Page 97 of Bound in Debt
“But you had a mob behind you. You’ve never done this as a solo act.”
Dante’s jaw clenches and he breaks my stare. “Go clean up.”
Another order.
Yeah, this whole moving-in with him thing is going to be a blast.
31
DANTE
Friday, September 20
“Hey.”
I freeze in the doorway of my apartment. I’m still not used to the sound of Victoria’s voice in my space. The woman is always running back and forth to school, or else she’s tucked up on the corner of the couch with her head in a book.
I don’t bother her.
All I do is give her space, reading my own book and looking up at her over my phone while she scribbles furious notes, seemingly forgetting I’m in the same room as her. My place is small, nothing lavish, but it’s clean and in a safe-enough neighborhood. It’s the first place I found that matched my needs when it became obvious I needed to leave the guesthouse. I didn’t bother to keep looking for something nicer. But Victoria never complains about the step down in her living arrangements.
I glance up from my messaging app to see Victoria in the kitchen, her dark curly hair twisted up in a high bun. Stray hairs fall around her face in wispy strands and she blows one out of her way, rubbing her palms over a towel hanging from the waistband of her denim shorts.
“I made dinner.”
Unsure what to say, I close the door and lock it, smelling rosemary and garlic in the air. “What did you make?”
“Gnocchi in a fresh red sauce.” She follows my steps as I get closer. “I added pancetta and mushrooms to the sauce for depth. The gnocchi are like little pieces of?—”
“Potato pasta,” I cut in, lifting a brow at her. “I’m Italian, princess. I know gnocchi.”
Victoria shifts her weight, embarrassed. “Right. Um…There’s also garlic bread.”
“Homemade?”
She immediately frowns. “No.”
A light chuckle rumbles from my chest and Victoria scowls as I round the small kitchen island. “Damn, and that would’ve made it delicious.”
She smacks my chest. “Listen here, Dante?—”
“I can’t wait to try it.” I catch her wrist before she can drop her arm. “Thank you.”
“You hate that I did this.”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“You do. You don’t like receiving anything and?—”
“Oh, I like receiving just fine, princess,” I mutter, running my thumb over the inside of her wrist. “Gagging turns me on.” Victoria blushes wildly as I place a soft kiss on the top of her hand. “Thank you for making dinner. It’s great.”
“You’re welcome.” She glances at the pot simmering on the stove, averting her eyes and getting her bearings back. “I hope it’s not bad. We could order pizza?—”
“I haven’t even tried it yet.”
Victoria presses her lips together and her eyes jump back up to mine with a lift of her chin. “Don’t get too excited.”
“The garlic bread thing was a joke.”
