Page 44 of Raging Inferno

When everything was ready, Dom woke Gia and took Major out to do his business. After they ate, they watched television until it was time to get ready for Margy Binder’s funeral. Presley was a good sport, watching Gia’s favorite shows without complaint. In fact, she seemed to enjoy them.

Dom retreated to his room to change while Presley did the same. He dressed in a dark suit with a blue shirt and tie. His shoes were already polished, so he stepped into them. He wasn’t looking forward to the next few hours, but having Presley at his side would make it easier.

Gia was working on the puzzle when he left his room. She waved a hand. “Come help me, Daddy.”

He walked over and kissed her head, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “I will when we get back.”

“I want to go with you.”

“Honey, we talked about this.”

“But I have so much fun with you and Presley.”

“Sweetheart, we’ll be back later and . . . ”

His voice trailed off as Presley walked into the kitchen. His mouth went Saraha-desert dry, and all he could do was stare. She was wearing a black dress that was in no way seductive, but it emphasized her fit body. Heels made her legs look a mile long and incredibly toned. Her blonde hair was down, flowing in gentle waves around her shoulders. Makeup accentuated her blue eyes and creamy skin. How in the hell was he supposed to resist her?

“Daddy.”

He shook his head. “What was that, baby?”

“I said I have fun when I’m with you guys.”

“I know, sweetie. And I’m sorry. We won’t be gone long.”

Amber arrived, and after he reassured Gia they would be back soon, he escorted Presley to his SUV. His knees weakened when he opened her door and caught her scent. “You smell divine.”

“Oh, thanks.” Her cheeks pinkened adorably as she climbed inside the vehicle. He tried unsuccessfully to avoid staring at her legs. “Melody Colton, the wife of one of my coworkers, owns a thriving skincare business. This is one of her fragrances.”

“You wear it beautifully.”

Dom closed her door and his eyes. Good grief. Did he just say she wore it beautifully? He felt as if he was back in junior high, crushing on the prettiest girl in school.

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Presley was acutely aware of Dominic’s presence beside her. She’d stumbled over her feet when she spotted him in his dress clothes. The royal blue shirt complimented his swarthy skin, pearly white teeth, and black hair. His broad shoulders perfectly filled the suit jacket, and the pressed pants hinted at his muscular backside.

Everything about him turned her on.

Presley had lied to him earlier when she said she’d slept soundly. The opposite was the case. Oh, the bed was comfy. No doubt about that. It was her dreams that wouldn’t allow her to rest. They were all vivid and sensual and left her aching and needy. So many times, she’d almost crawled out of bed and tiptoed into Dominic’s room. How she had resisted, she didn’t know.

Dominic parked in the crowded mortuary lot and came around the vehicle to help her out. She appreciated the support since she rarely wore heels. She was shaky and nervous and wasn’t sure she could do this.

Presley dreaded walking inside. Only the pressure of Dominic’s hand on hers gave her strength. It brought back memories of Gwen’s funeral and the overwhelming sadness and helplessness she’d felt during that dark time of her life.

Dominic held the door for her, and as soon as she stepped over the threshold, the sickly sweet stench of too many flowers in a confined space permeated the air, making her nauseous. The scent was the same as Gwen’s wake. She almost turned around and fled. Dominic must’ve sensed her growing panic because hesqueezed her hand. She glanced at him, and he smiled. It calmed her.

She thought of Gia and her comment about Rena smelling like this. It made her sad to know Gia had gone through the same ordeal with her mother. No matter what Gia thought of her, it had to be traumatizing.

The low din of chatter mingled with a mournful tune, which was playing on speakers strategically placed around the room, as they entered the parlor where Margy’s service would take place. God, she hated this.

An older man and woman stood by a closed gold casket greeting visitors. Presley had met Margy’s parents years ago but was sure they wouldn’t remember her. They had aged, as was expected, but the grief clearly etched on their faces made them look decades older.

She and Dom waited in line to pay their respects. When it was their turn, she greeted them by name.

“How did you know our Margy?” her father asked.

“Dominic went to high school with her, and I knew her through my cousin, Gwen Parrish.”

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