Page 82 of Shattered Chords

“All good, I’m decent,” I shouted and tossed the phone into my beach bag, expecting to see Ally.

The door creaked open and Dante’s form stood on the threshold. A white lollipop stick peeked out from the corner of his mouth. “There’s dessert if you want,” he said simply, but his eyes, dark and riotous, communicated something else, something unstable and erratic.

“Oh.” I shuffled my bare feet against the tiled floor. “I guess I should try some.”

Gosh, this was coming out all wrong. Immature and stilted.

“I didn’t make it, just so you know,” Dante confessed, his gaze dipping to my chest. “I’m not there yet.”

“One step at a time, I suppose.”

“Hah, that’s what my therapist says.” He plucked the candy out. It was bright pink and smelled like cherry.

Tense silence fell, and for the first time since I’d taken off my dress, he let himself look at my body. Really look. With hunger and need that was so strong, goosebumps broke out on my arms and back.

“You’re beautiful,” Dante whispered softly, his words a sensual rasp.

There was a good distance between us, empty space that suddenly seemed like miles and miles of hard stone.

I swallowed.

“It’s a compliment, Camille.” He stepped inside and slowly shut the door behind him, then stuck the candy back in his mouth.

“I’m still not sure how to accept them.” I smiled ruefully, my pulse spiking.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.” He moved toward me with small, slow strides.

“I did. I still am.”

“Good.”

The air inside the pool house vibrated.

“How does it feel to be a year older?” I asked the first question that popped into my head.

Dante shrugged, the candy rattling gently against his teeth. “I can’t really tell. I haven’t been thirty-nine long enough to determine whether I like it or not.”

“Would you turn back time if you could?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on my face, determined. Then he said, “No. You weren’t there.”

Restlessness cinched through me, my blood heating up, my legs shaking. I thought back to my last relationship that was so long ago, and I couldn’t even remember how it felt to be around a man who wanted me. It took me a good minute to fish out the name of that man too.

Steven. A banker who drove a silver convertible and wore suits. Just the way my mother liked them. Clean. Neat. With no baggage and a sizable wallet.

“What is this, Dante?” I asked.

He stepped closer, so close, our breaths met and mingled. “It’s clearly the beginning of something very indecent, Camille.”

“Not today.” The conviction in my voice was absent.

“No, definitely not today.” He drew his lollipop from between his lips, this time slower than necessary, his pink-hued tongue swirling around the leftovers of the candy in a way that had me thinking of other things.X-rated things.

My center ached with desire, and in this moment, I was a bad mother, because I realized that I wanted him too.

Bottom line—it was stupid to continue to deny the fact that we were attracted to each other.

“There’s an event at my friend’s house in a few weeks,” Dante said, holding my gaze. “I’d love for you to go with me. Ally should come too.”

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