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Ihave my feet up on the sofa, one hand resting on my growing bump as I hold my Kindle in the other. There’s a mug of hot peppermint tea on the small table beside me, and I have nothing to do for the entire day but read. Heaven.
I’m engrossed in my book when a few moments later, a pair of warm, strong hands rest on my shoulders, squeezing gently before he presses a soft kiss on the top of my head.
“Dante,” I say with a smile. “I thought you were busy today.”
“I am,” he says, his lips brushing over my hair. “With you. We’re taking a little trip.”
“A trip? Where? I thought we agreed…? Do I need to pack?” We spent the entire day after our wedding in bed and that was about the extent of our honeymoon. I’d love to have flown somewhere hot and sunny for a few days, but obviously my heavily pregnant status makes that impossible, and Dante is so busy with work that we both agreed to delay it until the baby is able to be left for a few days with Anya, Joey, and Lorenzo.
“It’s just a day trip, kitten. It will be a few hours’ drive though. Sophia has packed some snacks for you in case of any extreme pregnancy sugar cravings.”
I turn off my Kindle and put it on the coffee table. “Where are we going?”
He holds out his hand to me. “It’s a surprise. Come on.”
Excitement flutters in my stomach as I take his hand and his strong fingers circle mine. He makes me feel so safe and secure when he looks at me like that, which is kind of ironic given how we met. “But if we’re on the road for a few hours, I’m gonna need to pee first.” I rub a hand over my belly. “This baby likes to sleep on my bladder.”
He pulls me toward him and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. “Fine. I’ll wait in the car.”
We’ve been drivingfor a little over two hours and despite asking Dante a million questions about what we’re doing and where we’re headed, he has given me no clue whatsoever. However, as we turn off the freeway and head toward Jackson, I sense the change in his mood. He seems nervous, which is unusual for him.
I put my hand on the back of his neck and he turns his head and gives me a faint smile. “Almost there, kitten. You okay?”
“I could do with peeing soon,” I say, regretting the bottle of iced tea I drank about half an hour earlier.
He takes my hand from his neck and dusts his lips over my knuckles. “We should be there in ten minutes. Is that okay or do I need to pull over and let you pee on the side of the road?”
“Ten minutes is fine,” I giggle.
“Good. Because I would hate to have to shoot someone just because they got a glimpse of your ass.”
I give him a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You would not do that.”
“Oh, I would,” he says with a wink.
“You sure you can’t tell me where we’re going to?”
He frowns a little, and I sense a change in him again. “I don’t want any secrets from you, Kat,” he says, his tone serious now.
“Good. I don’t either.”
He nods his head and now I’m even more intrigued about where we’re going.
My curiosity is piqued furtherwhen Dante stops the car outside a beautiful house less than ten minutes later. It’s the kind of house you see in the movies. It has a porch swing, a tree in the yard with a tire hanging from the branch, secured by a thick blue rope. There is a pickup in the yard and two bikes on the lawn.
“Who lives here?”
“Come see,” he says, climbing out of the car before coming around to open my door. He takes my hand to help me out and then laces his fingers through mine as we walk up the path.
Before we get to the porch, the front door of the house swings open and a woman steps out. She’s a little younger than me, maybe, but she has a small child perched on her hip. A little girl who looks to be about two. Both have the same dark curls and dark eyes.
“Dante?” the woman says. She’s smiling, but there’s a note of something else in her voice. Fear perhaps?
My heart starts beating a little faster. Oh, God. Is this child his? Does he have this whole other life that I don’t know about?
“Is this your secret?” I ask him quietly.
“Yeah,” he says, but his eyes are on the woman and the little girl and he’s smiling. Not many people are worthy of a Dante Moretti smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. It was kind of a last-minute thing,” he says to the woman with an apologetic shrug as he squeezes my hand tighter.
