Page 41 of Red Hot Harmony

“I’m sorry too. You have no idea how much…” That didn’t sound right. I pulled back a little to meet his gaze again. “That’s not what I mean. I’m not sorry that I have Ally. I’m just sorry it was him...and not someone worthy.”

“You don’t have to explain,” he whispered. “I get it.” His palm slid up my arm and around to cup my neck. The rough surface of his skin set off a series of lazy fireworks along the length of my spine.

“Let’s not make a big deal out of it,” I said, trying to erase the last ten minutes of my life from my memory, especially the suffocating smell of Mindy’s perfume.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here, maybe?”

The question hung in the cool air between us, dangerous like a mine in a minefield.

“As in, ditch this party that hasn’t even started yet?”

“Yes.”

“As in, ditch this party your publicist insisted I attend to get out ahead of possible unfavorable publicity that your breakfasting with a fifteen-year-old kid without a proper chaperone could cause?”

Dante closed whatever short distance separated us and murmured against my cheek, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I swallowed, my stomach curling into itself. Around us, minor and major celebs and their teams fraternized with each other, sipping on their drinks and talking about the benefits of donating money to charity. I’d heard someone say “tax write-off” at least twice today, which had only made me wonder, yet again, how many of these guests actually cared about the mission of this particular charity and not about their public image.

“Where would we go?” I asked, my breathing a little shallow and a little fast.

“Did you forget?” He smirked. “I’ve got a house in town.”

“Oh, the infamous driver’s license address.”

I didn’t know how we’d ended up talking about this, talking about going to his place. Either my mind was really in the gutter or we were simply meant to be, because we’d been both thinking about it nonstop, ever since I’d let him sleep in my bed, clothed.

All this week, Dante had been there, at the back of my head, like a benign tumor, reminding me over and over why I was always so careful in my choice of men and why dating as a single mother proved to be difficult. Ally was a major part of this equation, and being with someone not only involved me figuring out how to do the deed discreetly, without exposing my kid to my deviant ways, but also figuring out how to ensure she didn’t get hurt emotionally.

Luckily, we’d already established that she liked Dante and didn’t mind us together. The other part—the logistics of keeping my sex life separate from my motherly duties was a challenge.

Or perhaps I’d made it challenging.

Or perhaps Dante really wanted our first time together to be perfect and a quickie on my couch just to get it over with while my kid was in school didn’t count as acceptable.

Yep, I was overthinking it hard, as Harper would say.

“Aha, the infamous driver’s license address,” Dante rasped out, then leaned in and added in a private for-me-only tone, “There’s a king-size bed.”

“Somehow, I didn’t doubt it. Anything smaller just doesn’t suit you.”

“Anything smaller wouldn't be big enough for me to do all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for weeks now.”

Two very different women battled within me now. One was a mother whose kid was home with a sore throat and the other was a selfish, sex-starved fiend.

“I have to make a call,” I said, putting a little distance between us, my mind racing.

Dante nodded, understanding flashing in his dark, hooded eyes. He was already mentally one step out the door.

“Harper?” I was shouting at my phone two minutes later while in the tiled stall of the venue restroom. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds quite apocalyptic.”

“He asked me to come over to his place…”

“Well, that was expected.”

“Here in L.A.”

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