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“If that’s all, I got to go,” Dante said, his fingers swiftly ending the call. He looked up and noticed her standing there. The contours of his face softened. “Hey, darling, how was your morning shift?”
She found a seat on the couch arm, her eyes drifting around the room but not seeing anything. The cushion dipped slightly under her weight as she recounted her day, her voice carrying the mundane but comforting rhythm of routine.
“So, the shop was bustling as usual,” she replied, her fingers idly playing with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt. “You know, the regular crowd shuffled in, each one with their own fascinating story.”
She laughed softly, recalling a particular difficult client. “Oh, and Miss Phoebe Park was on her eternal quest again. Today it was for the perfect blend of Earl Grey. She had me mix three different brands to get it just right. She said it needed a”—Rebecca inserted air quotes around the words—“dash of whimsy,” before adding, “whatever that means.”
Dante chuckled, his fingers gently squeezing her knee, urging her to continue.
She sighed and smiled wistfully. “Then there was the young couple, hunting for the perfect anniversary gift. They finally settled on a bullet vibrator and a cock ring after nearly an hour of deliberation. It was fun watching them debate between that and a violet wand.”
Dante’s eyes warmed as her words flowed, but she could practically feel tension in his shoulders. Despite their light chatter, there was a silent undercurrent running beneath it.
“And then there was this Mommy with a Little boy. From his clothes and behavior, he must’ve been about four. They bought a brush but then”—Rebecca giggled behind her hand—“the Mommy tried the brush.”
“What’s funny about that?” Dante arched an eyebrow in a move that was both sexy and dominant and made something inside her melt.
“Well, she smacked it against the Little’s behind.”
“Ahh.” Knowing eyes caught her gaze. “And how did it make you feel?”
Rebecca chewed on her lip and shyly stared at Dante from beneath her eyelashes. “Actually, it was kind of hot.”
His expression turned wicked, and his pupils almost swallowed his irises. “That’s excellent information.”
Goosebumps erupted on her arms at the carnal promise on his face.
Her recounting of the day’s events brought simplistic charm into the room. However, the echo of his earlier conversation still hung in the air, a ghost waiting to be acknowledged. Despite the laughter and shared smiles, the unsaid words lingered, promising to steer their evening into uncharted territory.
The room quietened as Dante’s hands guided Rebecca onto his lap, the soft hum of the Ranch outside filtering through the curtains. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the action carrying a soothing familiarity but felt as if it were laden with a hint of nervous energy.
His voice broke the silence, his words carefully chosen yet carrying a weight of reality that bore down upon them. “Rebecca, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. That was Roger MacIntosh... from the District Attorney’s office on the phone. They’ve had a breakthrough.”
Her eyes searched his. “What kind of breakthrough?”
He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against hers. “They’ve made some arrests. Jango and Evan have been apprehended.”
Her breath caught in surprise, but her smile didn’t quite form as she realized she’d only heard two names. “Wha-what about Miguel?”
“I’m sorry, I thought you already knew. I’m afraid Miguel didn’t survive the accident.”
Unlike Dante, she didn’t feel the tiniest bit of remorse for Miquel’s death. He’d been a terrible man, inflicting pain and fear whenever he could while he’d been alive. She could only hope it was his turn to live in terror as he faced the horrors of Hell. The flicker of hope that had ignited in her chest at Dante’s revelation swelled, her heart fluttering against her rib cage. “Really? Oh, Dante that’s?—”
He raised a hand, gently stopping her, his expression a blend of relief and something darker. “There’s more, darling. They saved two young women from a… from a grim situation in a motel room.”
His words painted images she wished she could unsee, a reality she had lived and hoped would never touch her life again.
She nestled her head against his chest, feeling relief and chilling fear. “Oh, Dante…”
His arm tightened around her as though trying to shield her from the harsh realities beyond the cozy bubble they found themselves in. His lips pressed against her forehead, a silent promise of protection amidst a world that suddenly seemed less safe.
The words lingered in the room, a silent storm that whispered of a journey neither of them had anticipated but now found themselves entwined in. Through the veil of hope, the shadows danced menacingly, reminding them that reality was often a double-edged sword.
“The arrest is wonderful news.” The relief in her voice was palpable, but the tears that pricked her eyes betrayed the storm within. “And I’m glad they found those young women.”
The women... she couldn’t help but feel a kinship, a shared sigh of relief.
The gentle circles Dante traced on her back felt like an anchor in the sea of uncertainties that threatened to engulf Rebecca. His touch was reassuring, yet the heaviness in his voice as they discussed the charges added a certain chill to the room.
