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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MELANIE
The apartment where I’d lived with James had a boxy shower that required serious acrobatic skills whenever I shaved my legs. Considering everything that was wrong with that marital misstep in the first place, a lack of bathing space should seem like a small thing. Yet whenever I thought about that confusing and ultimately lonely time in my life, I could still feel the painful strain in my hamstrings when I propped my foot up on the soap dish and scraped away at a hairy ankle with a dull razor.
Anyway, when I was newly single and apartment hunting, I figured that escaping a bad marriage ought to entitle a girl to a comfortable bathtub. And tonight as I eased my body into the hot water, that tub officially became my favorite inanimate object. I allowed my tense muscles to relax an inch at a time as I settled into the lavender-scented bubbles.
Dominic Esposito had been sincere and earnest when he apologized. He swore he’d never touch me again. Maybe he was afraid of a sexual harassment suit or something.
Maybe he just doesn’t want me.
Feeling frustrated in more ways than one, I dipped a fluffy, white washcloth in the perfumed water and then wrung it out slowly, watching the water dribble over my bare breasts. What did I expect Dominic to do, sweep me up in his absurdly well-defined arms and carry me out of Esposito’s restaurant like he was Richard Gere in An Officer and a Gentleman?
Nope, I hadn’t expected that at all. The idea had never entered my mind. Not once.
“Mommy’s so bad at lying to herself,” I grumbled to the cats. Luke and Lando had crept through the open bathroom door and were crouched three feet away from the tub. They watched me warily, two pairs of ethereal, yellow eyes blinking in unison at their batshit crazy human.
On the drive home I had thought briefly of quitting. I pictured confronting Dominic first thing tomorrow and handing over my resignation letter with a flourish. He would be shocked. He would be stunned. His handsome jaw would drop, and his sinful, dark eyes would cloud with dismay. He would probably blurt out something like, “Dear god, what have I done?” or “Don’t leave me, Melanie. I can’t live without you!” as he groveled at my feet.
Or he might just smile with relief and hand me a box so I could pack up my office.
No, I wasn’t quitting. And it didn’t have anything to do with Dominic. I wasn’t quitting because I liked my job. I was good at it. The whole experience had been a welcome confidence boost after being fired from the resort. I believed in the Esposito brothers, and I was proud to be part of their team. Dominic had made it clear enough that he regretted touching me and wasn’t about to let it happen again. I could deal with that. I could be professional. The whole thing was just as much my fault as it was his. Hadn’t I moaned like a porn queen right there in the kitchen?
Fresh waves of lustful humiliation gripped me as I remembered it all. I groaned out loud and sank down farther into the bathwater. The heat felt so good, too good. My body betrayed me, nipples hardening, core throbbing as I conjured a vision of Dominic at his sexiest, when he was sweaty and serious and unshaven. My hand strayed over my belly and then lower, dipping two fingers inside.
Dingdong.
The ringing of the doorbell caught the cats’ attention. They strolled out of the bathroom, probably to go stare at the door. I didn’t know who could be out there at ten thirty at night, and I didn’t care. I was in the middle of something.
Dingdong.
“Go away!” I shouted, gritting my teeth and giving up on pleasuring myself until my unwanted visitor disappeared.
Dingdong.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. Chances were my needy neighbor, Mara, had suffered another dating disappointment and was standing out there with a bottle of wine, searching for someone to commiserate with her. Since I didn’t have any advice for the lovelorn, I stayed right where I was in the bathtub.
Then my phone buzzed over on the bathroom counter. What was this, some kind of damn conspiracy to keep me from enjoying myself for two minutes? It certainly seemed that way. All I wanted to do was get myself off and go to bed. That shouldn’t be too much to ask. But usually the only person who called me this late was my sister.
I sighed and grabbed a large turquoise towel, wrapped it around my body, and dried my hands before irritably picking up my phone.
There was a text. It wasn’t from Lucy.
Are you home?
I stared at the words sent by Dominic. Of course both he and Gio had my number for work-related reasons. Gio would often communicate via text if he had a quick question or some brief news to share, but Dominic never did. Until this moment I didn’t even know if he knew how to text. I hesitated and then answered.
Yes. I’m home.
The air left my chest and my heart stopped when he responded immediately.
Then come to the door and let me in.
My heart resumed beating. Furiously, like a hummingbird’s. It was a good thing the toilet seat was closed because I plopped down and stared at my phone in dumbfounded disbelief.
Dominic Esposito was the one ringing my doorbell.
Dominic Esposito was standing out there in the cool night air, waiting for me to let him in.
