Chapter Twenty-Five
Hazel
One new thing I learned about Dante Grassi.
He was an early riser.
I thought I got up at a relatively decent hour, but this was the second time I woke up alone in the bed with the space beside me cool.
I got myself together before making my way downstairs, unsurprised to find Domenico in the kitchen.
Ant, on the other hand, being present was quite the shock.
There was a heaviness to his lids that suggested he’d been up all night.
There was a strip of gauze wrapped around his palm, making me realize he hadn’t walked away unscathed the night before.
He raised that hand to wave at me before he realized what he was doing. Through the gauze, his hand must have broken back open, fresh blood saturating the material.
“You’re bleeding,” I said, starting to rush forward.
“I’m fine.”
“He’s fine,” Domenico said at the same time.
“He’s clearly not. Hold on. Let me get the first aid kit,” I said, rushing away to grab the kit Dante used to clean me up.
“Dante has everything we could need to clean that up. He even has a suture kit. Which we are not going to be using.” I moved a stool in front of Ant, putting his hand on my leg, then cutting off his gauze.
“I’ll stab you with a needle a dozen times, if you want,” Domenico offered.
“Be nice,” I demanded, getting a small smirk from Domenico. “Oh, wow. This is ugly,” I said, forcing my stomach to steel when it flipped. I was glad I was seeing the damage on an empty stomach.
The cut was deep and a little ragged at the edges, the skin dangling.
“Um, I think this actually does need to be closed up,” I said after placing a rag underneath his hand and pouring a tube of sterile saline on the wound.
Digging around in the kit, I found a package of butterfly closures. I had a vague memory of my grandma putting them on my mother’s finger when she’d sliced it while chopping vegetables one night.
“These will work, I think,” I said, opening the kit. “This might not feel great,” I warned, placing the first closure and pulling the skin closed around it.
I worked my way down the whole cut before wrapping it all in some fresh gauze.
“There we go. I think that will be better. Don’t try to pull those off,” I warned, reading the instructions. “And don’t get them wet, if possible.”
Something had Domenico’s attention. Following it, I saw Dante making his way into the kitchen from the backyard.
He paused, taking in the scene, his face unreadable.
“I was just fixing Ant’s hand. It was bleeding,” I said, cleaning up the kit. “You were right,” I added, standing and picking up the kit.
“About what?”
“My first aid kit is pathetic. Everyone should have one like this. I’ll just get out of your hair while you guys talk,” I offered.
Dante snagged me around the waist. “We’re done talking. I’m about to make breakfast sandwiches for everyone.”
“Can I do it?” I offered.
“No egg whites and spinach.”
I made a choking sound that had Dante smiling.
“I think I can hold myself back from incorporating that.”
“Do you want any help?” he asked, taking the kit from me.
“No. I want to cook.”
I wanted to cook so much that I not only prepared the eggs, cheese, and bacon sandwiches, but a side of breakfast potatoes and a towering stack of golden pancakes.
Ant ate like a starving man. True, he might not have had a chance to eat since before work last night. I had no idea what kind of questioning the Family had to put them through. I suspected, though, that the hunger was more about the comfort of a home-cooked meal.
Eventually, Domenico and Ant cleared out.
“Thanks for fixing my hand,” Ant said with a wave.
“Thanks for saving my life.”
Dante loaded the dishwasher while I grabbed another cup of coffee.
I’d just had my first sip when he came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my center, and his head resting on my shoulder.
“I haven’t had a woman cook for me before,” he admitted.
“Now I know that’s a lie.”
“Outside of my family,” he clarified. “I liked it.”
“I had to eat the one funky first pancake so you didn’t see it,” I admitted.
His chuckle moved through me too. “We all make a funky first pancake. They all taste the same. How are you feeling?”
“You mean from the baby pinprick in my neck?” I asked. When it came to injuries, my bruised shoulders from the last attack hurt more than that.
“I meant from everything. Now that you’ve had a chance to wrap your head around it all.”
“Can I tell you something without you thinking I’m crazy?”
“Sure.”
“When I came back into the haunted house and Ant was there… and the body was there…”
“Yeah?” he prompted when I fell silent.
“I felt like I belonged.”
“Belonged?”
“Like I was part of your world. Like there was no reason you could tell me I couldn’t understand or wouldn’t be comfortable with it. I was there and I understood it and I felt like it was right.”
Dante spun me, his eyes deep.
“It was never that you didn’t belong, Hazel. I just didn’t want to ask you to be willing to be a part of a life of possible violence and uncertainty. Though, to be fair, most of the women never see a dead body.”
“I guess I’m screwing up that average, seeing two of them.”
“You don’t have to make light of it.”
“I’m not. I mean, I guess I am. But I’m strangely okay with it. I mean, it wasn’t like someone got killed for no reason. He had a knife to my throat. And if he’d succeeded in kidnapping me or getting the account number out of me, there was no way he was going to let me go. I knew who he was.”
“That’s true. I still wish I could have protected you from that.”
“I know you do. But I’m okay. Really.”
“I see that. And as much as I didn’t like seeing you in my world—because it’s not something you should have to see—I have to admit that I liked knowing that you could handle the worst of the worst.”
“I know this is all new and—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he cut me off. “It might be new, but I’ve had a feeling there was something here almost from the jump. And every time we’ve been together since has only reinforced that.”
“I feel the same way.”
“I may or may not have had the car parked at Famiglia because I didn’t want you to leave,” he admitted.
“I was glad it was missing because I didn’t want to have to offer to go.”
“Well, you don’t want to go. I don’t want you to go. So, you’re staying.”
“I might need some more clothes. And to check on my shrimp.”
“Shrimp, huh? Interesting first pet.”
“I mean, they don’t actually need any care. I got them so I didn’t feel so alone.”
“You’re not alone anymore,” he said, pulling me flush against him. “Though I have been wanting a dog for a while.”
“I love dogs. And we could totally bring him or her to the garden center so they are never alone.”
“Santa hat for the winter wonderland.”
“Costume for the fall season…”
“Ma is going to love this,” he said, shaking his head.
“She’s never going to hang up her matchmaking crown now,” I agreed. “Did you hear she’s going on that date Valley set up, though?”
“I didn’t. But maybe it will give us some privacy.”
“And what would we need privacy for?” I teased.
“Oh, I can think of a few things,” he said, hands slipping down my spine to my ass, sinking in, and dragging me against him. He was already straining.
A soft whimper escaped me as Dante shifted me to the side and started to walk me backward through the kitchen, down the hall, then into the living room.
He dropped down onto the couch, moving me to straddle him.
I dropped down low, feeling the press of him at the juncture of my thighs, then doing a little roll that had my head falling back on a moan.
“You have too many clothes on,” Dante grumbled, peeling off my zip-up to find I had a tee on underneath.
I raised my arms, ignoring the ache in my shoulders, as he leaned up to remove the shirt.
Only to find I also had on a bra.
I smiled at his grumble as his hands went behind my back to work my clasps free.
“Much better,” he said in a sexy rumble when my bra was tossed to the side.
The cool air had a shiver racking my system. But then Dante’s hands were gliding over me, chasing the chill away as the heat overtook me.
He touched, twisted, rolled, licked and sucked until I was rocking wildly against him.
But then Dante’s hands were at my hips, pushing me backward until I lost the press of him, until I had to get to my feet.
Dante leaned forward, sliding my pants and panties down my thighs, waiting for me to step out of them.
Then he was grabbing my leg, setting my knee on the arm of the couch, and running his tongue up my cleft.
He wasn’t toying or teasing. He licked and sucked until my thighs were shaking, until my moans were filling the house, until I was begging him for more.
Dante’s head lifted, then he was grabbing me, turning me, and pulling me to straddle him again, this time with my back to his chest, so his hands were free to roam over me.
As his hands explored, mine slipped between us, palming his hard length through his pants, then working to free him.
As soon as he felt my hand around him without the barrier, he let out a long, low groan. His fingers slid inside me, thrusting wildly until my hips were just as impatient.
Then he was releasing me to slip on protection, then guiding me to lift up then slide down on his length.
We gasped in unison as he settled deep and I leaned against Dante’s chest.
Then we were moving—my hips circling, his rocking up into me.
It was all heat and need as we moved relentlessly toward that edge together.
Then, with a moan and a groan, we came together, bodies tensing.
I collapsed back against him, my thighs shaking.
“You need to stop getting up so early.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, his arm lazily resting on my thighs.
“Because we could have been doing that hours ago.”
“Suddenly, I have the need to sleep in every morning.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“So, what are we doing today once we can move again?” Dante asked.
“Well, I didn’t notice any candy around here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow is Halloween,” I reminded him. “We need candy for trick-or-treaters.”
“Yes,” he agreed, arm squeezing me. “We do.”