Page 57 of When Morning Comes Around

When he opened his eyes again, he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “That’s something I figured out over the last few days – since I met you. There is no comparison.”

She swallowed. She could understand that he might feel that way, but did he need to put it quite so bluntly?

“Hey.” He caught her chin between his finger and thumb and made her look at him. “I didn’t mean that the way you thought I did. What I mean is that there’s no comparison between you and Polly because you’re very different people. I’m a different person than I was when she was still here.” He gave her a rueful smile. “And apart from anything else, I’m at a different point in life now.” He chuckled. “I’m getting to be an old man.”

She slapped his arm. “Don’t say that. You’re nothing of the sort. Dad refuses to accept the label of old man, and he’s got a few decades on you. In fact, how old are you? I’ll bet that I’m older than you.”

He gave her a mock indignant look. “You know that it’s not polite to ask, right?”

She laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were so easily offended.”

“I’m not. I’m only messing with you. I’m fifty-eight.”

“Me too.”

“I guessed that you were younger.”

“Thanks, that’s sweet of you.”

“Not sweet, just honest. But speaking of sweet…” He jerked his chin toward the bowl. “You should try that.”

When she tasted it, it was so good that she moaned. Then, she almost choked on it when she saw the way Dominic’s eyes widened.

He met her gaze and burst out laughing. “Jesus! I knew it was good but…”

She laughed and slapped his arm. “It’s amazing.”

“It sounds like it,” he said with a chuckle.

“Here, see what I mean.” She brought the fork to his lips, and he took a taste.

He made an appreciative noise, but he didn’t sound anywhere near as bad as she had.

“It doesn’t do it for you?” she asked with a smile.

“It’s good.”

She realized that he was still squatting next to her chair. If she were in that position, her knees would be killing her by now.

“Do you want to take a seat, and we can share?”

He grinned and sat in the chair next to her. She watched with a puzzled smile as he pulled the bowl toward him. She held out the fork, but instead of taking it, he caught her wrist and tugged.

“I thought we were going to share,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, here’s the fork.”

“No.” He patted his lap. “Share a seat.”

She stared at him, and his smile faded. “Sorry. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

She laughed. “It doesn’t. You took me by surprise, but in a good way.” With that, she got up from her seat and plonked herself on his lap before she had the time to talk herself out of it.

The second his arm curled around her waist, she relaxed against him. He was big, solid. But it wasn’t just the feel of his muscular body. It was something more than that. She’d felt it when he came to rescue her on the hill. He felt like a safe place – and that was something she’d always wanted, yet never found.

He held her to him as he leaned forward to scoop up a forkful of tiramisu. He brought it to her lips, and she savored the taste of it – almost as much as she savored the feel of his body against hers.

“Is this okay?”

---