The Italian: A Mountain Man Romance
Page 2
“Great. Do whatever you need to do.”
She worked without talking, and Dom found he appreciated the quiet companionship.
“Hey, can I use your phone?” she said, looking up from the computer.
“Sure. Let’s see if it has a signal yet.” He turned it on and held it up, trying to get more signal. “It looks like it’s working now. Here. Type in a number to see if works.”
She dialed and smiled after a few seconds. “Hey.”
Dom went back to cooking, trying his best not to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help himself.
“I got your email. I know I said I would text you, but I lost my cell. I’m alright, and some guy rescued me. I'm staying with him until I find my car later today.”
He turned and leaned against the oven, watching her from his view in the kitchen. She sniffed the air with her eyes closed. Dom was looking forward to her tasting the food and confirming if it was as good as it smelled.
“I’m not sure where it is, but we’ll find it.”
Dom turned the skillet off and grabbed the plates and silverware.
“Hey. I've got to go. I’ll call you when I’m home.” There was a small pause. “What? I can’t hear you. Love you, Rach. Bye.”
She stood up, closing the computer and set it in the living room. “Thanks for letting me use that.”
“No problem. You find what you were looking for?”
“Sure did. Just checked my email and a few message boards.”
“Great,” he said, standing at her chair, waiting to help her sit down.
“Guess chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”
He chuckled. “Not for Italians.”
She smiled at the plate. “So what is this?”
“Garlic zucchini frittata.”
“Smells great.”
“Let’s hope it tastes that way, too.”
She giggled, cutting with her fork. “It will. I’m sure of it.”
They ate in silence, and only when her plate was clear did she say, “Told you.”
He smiled. “You’re too kind.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I eat and run.”
He did, but he couldn’t say that. “Of course not. I’m sure you have places to go.” And no reason to stay, he added without saying it out loud.
“I would like to find my car, and maybe the other things I lost.”
He could help with that. He wanted to help her, and he was interested in any way he could make the time they spent together last longer.
“Well let me clean up and then well be on our way,” he said, rubbing a hand over his dark stubble.
Chapter 4
Dom drove, and she spent more time looking at him out the corner of her eye than looking for her car. His hair was still damp from the shower and sticking up at strange angles. He kept rubbing his hands through it. With his sleeves folded up to his elbows, he looked a lot like Bond after hours. It was even harder for her to concentrate, even though she tried. But it wasn't like her car would be hard to miss. It wouldn't be difficult to spot an abandoned car on the side of the road. He couldn’t miss it, even if she did. The view of him controlling the car was better than anything she’d see out her window anyway, as long as he didn’t catch her staring.
“Is that it?”
“What?” She blushed, biting her lip and hoping to God he didn’t notice she'd been watching him.
“Over there. Is that your car?”
Old. Ford. Red, and somewhat dented, on the side of the road. It certainly looked like her car. Alone at the base of the hill she'd thought would be a great idea to climb alone and take pictures of the ocean view.
“Yep. That’s it.”
Dom climbed out and walked around the car, surveying its doors and wheels.
“Strangely, it seems fine.” He yanked on all the door handles, none of them budged. “Consider yourself lucky no one broke a window or tried to take it.”
She got out of the car, unsure of what exactly she should be doing to help and nodded along. “You’re right. Thank you.”
“So where’s the rest of you stuff?” He looked around as if her things would appear out of thin air.
“I’m pretty sure I lost it all on my way.”
“Then let’s go,” he said, smiling over his shoulder as he walked up the path she took. She smiled back, enjoying the view more than the hunt for her lost things. Dom had a very sexy butt, she noticed. It wasn’t long before retracing her steps led her to her backpack, and further along the ravine, her very dead phone.
The reason why no one had found her was the same reason none of her things had been stolen: It was a fairly secluded area. Together, they were able to find everything she'd lost. She even managed to get pictures of the view she'd missed last time due to the clouds. In total, it took them a little over an hour, and she was both disappointed and unsure what to say as he walked her back to her car.
“Start it up. I want to make sure it’s okay before I let you go.”
She reached in, starting the engine, and against her silent wishes, it started up perfectly. Sure, the growl of the engine was a bit sleepy, but strong nonetheless.
“Let it run a bit,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
She nodded in agreement as she leaned against the car.
“You’re sure you know where you’re going?”
Her hands fidgeted in front of her as she nodded. “Yes. I think I can remember just fine. It was practically a straight road. One right and then follow the street signs all the way back.”
“Right. That’s good that you remember.” He squinted upward, taking in the bright sun and the sky. ”We’ve made good time. You’ll be back in the city before dark.”
“I should be,” she said, pushing a piece of her blonde strands behind her ear. “Thanks,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “For everything.”
He held her tightly, so tight she could feel the wide planes of his chest and smell his cologne. He was warm, and she wished for a moment that she didn’t have to let go.
“It was a pleasure,” he murmured, his baritone caressing her neck.
She sighed and pulled back. They hugged much longer than was appropriate. Any longer would tempt her to do something about the tingling between her thighs. The tingling she was trying to ignore.
He kissed her on both cheeks, so close to her mouth and yet so far. “Well, off you go then,” he said, holding the door open until she was seated and closed it softly.
“Goodbye,” she mouthed as she drove off feeling sad. Goodbyes weren’t hard for her. She didn’t mind them, but knowing she might never see that man again made her heart ache. He stood looking like a model in her rear mirror with his fists pushed into his pockets.
The entire ride, she drove thinking of him. His face and the way his eyes seemed so sad when they were burning with intensity. He was more than hot, and she wanted to get to know him. If she could have, she would have, but she just couldn’t afford to.
An hour and a half later, just like he'd said, she arrived in the city before sundown.
Her apartment was as she'd left it. One bedroom with a bed partially made, a living room with a dead computer and a yoga mat instead of an entertainment system or a TV. An untouched old cereal bowl had been left in the sink, and there was a bathroom too small for two. Without Dom, it seemed emptier and lonelier than usual.
She dropped her bag and climbed into the shower. Even though she'd showered at Dom’s, wearing the same clothes made her feel gross. It didn’t take long to revive her. She had to get out quickly, too tempted to daydream about Dom and the way he might touch her body.
With wet hair and skin clinging to her bathrobe, she sat at the living room table to boot up her computer. There were a few things she needed to check. A quick perusal of her email showed Facebook notifications and a reminder from her friend Rachel that finding a daddy took time. Funny enough, there were three notifications from Sugar Baby, so she clicked one, taking her to the website.
She sighed and stretched before going to the kitchen. She opened her cabinet with both hands, wide, as if there were so many options.
“What’ll it be, Ann? Cereal or ramen?” she asked herself aloud. “Ugh. So many choices, I’m not sure, but I think the milk’s going bad soon. Cereal it is, then.”
She grabbed the box of generic fruit loops and poured the milk over it before sitting with her spoon. This was her everyday routine. There wasn’t much else she could do. This was the life she would be living until she could afford something else. Her parents had died leaving her with next to nothing. With hard work and good grades, she got just enough scholarships to pay for her semester tuition. Their inheritance allowed her to get an apartment off campus so she could have some privacy and room to herself. Everything else, like car maintenance or gas, was up to her. She’d been working in the university library before Rachel introduced her to the life of Sugar Baby. In her words, “You’re a babe. You could do so much better than the library.”
Anna, being the naïve girl that she was, had taken offense and had thought she had been saying she should be working somewhere else.
“Excuse me? All the TA positions are full.”
“No, babe. Something that pays much more than that.”
“What? I haven’t seen any positions open,” she had said with her hands on her hips.
Rachel had laughed and shaken her head. “It’s an off-campus position.”
“But you don’t own a car; how can you be working off-campus?”
Rachel had quit two months before, claiming she had something much better lined up, and since then, Ann hadn’t seen much of her. When they did run into each other, she couldn’t deny that Rachel did look much better. In addition to the upgrade in wardrobe, she seemed much more relaxed about tuition or buying books, which prompted Ann to admit she missed having a friend in the library. With a little prompting, Rachel shared the world of sugar daddies with Ann, and like a master to a grasshopper, she walked her through all the steps to setting up her profile and sussing out whether a daddy really had money or was only stunting.
So far, she’d only been on the site for a month. She’d gone out on a few dates, but none of the men were interesting enough for her to be okay taking their money while they spent time together. She knew her man was out there; she just hadn’t found him yet. She tilted her head back, gulping down the dregs of milk and cereal before licking the top lip and sighing. If only the right man looked something like Dom and came with a lot of money.
But what were the odds of that?
Chapter 5
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remind himself to relax. This woman was giving him undue stress. He just couldn’t stop thinking about her. Anna. What was she doing? Where was she right now? Would he ever see her again? His dick had been rock hard since she left and he needed relief. He decided to drive into town.
There was a bar there, and it was Friday night. Burning off steam shouldn’t prove too difficult. Even though he'd been living in the mountains for almost a year, he didn’t know anyone personally yet. Inadvertently, the town held some familiar faces.
“Hey, Dom,” the waitress said, sliding her hands down his arm.
He wouldn’t have known her name if it wasn’t for the name tag on her chest.
“Hey, Cherie.”
In general, he avoided the people in town, but it was a small town. People talked. He was foreign, and worse, elusive; of course people were interested in who he was and how they could get to know more about him. Which was why he didn’t come into town often and never brought women to his cabin.
A woman was sitting by herself in an empty booth, curl of hair around her index finger, eye-fucking Dom and daring him to come over and speak. He had more self-control than that. He might have been harder than steel, but he hadn’t lost all the blood in his head.
“Something on your mind?” Cherie slid her finger under his chin, refocusing him to look at her and not around the bar.
“No. Let me get a rum and coke.” If there was something on his mind, he wasn’t planning to spill the beans to her. Dom knew people did that, but his worries were not for sharing. Plus, he had to be careful how much he drank and where. He did not have the kind of life story that anyone could hear. Unfortunately, his secrets and past were a little bit heavier than the average woeful tales.
“One rum and coke, coming right up,” she said, popping a bubble from her gum.
The manager came from around back and held his arms out, as if inviting Dom in for a hug.
“Mister Italy. Long time no see. How are you doing?”
“It’s good, Jim,” he said, holding his glass up as a toast.
“You should come around more often. The ladies love you, man. Every time you leave, women ask about you, you old bastard. Leaving a trail of broken hearts.”
He shrugged just as an older man came into the bar and sat right beside him. As if there weren’t tons of bar stools vacant.
“Hey, Charlie!” Jim clearly made it a priority to know his customers.
“How are you doing, Jim?”
Cherie poured whatever Charlie's regular was and tipped her.
“What’s a guy like you doing here?”
“Where should I be?”
“In between a long pair of legs. There are tons offering,” he said, looking around the bar. “Take your pick.”
Dom shrugged. Charlie looked to be in his early 50s and was obviously wealthy. He didn't look like he was from around here. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m in oil. I’m taking a break from an entire day of trying to invest in a pipeline going through the area.”
That was very helpful information.
“That’s interesting,” he said to be polite, not because he actually wanted to talk. If there was anything that screamed leave me alone, it was drinking before five o’clock and alone. He was looking for quiet, not a pep talk from a pervy old man.
“Maybe to some. What I’m finding more interesting is all this cat meowing around you.”
That was a way to say it. “Like I said, I hadn’t noticed,” Dom growled, hoping to make it clear he wasn’t interested in talking.
“Well, I’ve got eyes. I'll notice for the both of us,” he said, appreciating one blonde who was staring at both of them while chewing on a cherry stem.
A brunette with long legs came up and sat one stool down from Dom before crossing her legs and swiveling toward him, giving him a good view.
“Cherie, can I get a sandwich to go?”
“Sure thing, toots,” she said, turning towards the rarely used kitchen.
“Hello, gentleman,” the brunette said, squaring her shoulders.
“Hello yourself.” Charlie said suggestively.
Dom chose to speak by raising his glass.
“Isn’t it a bit early for drinking?” she asked, licking her lips.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Charlie murmured before raising his glass for a refill.
“And what about you, Mister Tall, Dark, and Mysterious?”
“What about me?”
“What’s got you drinking in the middle of the day?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said with a smirk, hoping it would soften the sting of his rejection.
Cherie returned with wrapped aluminum and the brunette rose to her feet.
“Here you go, dear.”
She paid with her debit card and sm
iled. She waited with her chest thrust out, but Dom couldn’t pay attention. All he could think of was Anna and what she might look like waking up in his bed.
“See you later, Cher,” she said with a twinge of disappointment as she turned to leave.
“See you later, honey,” Charlie yelled after her, though it was obvious the brunette wasn’t looking to hear from him.
As soon as the door closed, he spoke up. “Good lord. Do us both a favor and pick one.”
Maybe he would have, if the blonde had had more curves. She was skinny with huge tits and a ridiculous shade of red lipstick that reminded him of a clown. He was more interested in a sleepy blue-eyed woman with curves that he could hold onto and perky nips.
“No can do, man,” he said, tipping his cup back before slamming it down on the aged wood.
“Why not?”
“None of them are what I’m looking for.”
He stood up and grabbed money from his wallet before throwing it on the bar counter.
“The one I’m looking for already got away.”
Chapter 6
Anna reclined on her couch, scrolling through the hundreds of photos she had taken on the mountain. Sure, she had hit her head, but at least the story had ended on a good note. She did everything she was there to do, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She had spent a little over twenty-four hours with Dom, and he had been nothing like she had imagined. He was hot. She got that when she had seen his picture for the first time, but he was more than two-dimensional now. He was kind, caring, and could cook his ass off. She felt a little guilty but stopped that thought before it could run its course. She was alone, and people on their own had to make hard decisions. She had had enough experience with hard decisions the past year from being homeless, dumpster-diving for food, and convincing herself she would get a degree in business administration even if it killed her. It was practical, and wasn’t she just the perfect Canadian for living up to their motif? She was going to sell her pictures and be happy. That’s what her parents would have wanted.
Her computer chimed, letting her know she had an email, and she clicked on it, hoping it was a confirmation of her payment. And it was. She sent the message hours ago, but her mystery client was unreachable.