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Dominic grunted something that sounded an awful lot like the wordourbefore bending down and planting a deep kiss on Rose’s lips. The second she reached up to thread a hand through his hair, I pulled my seat out from the table, scraping against the floor.
They broke apart slowly, like they had all the time in the world. But when they looked over and saw it was me, Dominic’s back straightened and Rose took a step toward me.
“You can hug me. I won’t bite,” I said when she stopped her stride.
Relief as clear as day washed over her features, and she rushed over to me. She was all warmth, wrapping me in a hug, while I stiffly patted her back.
I was the person who had so much to apologize for. I should have told her where I was going but I just wasn’t thinking. Which was so uncharacteristic it made me embarrassed to admit to it.
After a few moments, Rose released me, walking back around the table to where Dominic had pulled her chair out for her.
They looked so domestic, so comfortable with one another. It was jarring, given the last time I’d seen them in the same room, Dominic damn near bit her head off in anger.
Now they just…looked at each other with kind eyes and smiles that promised secrets.
And because I’d left with no explanation, I didn’t know if I deserved any piece of those secrets. Let alone a hug that was the most comfort I’d had in a year.
I had my hands back on the sides of my own chair, ready to seat myself, when I heard it.
Footsteps. Solid, a little heavy from the clip of thick-soled boots on the floor. Coming from the hallway that snaked around the outside of the left wing, connecting the offices to the dining room.
Lukas.
My stomach dropped, my chest going tight with fear and dread and full body relief at the prospect of seeing him again. My eyelids fluttered, my mind growing hungry to take in every new detail of his face, to see the exact tan of his skin, the length of his hair, the veins on his hands.
I steeled my expression right as the door started to open, plastering the worn-down mask that hid what I felt for him.
Lukas pushed through a second later and my heart stopped.
I never once, not for a second, forgot how handsome he was, but seeing it in person was like a shot to the chest.
I ached with heartbreak and with the absoluteneedto touch him. To run my hands over a chest I’ve only ever felt under a shirt, to smooth my thumbs over the calluses on his hands. To come up with an excuse to trace his short beard and jaw with my fingers.
He stopped for a second when he saw me, looking me up and down in two swift passes and making my stomach erupt with butterflies. If I didn’t know him better, that perusal could have been mistaken for quiet attraction, but he was observant. He was likely cataloging any changes in my appearance.
I certainly was doing the same with him, only a few degrees of hunger higher.
Lukas was in a white t-shirt that stretched over his chest and arms. Arms that I realized were bigger than I remembered. Like he was working out more. Or harder.
He was in those same tan, canvas boots he always wore, sturdy and functional, damn near impervious to any water damage. Dark pants hugged his legs, tight to his muscles and low on his hips.
Our stares connected and my jaw went slack.
My voice came out raspy, scraping. “Hi, Luke.”
His eyes lost their light. Dimmed like a drop a hundred feet deeper into the sea. “Daphne.”
Not Daph. Not baby. Daphne.
“I don’t like terms of endearment,” I said, pushing a stray hair off Lukas’s forehead as he laid with his head in my lap.
“You would. If someone chose the right one,” Lukas challenged, looking up at me with clear, sea blue eyes.
I shook my head, scrunching up my nose. “Nope. I don’t like any of them.”
He rolled his lips between his teeth, pulling his rich, golden-brown skin taut. “Not evenbaby?”
“Not evenbaby.”
