As the words penetrated the haze of possessive fury that had just overtaken Dom, his brain started to re-engage.
“Dom,” Luca said, rubbing at his arm. “I’m fine. Really. I think he just wanted us to come see his shop.”
The man gestured with a shaky hand to the cart of vegetables beside them. “I’ll give to you for free.”
Dom slowly began to relax as the words all started to make sense. He removed the knife from the man’s throat and released him, and the guy ran behind his cart. The fear in his eyes made Dom’s stomach twist, and he saw that the commotion had caused the entire market to freeze. He walked over to Luca and looked at his arm, checking that he was really okay. Once he was satisfied, Dom holstered his knife, walked over to the man’s cart, and held his hands up.
“I don’t want trouble,” the man said.
“I know,” Dom said, shame washing over him. This poor man had just been trying to get Luca’s attention, and instead had stepped into a world he knew nothing about. “I apologize,” he said, reverting to Italian. “Please, let me make it up to you. How much for the whole stand?”
“The whole stand?”
“Yes. Have it delivered to Via Besana Moltrasio.”
“Uh…” The man looked at the produce on display, then back to Dom and rattled off a number.
Dom nodded and handed over a wad of cash that had the man’s eyes growing wide as saucers, then he turned to Luca. “Let’s go.”
As they exited the market, Luca leaned in and said, “I don’t understand. What did you end up buying from him? You didn’t take anything.”
Dom’s jaw twitched as he tried to push aside the terror he’d inflicted on the small market just now.
“I took everything from him this morning. So that’s what I bought.”
Luca stopped in his tracks and took Dom’s arm. “Everything?”
“Yes.” Dom gave a clipped nod, wanting to get home now more than ever. “Now let’s go. We have a meal to cook.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
LUCA WATCHED IN amazement as Dom moved through the kitchen like he actually knew what he was doing. He’d only ever seen Dom cook something prepackaged or order directly from a restaurant, so the fact that he was putting dinner together without using a cookbook was pretty impressive.
Luca cut into one of the tomato slices on his plate that had been topped with fresh basil and mozzarella and swirled it in the olive oil drizzled on his plate. It was heaven on his tongue. He’d even be tempted to relive all the events of the last few days if it meant he’d get to eat insalata caprese in Italy for the rest of his life.
“You never mentioned you could cook,” Luca said, forcing himself to set his fork down so he’d still have an appetite for whatever Dom was making.
“I don’t.”
“Obviously you do. Or are you just throwing things together and hoping it works?” Luca pointed at his almost empty plate. “This definitely works.”
“Hard to fuck up a salad.” Dom grabbed the bottle of red wine he’d opened earlier and topped off Luca’s glass before refilling his own. He leaned against the counter and took a long drink, and Luca couldn’t help the way his eyes dropped to the tanned skin of Dom’s throat as he swallowed. Damn, why did the guy have to be so good looking?
“You aren’t very good at taking a compliment, you know that?”
“Is that what that was?”
“See, there you go again. Yes, it was a compliment.” When Dom just stood there staring at him, Luca let out a sigh. “This is when you say thank you.”
“I’m sure it is. But again, it’s pretty hard to fuck up a salad.”
Luca rolled his eyes and hopped off the stool, walking to the stove.
“Okay, so I know we’re having fish, right? The ones we got from the market?”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?”
Luca glanced over his shoulder to see Dom watching him over the rim of his glass. His eyes slowly trailed up over his jean-clad legs to his face. When their eyes met, Luca turned to face him and crossed his arms.