Page 80 of Shattered Chords

“She’s lucky to have you.” Dark undertones filled Dante’s voice.

He dropped his gaze to the sizzling beef, giving me a chance to openly study him. He’d taken off his top, his ink now on full display, and I was acutely aware of his body, its closeness and its dark allure. Although not as big and muscular as Malik, he cut a very nice figure. His frame was elegantly lean, and taut muscles ran the length of his stomach, chest, and arms, rolling and tightening beneath his olive skin every time he moved.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “For what you’re doing.”

Dante looked up at me, the reflection of the sun sliding across the surface of his sunglasses. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt them on me, nonetheless. His hidden stare set something off in my core. Heat blasted through me, wrapping around me from the inside out like a thin coat of film.

It was almost as if we were attuned to each other on some subconscious level.

Dante cleared his throat. “I’m happy to continue working with Ally. That was our agreement, wasn’t it?” A smirk tipped the side of his mouth.

“I suppose you could say that.”

He returned his attention to the meat to check it, then declared, “Looks like dinner is ready.”

The four of us ate beneath the umbrella, surrounded by the scent of seasoning and freshly cooked meat. Dante tried to rope Yanneth into joining us as well, but she wouldn’t budge. The two had a relaxed relationship. He hardly treated her as a regular housekeeper and that warmed my heart, because it made him even more attractive.

His humility and his humble ways.

And then I remembered that, despite all this glitz and glamour he lived bathed in now, he’d come from a very poor neighborhood. And suddenly, I wanted to know more about his childhood and his teen years. I wanted to know what exactly had pushed him into such a reckless lifestyle. How a person with nothing had become a person who’s seen and done everything.

This need only strengthened as minutes by the pool ticked by. There was music pouring from the large speaker with blinking LED lights that Malik had hauled outside. We played several rounds of Fact or Fiction. No flashcards. First one to raise a hand had priority of giving their answer before everyone else.

Malik was keeping score on a piece of napkin.

Eventually, Dante folded the umbrella and ditched his sunglasses and I allowed myself to steal a glance.

“Eating bananas attracts mosquitoes,” my daughter said from her chaise lounge. Hands flew up.

“Camille,” she gestured at me, refusing to call me Mom.

“Fiction,” I sputtered.

“Correct,” she rolled theRs. “Your turn, Dante.”

He lifted his face to the darkening sky, a deep frown settling between his brows. “Hmmm.” There was a moment of silence, and everything but the buzz of the crickets faded away. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Dante finally said, his eyes returning to me, searing.

Ally and Malik raised their hands simultaneously and I realized that I was the only one who didn’t react to his statement.

“I was first,” my daughter insisted.

“I don’t think so, kid,” Malik protested.

They both turned to Dante and stared, expecting him to choose. Finally, he blinked back his confusion and shook his head once. “Why don’t we go again?”

“You have to ask a different question.” Ally groaned, seemingly upset.

“All right, I’ll think of something else.” Dante grinned, and I wondered if he didn’t want us to know the answer.

We continued with the game for a little longer, until the sun had finally hidden behind the horizon, giving way to pleasantly cool twilight. The air was nice. The wind, however, was still at large, blowing at the spirals of smoke coming from the grill and smattering it across the yard. Even my hair smelled like smoke. Granted, it was a nice, juicy, peppered scent, but that could explain why Snowflake was enjoying my company so much. After devouring three chunks of cooked meat, he nestled in my lap and refused to leave.

“You’re spoiling him,” I pointed out, looking at Dante. “You’re supposed to feed him proper puppy food.”

To that, Snowflake yawned and flopped his head on my thigh.

“I am,” Dante countered. “We had it for breakfast, but he’s not going to want it while we’re eating prime meat.”

“He’s choosing not to discipline this dog at all,” Malik said from across the table. “If he had children, they’d be running wild and take advantage of his lack of any sort of authority.”

---