately, Matteo always inhaled his food and had already eaten most of one of the burgers. Dom picked his burger back up, took a large bite, and glared at Matteo. Matteo dutifully ignored him. It was not lost on Dom that Heidi's eyes were now fixed on the tray of food on the table.
"Hey, you look familiar," Matteo said, as he took another fry, and before Dom could stop him, "You're from The Club, right?"
Dom could've socked him, right then and there, sent him flying on his goddamn ass right across the kitchen.
"Matteo," he growled. Heidi's eyes widened.
"Club?" she blinked. "You guys are in a club?"
To his credit, Matteo immediately realized his error, which worked totally in Dom's favor, because now Matteo was rising to his feet.
"Yeah, um… nah, nothing, just a club Dom and I go to sometimes and I figured maybe that's where I'd seen you," he mumbled. "But I must be wrong." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Whooee, look at that time!"
"Gym," Heidi said. "You helped me at the gym." Her eyes still wide, she pulled the sweatshirt back up over her shoulder, and as she did, it fell down the other side.
As the realization hit Matteo, he gave Dom an apologetic, almost childish smile. "Ohhh. Yeah, right. Um, I'll just be going now," he said. Dom's eyes followed him, as Matteo gestured magnanimously. "I'm full now, too," he said. The hell he was. He was a two-double-cheeseburgers-extra-large-fry kinda guy. "Hope you're hungry." She swallowed, eyeing the tray of food. Matteo was already at the door. Dom followed.
"You asshole," Dom hissed. "I haven't had the talk about The Club with her yet."
"I, um, gathered that," Matteo said as his hand hit the door knob. He turned a shit-eating grin on Dom as the door swung open. "You can kick my ass later. For now, go feed your girl, and if my suspicion is right, which you know it almost always is, you'll thank me later."
Dom responded by shoving his brother out the
door and locking it behind him.
He turned to see Heidi staring at him. It looked like she was barely containing her laughter, biting her lip.
He grunted. "Hungry?"
"Starving," she said, looking wistfully at the burgers and fries.
"Help yourself," he said, as he stalked back in the kitchen and pulled a chair out for her. He gestured for her to sit down. She looked down, suddenly bashful.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Don't thank me," he said, taking another large bite of burger. "Matteo brought the food."
"No, I was thanking you for… never mind," she said. Her eyes watched him chew and swallow. She swallowed again. What the hell?
"Are you gonna eat, or what?" he asked. What was she waiting for?
"Um. Yeah, when I get home," she said. She shook her head. "Sorry. Can't eat this stuff." As he stared at her, she flushed. "Diet," she said in explanation.
He blinked in shock.
"Diet? What the hell are you on a diet for?"
She guffawed. "Um, in case you haven't noticed, Dom, though I do thank you for your ignorance on the matter, I have twenty pounds to lose."
He glared. "The hell you do!"
"I do!" she said, her eyes flashing.
He took a breath. Here we go again.
"When's the last time you ate?" he said. And as she paused, he amended. "And I mean real food, not whatever hippie shit your mother fed you."
She pursed her lips. "We had… quinoa porridge with flax seeds at nine. And I, um, ate in the car."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, taking another intentionally enormous bite out of his burger. She licked her lips.
He narrowed his eyes. "What'd you eat in the car?"
"A smashed 100-calorie granola bar," she said in a little voice.
He shoved the tray over to her.
"Eat," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. She eyed the food.
