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“You could at least try to be helpful, Dante,” she says letting the annoyance creep into her carefully cultivated calm demeanor.
“You know what, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, Amanda. Have a nice day.”
“Dante Moreno, don’t you dare—”
I save myself from hearing the end of that sentence by hanging up the phone and shoving it back into my pocket. I feel a little bad for not being more supportive of the move but I have my own problems to handle. Amanda and I were never really friends, even when we were together. We were just kids filled with lust and hormones. When she cheated and our marriage ended, it had been hard but only because of Bianca. If I didn’t have my daughter, I would have been perfectly fine with never seeing Amanda again for the rest of my life. I can only hope that her presence here doesn’t overly complicate things for me.
FIVE
Violet
After Dante left yesterday to head to one of his job sites, I couldn’t help but feel a little lost. It wasn’t the work. No, that was relatively easy. The job isn’t complicated, in fact, once I get the backlog of work organized it should be pretty easy to keep him on track. I’ve only been in Dante’s house a handful of times before and I’ve certainly never been here alone. I’d like to say that my curiosity didn’t get the better of me but that would be a lie.
I’ve never been overly nosy. With parents like mine, that just wasn’t allowed. My childhood fell more into the category of children should be seen and not heard, and if they could get rid of the seen part too, they would. I resigned myself to sitting in corners quietly reading whenever we would go out or they would entertain at home. I’ve always been the consummate good girl who does what she’s told. But yesterday all that went out the window when I was left alone in Dante Moreno’s house. I filed most of the stacks of paperwork away before heading to the bathroom where I might have taken a quick peek in the medicine cabinet. As expected, there wasn’t much there besides a first aid kit and some aspirin since this seems to be a guest restroom.
When I exited the bathroom, instead of turning left to head back to the office, I went right. The first door I came to opened to a guest bedroom that was mostly filled with stacked cardboard boxes. I hoped that those weren’t more paperwork that needed to be filed that he just shoved in there. Forgoing the boxes, I continued down the hallway to the door at the end. By the process of elimination, I figured that this was Dante’s bedroom. I just wanted a quick peek. I slowly opened the door like I was afraid something might jump out at me and call me out on my snooping.
The room was dark, too dark. There were heavy drapes covering the windows, but I was afraid to turn on the lights, like somehow if I did, Dante would know that I had been in here. I took a few tentative steps farther into the room before turning in a circle and taking in my surroundings.
The room was filled with dark wooden furniture that included a king-size bed against the far wall that was draped in dark blues and grays. There were no feminine touches anywhere, which made me feel ridiculously good. The room was comforting yet masculine. All Dante. Before I could give in to the temptation to sit down and see how soft the bed he slept in every night felt, I made my way out of the room, firmly closing the door behind me.
Now I’m standing outside his front door the next morning in the light drizzle that is Seattle’s signature weather. I debate whether or not to use the key he gave me and decide to knock. I’m not comfortable enough to just walk in yet. Hell, I’m not sure I’ll ever be that comfortable with Dante.
“There you are,” he says, pushing open the door after I ring to bell. “Didn’t I give you a key?”
“You did, but I wasn’t sure if I should use it when I know you’re home. I don’t want to just walk into your house, I want to respect your privacy.”
He waves away my concern and instead of ushering me inside, he slips out the door to join me on the stoop and uses his own key to lock the door.
“Are we going somewhere?”
“Yup, we’ve got to get you someplace to work. The two of us sharing a desk doesn’t seem like it’s going to work.” At the mention of the two of us and a desk, an image fills my mind of me sitting on the edge of the desk with him between my legs, kissing me senseless. I quickly shake my head to disperse the image. How Hollie manages to work for her crush every day I’ll never know.
“I feel bad,” I say as we make our way to his truck that’s parked in the driveway.
“Why would you feel bad?”
“I don’t want you to have to spend money on me. You’re already paying me; I really don’t need anything fancy.”
“Violet, of course I’m going to pay for it. We need it. I’m still getting the better end of the deal here. Yesterday was the first time in months I’ve been able to get out to a job site. I saw what you did when I got home and you’re almost done getting the backlog of filing put away. I couldn’t be happier. Besides, once you get bored of the monotony and quit on me, I’ll still have the setup for the next person.”
“I won’t quit.” He opens the door to the massive truck for me. “I really enjoyed yesterday.” I actually did enjoy the work yesterday. He’s right, it’s not super interesting or exciting but I liked the monotony of it. It was soothing finding a place for everything. He lets out a little laugh under his breath while I examine the best way to climb up into this behemoth while still maintaining some dignity. If I had realized I’d have to scale his truck today, I wouldn’t have worn my favorite skirt.
Just as I’m about to make a jump for it I feel two hands firmly gripping my hips and lifting me into the air. I’m so surprised by the sudden move that I let out a little squeal, but before I know it, I’m settled into the big passenger seat and he’s swinging the door closed, securing me in the cab.
Once he’s in and we’re on our way, I try to think of something to say to break the silence that hangs heavy in the cab but talking never was my strong suit. Instead, I sit with my hands primly in my lap and watch Dante out of the corner of my eye, trying to ignore that I can still feel where his hands held my hips. He has a death grip on the wheel, if the whiteness of his knuckles is any indication. He’s clenching and unclenching his jaw, making it obvious that despite what he says, this is the absolute last thing he wants to be doing right now. I make a promise to myself that I’ll make this as fast and pain-free as possible so we can get back to the house and he can get back to work.
We pull up to the small parking lot of a commercial-looking building that doesn’t resemble the office supply superstores I’ve seen at all. “Is this the place?” I ask.
“Yup,” he says, hopping out of the truck. Before he has time to make it around to my side, I open my door, take a deep breath, and make the jump down to the pavement below. I take a small stumble but am otherwise none the worse for wear.
“Violet,” he barks and sounds angry. I freeze in my tracks. Dante has never used that tone of voice with me before. It shoots a bolt of lust through me and I almost take another stumble. “Don’t do that again. You could get hurt. You need to wait for me next time, understand?”
Between the scolding and the desire, I can’t do much more than nod at him. He gets closer to me and puts a finger under my chin, tilting it up so that I’m looking him in the eyes. If he knew what his touch was doing to my body, he certainly wouldn’t have his hands on me. “Say it,” he says gruffly.
“I-I won’t jump out of the truck again.” My voice is breathless even to my own ears.
“Good girl.”Gulp.He pulls his hand away from me and I almost fall forward. Why is it that I’m always on unsteady footing in his presence?
