Page 16 of Devil's Last Dance

Damn it, there was that smile again. It was so fucking sweet, and wide, and fucking perfect. He wanted her so badly, but he kept those feelings in check when he was around her. Candice had made it clear she wasn’t looking for anything other than friendship, and the truth was he’d enjoyed the past week and a half with her.

“What kind of food do you have back at your place?”

“As it happens, in my slow cooker, I have totally got some meatballs and the most amazing tomato sauce boiling. It’s a recipe my mom always made. Lots of onions and garlic, and they’re homemade meatballs as well.”

“You’re eating spaghetti and meatballs, why?” It was his favorite dish, and he couldn’t believe she was eating it.

“Ugh, it’s the best meal on the planet.” She moved toward him and grabbed his arm. “Come on, let’s go back to my place.” She started to move down the street, and Antwone followed, keeping an eye like he always did on any potential enemies.

He had no idea how long he could keep Candice a secret, but his intentions were to keep her in the dark for a long time, if not forever. She didn’t need to know who he was or what he did. There was no doubt she’d change her mind about him if she knew, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Did you have a good and productive day?”

Antwone thought about the argument he had with his brother. Draven wasn’t happy with him constantly vanishing at night. He needed time away from all the bullshit to think and be happy. He didn’t need to hear the crap his brother was telling him. Draven had a good life—kids, a family, he had it all—while Antwone had to consider dating a woman who was nothing more than a child.

“It was the same kind of day.”

“Did you eliminate the competition?” she asked.

“Not today. I didn’t need to. Today I got to be the boss.”

“Ooh, that sounds awesome.” She held onto his arm a little tighter and he couldn’t help but glance over and watch her.

She looked so happy, so free. Antwone had never known what that was like. Even when he and Draven had been able to escape their father, they had no choice but to constantly look over their shoulders, waiting for someone to try and end them. It was why they took over.

None of it had been easy for either of them, but they had finally risen to the top. Antwone had thought it was what he wanted, but day by day, he was starting to see it wasn’t quite as fun as he hoped it would be. And he didn’t have much choice in his life. Now that they were arguing about him having a wife, it was far less enjoyable than ever. He didn’t want the bullshit.

They arrived at her apartment and like every other evening, she took his jacket from him, hanging it up beside hers in the hallway. Her apartment did smell good.

“Why didn’t you go for the pancakes?” he asked.

“As much as I love pancakes, and I do, I told you I was going to make a business and all that. I like variety, and besides, when the boss calls to inform you there’s no work, you don’t waste that time. I had ground beef and everything I needed to make the meatballs, and that, my dear friend, is exactly what I did.”

He followed her into the kitchen, and she leaned over the slow cooker after lifting the lid.

“Come and smell.”

Antwone had learned it was easier to follow her commands than to say no. Besides, his mouth watered, and as he stepped over to the slow cooker, he was pretty sure he inhaled heaven. They smelled so good.

She put the lid back on.

“I cook the spaghetti separately.” She hummed to herself, and he did what he’d done the past few nights—sat down at the table while she worked.

She filled a pot with water, and he watched as she weighed out the pasta.

The water still hadn’t come to a boil, so she turned toward him. “What can I get you, tea, water, coffee, wine?”

“Water will be just fine.”

She filled them both two glasses. Candice very rarely drank wine and when she did, it was small bottles, where she didn’t have to worry about the wine spoiling.

“What are you thinking?” Candice asked, taking him by surprise.

Sometimes her questions did that to him. He didn’t know if she intentionally did it, or if this was natural to her.

“Why are you asking?”

She smiled. “You do that all the time. Answer a question with a question. If you must know, it’s what my parents always did.” She shrugged. “My dad would always say that the reason they had a good relationship was because he got to know the way her mind worked.” She pointed a finger to her head. “Mom said the same.” She sighed.

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