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VALENTINA
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask my husband as we step off the elevator into our penthouse apartment.
Thankfully, Ryder took Giuliana to eat and see a movie. I’m always harping on him about spending more time with her now that he’s all grown up. I want my two babies to bond.
Dom’s been quiet since the race ended. He’s a competitive guy and certainly doesn’t like losing, but I wouldn’t have thought that Enzo coming in first out of the three of them would have bothered him this much.
“Fine,” he says and walks through the foyer into the main area of our living space.
We’re fortunate. My husband has made a lot of money on Wall Street, both for himself and his clients, and he likes to provide the best for his family. I still have my dance studio, but only because I love what I do, not because it’s a necessity. The truth is, Dom could stop working today and we’d be fine, but that will never happen. He’s a workaholic, though he did curb some of those tendencies after we got married, then even more after Giuliana arrived.
I watch him walk straight to the bar in the living area and pour himself a drink, a sure sign that something’s bothering him. Rather than pester him about it, I decide to get ready for the gala. Maybe after he’s had a drink and a shower, he’ll feel more like talking.
“How long until we have to be at the hotel for this thing?” he asks as I shed my jacket and set it on the end of the couch.
“We have a few hours. I think I’m going to have a snack before I get ready. I hate going to these things hungry. It always feels like it takes forever for dinner to be served.”
He nods absentmindedly, clearly deep in thought.
“Do you want me to make you something?” I ask, moving into the kitchen.
“Nah. I’m going to get this fucking Santa suit off and have a shower.” He takes his drink with him down the hall toward the master suite.
I frown. I’m not sure exactly what’s on his mind, but I have an idea and I’m determined to turn his mind around before we leave for the event tonight. So rather than having a snack like I planned, I wait until I hear the water turn on, then I head to the master suite too.
The sweaty Santa suit is discarded on the bed and the master bath door is open a crack. Once I’ve stripped off my own clothes, I push the door open and tiptoe into the oversized shower. The shower is big enough that there’s no door on it, so he doesn’t hear me come up behind him—likely because he’s still deep in his thoughts.
He startles when I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my breasts into his muscled back. Then his hands cover mine.
“What has you thinking so hard?” I ask in a soft voice, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
He sighs—I feel it in my cheek that’s now pressed against his back. “Am I losing my mojo?”
I pull my hands away and wind around to stand in front of him. His gaze flickers down my body and his eyelids become heavy. Even when he’s upset, he still wants me. I can’t say I hate it.
“What are you talking about, Dom?” I push some of his wet hair back off his forehead.
“I know it’s the running joke since I turned forty that I’m an old man, but lately I’m starting to feel like it.”
“How so?” I tilt my head.
“I don’t know. Like today, for instance. I was dying by the end of that race, Val. Couldn’t breathe, I was so hot in that damn suit, and my legs felt like Jell-O. I bet you five years ago I could’ve run that without breaking a sweat.”
I give him a look.
“Okay, maybe not, but it wouldn’t have taken the toll on me that it did today.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your mojo. It just means you’re a busy man with a demanding job and a family. You haven’t been training for a 5k.” I rub his arm.
“Maybe, but it’s other things too.” He pushes a hand through his wet hair and it makes the muscles in his arms bunch.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I get tired earlier at night now.”
“You’re a busy man with a lot on your plate. Your job is stressful.”
He weaves his hands around my waist. “Some afternoons, I swear I could take a nap at my desk.”
