by Virna DePaul
I sobered. Somehow I suspected Dom’s current intensity wasn’t entirely about my aunt’s house and his interest in protecting it. This was personal.
“If you sell this house,” Dom said, turning to me, “someone will either tear it down to the studs and replace everything as cheaply as possible to make a quick buck, or they’ll tear it down entirely.”
I sighed. “So I’m guessing Taylor told you about our text conversation. That I’m selling, not renovating.”
“Damn straight, he did. He also told me you were sick with pneumonia when Tabitha died. That I was…” He growled and ran his hands through his hair.
“That you were what?” I said, not sure what my having pneumonia had to do with anything.
“Nothing. Never mind. But Kayla, I can’t believe you intend to sell the house. To leave Fosterman just when you got here.”
Dom was breathing heavily and I couldn’t help but imagine that as out of control and wild as he seemed at the moment, he must look even more so after a particularly athletic round of intercourse. Perhaps on the kitchen table…
Focus, Kayla. Focus.
“Did Taylor tell you why I have to sell the house?”
“Yeah, it’s bullshit.”
His flippant attitude toward my money problems ignited a flame of anger inside my chest. How dare he come waltzing right inside my home and start stomping around? How dare he insist that he knows best about my house?
“It’s not bullshit, it’s numbers.”
“Bull…shit,” he repeated, slowly.
I gritted my teeth and took a determined step closer to him. His eyes followed me. “Stop saying that,” I said. “It’s true. I can’t afford a renovation. Any renovations. My house, my decision.”
Dom moved in closer and pointed a finger at my chest. He towered over me, so I stretched a tiny bit up onto my tiptoes.
“If you wanted to keep this house, if you wanted to stay,” he said, his voice low and almost trembling with anger, “you’d find a way. The amount we had in our estimate was high but workable, with projects split out over time. Even someone with a crappy credit score could get a mortgage on this place to pay for the renovations. So I’ll say it again. Bull…shit.”
I poked my own finger at his chest, which was now heaving just as much as mine. “Why are you being such an asshole?” Our breathing was raspy and our chests heaving and we were no more than inches from each other.
“Why are you afraid?” he countered.
“Afraid of what?”
“To take a risk. On the house. On us.”
I dug my fingernails into my palm. How did this man cause such a fierce reaction in me? I didn’t even know him.
“I’m not afraid.” Wait, was I afraid of them? Not of Taylor and Dom as it related to this house, but of them in a completely different way? Was I afraid of how I’d reacted to them the first time we met, and how I’d continue to react to them if we continued to see one another? Had I convinced myself I was leaving Fosterman so there was no point in seeing them again because of fear rather than practicality?
“You are,” Dom insisted.
“Am not.” We were both shouting.
“Then prove it.”
“Fine!”
“Go to lunch with me.”
My voice caught in my throat and I looked at him in surprise. Had Dark and Broody Dominic just asked me out? My mind whirled. “Did you say lunch?”
Dom leaned back and crossed his arms across his wide chest. “Yeah, I guess I did. Lunch. With me.”
“Like a date?” I asked dumbly.
“Yes. Unless you’re afraid.” He cocked a challenging brow, a ghost of a grin slowly replacing his earlier scowl.
I let the words sink in. “Yesterday, you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even thank me for the cake or say goodbye.”
“Maybe that’s because I didn’t want to say goodbye. And yesterday things were one way. Now they’re another way.”
“How come? Because I turned down the bid? Because Taylor told you I had pneumonia a few weeks ago?”
“Because of those things and other things, too. Because I thought I couldn’t handle things a certain way, and now I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I exclaimed.
“Then come to lunch with me and I’ll try to explain,” he said, and the intensity of his gaze and his voice had me catching my breath. I tried, really hard, to remind myself why I’d turned down Taylor’s dinner invitation last night. I tried telling myself I needed to keep my focus on my future, and my future didn’t include either one of the Fix-It Guys.
I tried, but somehow, I still ended up saying, “Okay.”
And that’s when I saw Dom smile—really smile.
And my heart almost melted.
Dom and I took his work truck, and the first few minutes of the ride were spent in awkward silence, save for the hum of the engine and the whip of the wind. Then Dom drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and sighed. “I’m an asshole,” he said finally, still staring straight ahead.
“Yes, you are.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and caught him doing the same. We each chuckled softly.
Before the awkwardness could set back in like a damp, mildewed blanket, Dom spoke again. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. Yesterday and today.”
I looked over at him. Everything about him was sharp, hard. His jaw line, his eyebrows, the angle of his shoulder, the muscles down his arm that I could see past his rolled up flannel shirtsleeve. But I knew there was hurt and vulnerability and complexity behind all those sharp, hard lines.
“I accept your apology,” I said.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
We settled into an easy conversation, with Dom telling me he was taking me to a diner he’d been going to for years. He’d even taken his first date there a long time ago.
“Aww, that’s so cute.” I smiled. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen?” He squinted, trying to remember. “I’d just gotten my license. I really liked this girl and wanted to take her out, but I didn’t have money for a fancy place, so we went to Frawley’s instead.”
Sixteen. Before Laura and college. “Hey, it’s not the price tag, it’s the fun you have, right?” I reassured him.
“I guess so,” he said quietly.
“How long have you lived in Fosterman?”
“I was born here, grew up here. Only left for college.”
“And how’s it been since you came back?”
“Good. My family’s here. Plus, Taylor’s not a bad roommate and he’s a great business partner. A lot of people are moving out of the Bay Area to remote locations like Fosterman, so work is steady.”
I considered asking him about his fiancée…maybe even telling him that I’d spoken with Laura. Why stir up old emotions, though? Dom was finally relaxing around me, and I wanted more of that.
In no time, we were pulling into the diner. The place seemed a little run-down around the edges but cheerful, with a bright neon sign announcing that Frawley’s was named Fosterman’s Best Eatery for the sixteenth year in a row.
“Looks nice.” I climbed out of the truck and noted a few more trucks parked around us.
“Doubt it’s got much on all the places you’ve been to in the big city, but—”
“It’ll be great,” I interrupted, reassuring him. I saw a shadow in his eyes, as though he was worried I would turn my nose up at this restaurant, deem it not good enough for my high standards. Right, because broke ol’ me who couldn’t afford to renovate Tabitha’s house would turn my nose up at a diner?
I took his arm as we walked in. He looked down at my hand for a brief moment, seeming surprised at my touch. The air felt charged between us and time slowed down ever so slightly.
I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Good, because I wanted to have a connection with Dominic so much, despite his moodiness the day before, but bad, because I shouldn’t have be
en feeling anything for anybody when I wouldn’t be staying in Fosterman. Once again, however, I pushed that thought out of my mind and decided to simply focus on the here and now.
We headed inside where the diner was even more old-fashioned than on the outside. Gleaming tiled counter, a couple of coffee pots percolating away, and a rotating stand showing off glistening donuts and thick wedges of pie. A few waitresses in short skirts and big smiles walked briskly about, pausing to chat with people here and there and letting out enthusiastic gales of laughter.
My heart warmed. This was community, real community, something I’d lacked back in New York.
In the kitchen, a large, older man worked his ass off at the grill, wiping sweat off his brow. Dom led me to a leather-clad booth in the corner. Someone in the booth next to us was drinking a vanilla milkshake out of a tall glass, which made me smile. So classic. If I ever needed a reference for what a small-town diner looked like while writing one of my food articles, I’d only need to come here for lunch.
Something tugged in my chest—anxiety. Would I ever go back to writing food critiques again? Did I even want to? What path should my career take? Where did I go from here?
“You’re in for a treat,” Dominic said, nodding toward the short-order cook. “Nathan’s great. He puts the word ‘home’ in ‘down-home cooking.’”
The cook looked up and noticed Dom, and called out, “My man! Can’t resist my fries, right?” He flipped a burger onto a bun, placed the plate on the pass, and came out from behind the grill.
“And who’s this?” Nathan asked, smiling down at me. “Don’t think I’ve seen this lovely lady around here before.”
I reached out my hand to shake Nathan’s as Dominic made the introductions. “I just moved to town,” I explained. “I inherited my Aunt Tabitha’s place. Taylor and Dominic came by to give me an estimate on some things the house needs.” Some things. Boy, what an understatement.
“The Fix-It Guys,” Nathan said with a twang in his voice, imitating what I guessed was a TV commercial. “And Tabitha, huh?” The old man’s eyes took on a twinkle.
“Hmm…sounds like you may have some history with my aunt. Good or bad?” I ventured, cocking my head.
He burst into laughter. “You come back here when it’s a little less busy, and I’ll tell you some stories about Tabitha Vanderzee.”
I grinned. Tabitha had told me many of her own wild stories and so far, everyone who’d mentioned her seemed to genuinely love her. “So, what do you recommend?”
“Anything with waffles,” he replied at once.
“Give me anything with waffles, then.” I smiled. “As long as there’s coffee on the side.”
“Will do. Nice meeting you, miss. The usual, Dom?” After Dom nodded, Nathan ducked back into the kitchen. A young waitress stopped by with two coffee cups and expertly poured for Dom and myself.
Dom wrapped his long, suntanned fingers around his coffee cup and stared into the hot steam swirling up from it. Every few seconds his eyes flickered to mine, only to catch me looking, then he’d glance away. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t tell what. What did he want from me? What could I possibly give him?
As I grabbed my coffee cup, he suddenly moved, and our fingers brushed. I didn’t pull away and neither did he. When I looked up at him, the look on his face made me catch my breath.
“Listen, Kayla,” he finally said. “Taylor and I were talking about the house, how you don’t have the money to do the repairs right now. And we wanted to run something by you—”
He stopped when the sound of a cell phone ring filled the air. Wincing, he dug into his back pocket and said, “Sorry. I’ve been expecting an important business call. Mind if I take this outside?”
I nodded even though I was anxious for him to finish what he’d been saying. After he got up and walked out, phone at his ear, my gaze firmly locked on his tight ass, I blew out a breath. What had he and Taylor talked about exactly? What did they—
“I don’t remember every face I see, but I know for a fact I wouldn’t have forgotten yours.”
A man’s throaty voice pulled me out of my reverie. I jerked my head around, ready to reply to whoever this irritating flirt was—had he not noticed I was on a date with one of the sexiest men in town?
The reply of, “not interested, sorry-not-sorry,” froze in my throat when I caught sight of a drop-dead, insanely gorgeous magazine model giving me a dazzling white smile. The blond man looked like he was in his mid-thirties, in a suit that fit him like perfection. He was shamelessly and obviously undressing me with his bright green eyes. He tore my T-shirt in two with his gaze and feasted on my naked breasts with his widened pupils. I shivered as if I was actually standing exposed in front of all these strangers.
“New around here, or just passing through?” he asked.
“Umm…”
Why couldn’t I form words?
“If you’re passing through, I just need fifteen minutes to pack my bags,” he continued, a joking grin on his face. “I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Don’t worry, my passport is current.”
I made a show of rolling my eyes, but damn, it was hard to play it cool. Mister Tall Dark and Handsome’s flirtation was a little on the strong side, but his suit fit him like perfection.
“So,” the man said, “could I buy you lunch?”
“Um, sorry, I’m actually with someone right now. He’s taking a phone call, outside,” I said, pointing to the door. I could see Dom outside, intent on his conversation. He glanced up right as I was pointing, and the line over his brow furrowed even deeper when he saw my new companion. I had a naughty, childish desire for him to feel jealous. Dom snapped something into his phone, then shoved it in his pocket and headed back to the diner.
“Of course you’d be with Dom,” the man in front of me said, drawing my attention back to him. “Too bad. He’s not one to share. Not anymore, at least,” he added, winking.
While I was gaping at that statement, Dom strode up, all quintessentially dark and broody but with a slight smile on his face, and the new guy cheerfully called out, “Dom, my man!” The two guys gave each other a quick hug, showing me another side of Dominic in the flash of an eye. He could be sweet, affectionate when he wanted to, even though he was still warily eyeing the other guy.
“Haven’t seen much of you lately, Dom,” the suited hunk said. “How the hell are you?”
“I’ve been out of it for a while, but getting back in,” Dominic said. “Kayla, this is my and Taylor’s friend, Logan. We all grew up here in Fosterman.”
“Nice to meet you, Kayla.” Logan stuck out his hand as Dom slid back into the booth. Logan’s gaze traveled down my face and caressed the swell of my breasts, appreciating the vee my cleavage made. I went wet at the intensity of his gaze. If I’d felt attracted to him the moment I first laid eyes on him, that attraction had now intensified a hundredfold.
And for the third time in twenty-four hours, I had the pleasure of sliding my hand into yet another gorgeous man’s hand. Strong, soft, hands that I knew could satiate me if given the chance. “Logan…” I narrowed my eyes.
“Raider,” he said.
“Ah, the real estate agent?” I asked.
Both Dom and he seemed surprised.
“Yes, have we met?”
“No, but I got a recommendation from someone who said I should call you.”
“You want to sit down with us?” Dom asked.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed when Logan said, “Thanks, but I’m with my group over there.” He pointed to another table where two other guys were sitting drinking milkshakes. “But I do hope to see you around sometime, Kayla,” he added, focusing his full attention on me. “She makes quite the impression, doesn’t she, Dom?” He remained standing watching me very, very carefully. So much that Dominic eyed what was going on between us like a tennis match and sat back, frowning.
“Good to see you, buddy,” Dom said, ig
noring Logan’s question. It was clear Dom was telling him he was now dismissed and could go, get the hell out, leave Dom’s woman alone.
“You have a business for sale, Kayla?” Logan asked, sticking his beautiful hands in his pockets where I couldn’t see them. The action made me think of other things hiding in there. “Because I only do commercial real estate. Closed on a big deal today, actually.”
“Congrats,” I said, feeling a little deflated that he didn’t sell individual houses. “Well, if you don’t sell homes, then I guess I’ll have to keep looking.”
“Listen, I can still run some comps for you, do some research, and see what comes up. I was just passing through town, but give me your number and we’ll keep in touch.” Logan was a smooth talker, and from Dom’s now narrowed gaze, one who could weasel a woman out of any man’s arms.
Something felt tense between Logan and Dom just then. It could’ve been some normal male competition, but it was hard to tell with both of them trying to say all the right things in front of me. I gave Logan one of my old business cards from the e-zine that had my cell phone number on it.
“Life in the Big Apple?” he said, examining my card.
“My old work in New York.”
“Ah, a New York girl.” He flashed me a sexy smile. “A woman after my own heart.”
Dominic cracked his knuckles, as if to remind Logan that he could break him in two if he didn’t stop flirting with me ASAP. It snapped Logan back to his senses, and he shook both our hands again and was off. My gaze and mind went with him. What a dashing, handsome man. Mouth-wateringly sexy. My goodness.
When I turned back to Dom, the heat of his expression almost had me exploding like Mount Vesuvius. What the heck was in the water in this town to make all the men sexy as hell?
When Nathan brought out the food, Dominic flipped sides of the booth and came to sit next to me. Either he felt possessive after the Logan encounter or he just preferred sitting this way. I felt shivery with him so close. First Taylor, then Dominic, then Logan Raider, and now Dominic again. It was enough to make a girl die from swooning.
