Page 23 of Deceitful Oath

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I tell him, gathering my purse. “But I’m free this afternoon if you want to grab lunch?”

I lean over his nightstand and scribble my number down on a notepad. “Call me around noon!”

I’m halfway to his elevator when I hear him calling for me. I pause, watching him stumble toward me, half-awake. His pantsare unzipped and he’s trying to get a sweater over his head and walk at the same time.

For a second, I feel myself falling in love with him. Then I snap out of it.You don’t even know him.One night of amazing sex doesn’t equate to love.

“God damn it!” he swears, struggling with his clothes. “Your car is on the other side of town, remember?”

Shit. Of course it is. I’m so fucking late already.

“Wait, I’ll drive you.” He finally gets his clothes in place and slips on a pair of leather loafers.

We speed through the empty streets across town, beating the early morning rush hour traffic. Dominic takes speed limits as a mild suggestion and I’m beside my car in less than ten minutes. I thank him, my brain feeling frazzled, and get into my car.

When it starts on the first try, I send a prayer up to every deity in existence. He taps lightly on my window, and I roll it down.

“Sorry I’m in such a rush, but…”

I never get to finish my sentence because he dips his head in and kisses me so deeply that I forget words exist. That hum of electricity pulses in my veins, setting me on fire. I melt into my seat as his soft lips caress mine.

He pulls back with a grin, flashing that dimple at me, and I sigh. “I can’t wait to see you later, Lux.”

I can’t even form a sentence, so I nod and he strolls back to his sports car. Before I abandon my clunker and climb back into his arms, I force myself to drive away.

Thankfully, the warehouse is just across the river and I get to work without any incidents—other than being thirty minutes late, of course.

I’m grateful when the foreman just shakes his head at me and loads up a small cart. There are only a few deliveries today and they seem to be concentrated in my favorite neighborhood. Ifinish up quickly and swing by a local coffee shop, admiring the slower pace of life here.

Glancing at my phone, I realize I still have two hours before noon when Dominic will—hopefully—call me.

Dominic.

I grab my iced latte, thank the barista, and practically float out of the cafe.

The way he just appeared at the bar last night was a stroke of good luck for once. I smile, sipping my coffee, as I remember our playful banter, his deep laugh, and that dimple. I probably look like a giggly middle school girl but I don’t even care.

And the sex, wow.My bad luck didn’t just affect my life in general, it affected my love life too. I had had a string of terrible relationships, boring one-night stands, and abysmal first dates over the years.

Lately, with all my jobs and my determination to get into art school, I’d simply given up trying to meet someone.

I wander down the quaint streets, popping into random shops to browse, while I dream of Dominic Wolf. I imagine us getting married one day, buying a little yellow house somewhere around here, and starting a family.

A family.I freeze on the sidewalk causing someone to bump into me, shooting me a sideways glance. We didn’t use a condom last night. I thank my lucky stars I got that IUD a few years ago, mentally reminding myself to check when it needs to be replaced.

Eventually, I circle back to my car and head home to shower and get ready for the day. The magic of last night lingers around me, shimmering like a golden haze.

I hum in the shower and spend way too long in front of my mirror, trying to choose an outfit. For once, I actually blow dry and curl my unruly hair, making it shiny and bouncy.

Just as I finally settle on a white cotton sundress, my phone pings. It's a text from Dominic.

>>Ready to go, beautiful? I can’t wait to see you.

My heart melts a little and I grin to myself. He’s almost too perfect. God, I hope he doesn’t have some fatal flaw, like being a serial killer or eating chips in bed.

I type out a quick response and we agree to meet at a little cantina in midtown that’s an equal distance from both of us. I float down the stairs in my cotton candy cloud daze, smiling from ear to ear.

Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into an empty space down the street from Caliente Cantina.

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