Page 45 of Filthy and the Beast

DAMIAN

The morningafter our second hookup, Enzo surprises me by taking things to the next level.

Dog-walking.

Maybe I’m placing too much emphasis on a half-smile or a tender expression I catch in his eyes. But the old grump doesn’t welcome people into his life, so every shared meal or careful disclosure feels significant.

This whole thing feels significant in ways I’m stilling trying to puzzle out.

“I thought you didn’t let other people walk your dogs?” We’re standing in the garden. I’m already dressed for the day in my favorite overalls and a baby-blue sweatshirt, and Enzo sports his regular black sweats with an old gray jacket.

“I don’t.” He finishes his coffee. “But you can come with me.” He glances down at the dogs. “Maybe hold Petunia’s leash.”

I flutter my hand over my chest. “Why, Enzo. I thought you’d never ask.”

Trying to hide his smile, he grunts. “Come on. We can walk out the back.”

I stuff some treats in my pockets, and Enzo gets the girls ready with their leashes. After we hooked up last night, we kept touching each other while we shared dinner, our feet bumping under the table and my hand finding its way to his bicep on more than one occasion.

This morning, though, that work-sex balance is carefully in place. No affection or gentle caresses. Enzo is a perfect gentleman, I’m glad to see, taking my concerns about creepy bosses seriously.

It’s very good. His control helps me trust him. And kissing me good morning would just confuse things further.

Definitely don’t want that, I try to convince myself.

Enzo hands me Petunia’s leash, and the little brindle pup wags her tail, gazing up at me.

My heart soars. I just love the dogs so much.

“How’s the career search going?” he asks. Homes like Enzo’s fill the neighborhood, which means nothing but gates, stone walls, and massive trees are visible as we walk down the quiet street, away from the main road.

“Fine, I suppose.” Petunia tries to hurry ahead, tugging on the leash, but Mirabelle and Goldie keep perfect pace at Enzo’s side. “Just very slow.”

“Slow?”

“My moms encouraged me to follow through with my plans to audit a class in sex therapy, and that makes sense. It just means I have to wait until next semester, and then I won’t be able to start school until a semester after that. I considered sticking with the job at the gym in the meanwhile, but now I’m thinking I should get something in the field to build experience. Maybe I can tend bar at the sex club? That’s my latest idea.”

Sometimes, Enzo’s face does this weird thing I’m not sure how to describe. Kind of like he’s twitching, but grinding his jaw hard enough that you can’t see he’s twitching, if that makes sense.

I want to hold his hand, but I grip the leash tighter instead.

Finally, Enzo relaxes. “Glad you have your moms to give you advice.”

“Thanks. They’re pretty great. And they offered to help me out with everything, too, the finances and stuff. Although I’m determined to do things on my own. I’m the oldest.” I realize I have no idea if he can relate. “What’s your family like?”

At first, Enzo doesn’t answer. I figure it must be another brick wall, a reminder I truly shouldn’t let my emotions get hung up on him. But after walking in silence for a minute, he talks.

“I’m an orphan. Bounced around between a couple uncles and some government housing when I was a kid, but no family to speak of growing up.”

Oh. His loneliness nearly takes the air out of my lungs. Maybe his loner attitude is less of a choice than I assumed. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t realize. It must have been hard to be on your own so much when you were a kid.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” I’m starting to realize that’s his unconvincing mantra. “Found the boxing gym when I was eleven and started class there. That was all the support I needed. Even found a brother there.”

I brighten. I love when people define family on their own terms, and gaining a brother is a huge relief to me. “Is that who you visit sometimes? Your brother?”

Enzo’s eyes are on the dogs. “He passed,” he says simply.

Fuck.

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