Page 48 of Always You
I stand from my chair. “I should go; this was a bad idea. I’m sorry this is not going to work, Dominic. We carry too much pain from our past. It’s been too long… the years and pain has distanced us.”
He jolts up and pulls me close to him. “Mila, no, don’t go, please… Let’s talk about it,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, his gaze pleading. “I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses me repeatedly on my cheek and forehead—his voice quivers with so much emotion.
I pull away from his hold, focus my gaze to his. My heart drops—the sight of his expression drawn in agony.
“Dominic, this is all just hard for me. I won’t lie. It hurts to know you had a life. While I was stuck on the other side, I grieved for you every damn day. I-I cried myself to sleep holding a photo of you w-wishing you were here with me… holding me. I looked into our sons’ eyes, and I would see you. I-I-I cried when Dante said Mama because I wanted him to say Dada. I cried when he took his first steps, I wished you could see him, experience it with me. I-I fucking missed you.” A stream of tears skate down my cheeks.
“It maims me to know while I was in pain, you l-l-lived a life. Fucking every woman you could get your hands on. It goddam hurts that you thought so little of me; enough to hate me; to treat me like shit. It p-p-pains me... I-I don’t know you anymore like I wish I did. The w-woman you were engaged to knows you, not me. She had a ring on her finger. She had you.” I hiccup, and tears keep flowing, I’m not capable of holding them in.
Then, with a flicker of my wet lashes, I direct my gaze toward Dominic. A tear runs down his cheek. He swipes it with his thumb before it drops.
“Baby, I wish I could have been there to hold you, to be a part of our son’s life, Mila… Angel, we would have been married by now, I promise you. Please know… no other woman has mattered to me, Mila. It wasn’t like that. I fucked up. I didn’t enjoy it, I promise you. It meant nothing. Samantha never knew shit about me. She didn’t know the tattoo on my chest is of the love of my life. She didn’t know what my favorite color was, what toothpaste I use, my favorite song, how I like my coffee; she knows shit about me. You baby, you know me. I’m sorry for being an asshole with you all these years and thinking wrongly of you. I thought about you every damn day. I missed you, Angel.I missed us.”
He cups my cheeks and kisses the tip of my nose.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers.
I Inhale his masculine scent, enveloping my arms around him, in this moment. I need him to hold me, leaning my head on his chest. The thumping of his heartbeat, the familiarity of our heartbeats beating in unison.Home.His arms feel like home. He rubs his hands up and down my spine.
“Are you all right, baby?”
Nodding. I sniffle. I’m sure I drenched his shirt in tears and boogers.
“Fuck baby, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, Angel.”
Taking a shuddering breath, I lean into him again, needing his closeness.
“Are you okay?” he repeats, running his fingers on my spine.
“Yes, sorry,” I whisper. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Angel. Do you want to eat still?”
“Yes, I’m starving.”
He chuckles. We sit back down.
“So, what’s good here?” I ask, wiping my tears with a napkin. “I really like it here; it is a great atmosphere. I love all the classic car pictures you have hanging up. Aww, and rock band posters, Willie Nelson pictures, and so many.” I scan the room, taking in the homey atmosphere. Log-style chairs and tables fill the space, and a jukebox is tucked away in the corner with its glowing lights and vintage charm. I hadn’t observed the restaurant until now. I Smile when my eyes meet Dominic’s.
He studies me with a piercing scrutiny. He shifts his chair closer to mine. Dominic leans into me, his hand caressing my cheek, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear. His voice breaks in a husky whisper, “Everything is wonderful, baby; I made the menu.”
A feverish chill tingles down my lady bits. He’s so close, I can feel his hot breath. His lips brush my ear, trailing kisses behind my ear down to my collarbone. My breath quickens at the touch of his soft lips. I am aware I need to guard my heart and resist giving in right away. I can’t get hurt. My life has been tangled with complexities.
He, though, makes my brain fuzzy. I’ve lost my mental clarity. My heart says yes even though my brain is telling me to back off. Moving my head to the side, giving him more access, I haven’t felt this in so long. His lips all over me, it is nice, besides when he mauled me in the bathroom. He drops kisses to my cheek and on the side of my mouth. Pressing his lips to mine, we hold a stare filled with desire. His lips crash against mine, a frenzied wave of desperate hunger. His hands press firmly against my cheeks as our tongues dance in a blaze of passion. The kiss feels like molten metals brought together, our desire bubbling over, melding us together in one explosive moment. His lips sear against me as I suck on his bottom lip, the heat all-consuming until we have to part to catch our breath. Our lips are glossy, swollen, and red. I lick my lips, tasting him, he does the same.
“Angel, no woman has ever made me feel like you do.”
I take a slow, steady breath to calm my racing heart. I don’t know what to say. My mind is in a confused fog. He sees it in my confused glare.
“I’m going to the kitchen to give them our orders.”
A couple of minutes later, he returns with our order. Two delicious burgers with cheese and bacon, slathered with a secret sauce.
“Mmm, this is so good, so juicy.”
He looks at me with those gorgeous brown eyes.
I ask, “What made you want to be a chef? I know you liked to cook, but I remember you saying you wanted to open your own auto shop.”
