Page 60 of Ruined By the Enemy
I’m stranded.
I can’t just walk into the winery and ask for help. If I run into someone who recognizes me, I’ll risk blowing my cover. I can’t ask my uncle to cover for me either, becauseheavenknows he’s the last person I want to talk to right now.
I’m sure he knows where I am. But I don’t care. I’m not ready to hear his excuses.
I push off the bench with a groan, brushing dirt from my palms, and start toward the side path that leads back to the gravel lot. My steps are slower now, feet dragging, the air colder than I remember.
Then I stop when I see someone coming down the path.
At first, it’s just the crunch of shoes on gravel, and then a dark silhouette moves with purpose.
My breath catches as fear slices through me, but the dark quickly disappears as the person steps into the light.
The warm glow from the overhead lamp spills across his face. It’s Dom.
His expression is masked in the dim light, one eye half-shadowed by the soft gold pouring from the old vineyard lantern. At first, it highlights his jaw, pouring over the harsh edges and shading the thin lines of his mouth.
I squint as I exhale.Is he scowling?Did I do something wrong? But as he gets closer, the light seems to shift.
His mouth curves, not flattens, and his brows are lifted slightly. It looks like… worry.
And the cold breeze clinging to my skin all evening softens as he nears, replaced by a strange, reluctant warmth.
“I wasn’t sure how much time you needed alone,” he says, stopping a few feet from where I stand. “But I figured you’d need a ride to the hotel.”
“You came back for me?” Doubt crawls through my voice.
Dom shrugs. “Why would I leave you behind?”
“I—” I shake my head, too flustered to speak. “I don’t know. I remember telling you to leave, so I thought you’d…” I trail off when he moves, closing the space between us in mere strides.
“Was I supposed to stay away the entire trip?” he murmurs softly.
Why does it sound like he’s talking about something else?We’re standing in the middle of a gravel path, surrounded by rows of trees and buildings, but everything’s narrowed down to just him and me.
“No,” I say quietly, too confused to untangle the emotions racing through me. “We’re here for work, after all. I should do my job.”
Dom nods, slow and thoughtful, but his eyes don’t leave my face.
And there’s none of the indifference or coldness I’ve come to expect from him, only something softer. It slips through my thoughts, gathering in my chest with a pressure too familiar and strange at the same time.
“Let’s go,” he says, his voice steady. He turns, and I hesitate, only briefly, before following suit.
Dom holds the door open for me when we get to the car. It’s a minor gesture, but if it had come from someone else, it wouldn’t make my pulse race.
Instead, I find my thoughts spiral into places they have no business going… back to the night when he kissed me.
The first time.
I inhale deeply, counting the seconds as I slide into the passenger seat without a word.
He gets around to the driver’s side, sliding in with a quiet exhale as his fingers curl around the steering wheel, steady and familiar in a way that only unsettles me more.
I keep my gaze fixed on the road ahead, but the subtle tap of his thumb against the leather and the quiet click of the shift beg my attention.
When we hit the curve in the road that tilts my body slightly toward him, I dig my fingers into the chair, pressing my thighs together.
Why?
