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Fall ForHim
“Nope.”
My head jerks up. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never been—” I look at Sophie, but decide to risk the word “—married?”
“No.” Before I can ask, he adds, “Never met the right woman.”
“Oh.” Heart pounding, I look down again. I am so not going to ask him what the right woman would belike.
The silence that stretches out this time isn’t altogether comfortable, at least not on my part. If it were just me, I could just take things one day at a time and not worry about it. In theory, anyway.
I’ve never known a man like Dante. On the surface, he’s so wrong for me in so many ways, but when I’m with him none of that seems to matter. Still, all we have is chemistry and the fact that Sophie likeshim.
With an inward sigh, I force myself to let it go. Fornow.
“You done?” Dantesays.
I look up, startled. “Done withwhat?”
“Stewin’ about stuff in yourhead.”
My lips compress. “It’s all right for you. I have to worry about how everything is affecting my daughter.”
“You’re a good mom. That’s why you’rehere.”
I can’t wrap my head around that. “What?”
“What’s good for you is good for her. You getting what you need is what lets you give your girl what she needs. If I were bad for you, I’d be bad for her. And you wouldn’t behere.”
My mouth drops open. It takes me a few seconds to realize there’s food in there and snap it shut again. I start chewing like an automaton, but my mind is whirling.
Try as I might, I can’t argue with his logic. And I’ve never thought about it that way before. My whole life revolves around Sophie … but that means taking care of me, too.
And not just at the level of keeping body and soul together.
Raising my eyes to his, I say softly, “You’re verywise.”
I’ve surprised him again. In an equally soft voice, but an octave or two deeper, he says, “If we didn’t have an audience, I’d show you what I’m feeling rightnow.”
I squirm some more. “But we have to go towork.”
“That, too.”
Rising, I start to clear the table, and we work together until everything is done. When the kitchen’s clean, I ask, “Can you watch her for a minute while I get ready?”
“Sure.”
It’s a big step, but Dante’s right. From the start, I’ve instinctively felt safe with him. If my hindbrain considered him a threat to me, or Sophie, I never would have set foot under hisroof.
Still, I don’t waste time getting Gina’s bags and going to work in the bathroom. A minute or two later, I hear the soft, low rumble of Dante’s voice, punctuated by occasional sounds from Sophie. It sounds like it’s coming from the livingroom.
Tiptoeing past the crib, I peek out the bedroomdoor.
Dante’s sitting in the armchair, Sophie in his lap. He’s reading her a picture book; from the cover, it’s something about animals. Her eyes are glued to the pages, and she’s pointing and saying her own special Sophie words.
