42. Dante
Dante
T he very next morning, my wife insisted we get out of bed early and get dressed.
“Why?” I grumbled. “It’s only eight and it’s the weekend.”
Something soft hit the back of my head. A pillow. Instead of throwing it back, I grabbed it, rolled over onto my stomach and put it on top of my head.
“Dante, get up,” Juliette insisted, nudging me back and forth. If I was a frail thing, I’d have whiplash.
“Shouldn’t you be exhausted, wife?” I mumbled.
“Not even close.” I could hear the smile in her voice. So I got rid of the pillow and turned onto my back. I loved her smiles. I wanted her smiles, her laughter, her everything. I stared at her for a moment, my eyes lingering on her face.
Juliette was breathtakingly beautiful, and when she smiled like this, she could bring the entire world down. Her eyes twinkled and my heart skipped a fucking beat.
I was so fucking in love with my wife, but deep in my black heart, I wondered if she’d ever feel a fraction of what I felt.
She hovered over me, her face close and I couldn’t resist cupping it, bringing her closer. The distance between us disappeared and I pressed my mouth to hers.
“We could stay in bed,” I suggested, breaking the kiss. “All day.”
Her smile widened, but she shook her head. “Get up or I swear, I’m gonna sleep on the couch.” Her threat would never come to fruition because I’d get rid of every couch in this house if need be. She wrapped her slim fingers around my bicep and pulled me up. “Now let’s get dressed.”
Ten minutes later, we left the bedroom. Me wearing a three-piece suit and Juliette wearing her signature jeans with her yellow sweater.
Juliette dragged me through the house. When I attempted to shift our path to the kitchen, she shook her head.
“No time.”
I grinned at her excitement. “Time for what?”
“You’re going to ruin the surprise,” she scolded.
“I’m scared of your surprises, Wildling,” I admitted. “Usually they end up in smashed windshields or shut-down casinos.”
She smiled gleefully. “I promise nothing bad this time.”
My wife looked so damn beautiful and happy, it made my heart flutter in my chest. Yes, this woman made a fucking wimp out of me. I wondered if she’d laugh in my face if I got down on one knee and proposed to her properly.
I wanted to slide a ring on her finger because she said “yes” and not because I tricked her into it. But that would mean I’d have to admit to her my wrongdoings, and I feared that would take us two steps backward instead of forward.
“Come on,” she urged, tugging me along. “We’ll be just outside for a bit.”
“Do we need jackets?” She was dressed warm, but the temperatures were in the single digits. A jacket was definitely a must.
She waved her hand. “I’m so pumped up, I’m breaking a sweat. If your fragile body—” She cut herself off, eyes hazed over and traveling over my body. She licked her lips and my dick instantly responded. “Get a jacket if you want it,” she rasped, breathlessly.
Amusement ignited in my chest. “We could go back upstairs.”
She swallowed, her cheeks flushing. “We can’t. He’s waiting for us.”
I shot to attention instantly. “Who?”
She rolled her eyes, a smile playing around her mouth. “So many questions.”
I shook my head. “One second.”
There was one rule I always followed. Never leave the house without a .45. You never knew where and when the enemy would strike. I had no intention of being caught with my pants down, so to speak, especially now that I had my wife to protect.
Heading to the nearby cabinet, I reached inside a secret compartment.
I had those installed all throughout the house and worked only on my fingerprints.
I had seen Juliette handle a gun when Sofia attacked us.
It was obvious she could handle one, but I wanted to ensure she could handle other weapons before I gave her access to all of it.
I tucked the gun into the back of the waistband of my pants. She tilted her head and I cocked an eyebrow, challenging her to say something. Juliette was never too shy to express her opinion.
“I want you to have them work on my fingerprint too,” she finally said. “Or I’ll start breaking them all.”
I had no doubt she meant it. She already smashed through the one in our walk-in closet.
It was still the last thing I’d expected her to say. By the expression on her face, she wasn’t joking either.
“First, we’ll ensure you can handle a gun safely.”
She smiled knowingly, obviously confident about her shooting skills. “I can handle it. You saw me handle it when shooting at Sofia Volkov.”
I tilted my head, ignoring her reminder. Honestly, it fucking terrified me to think of anyone pointing a gun at my wife. I wanted to put her in a bubble and keep her protected.
“We shall see,” I said calmly. “Hopefully they’re better than your thieving skills.”
Her eyes narrowed on me, lightning flashing in her gaze. “You’re going to eat those words.”
The moment we stepped out the door, my steps faltered.
My grandfather’s 1934 Hudson Convertible Coupe was parked fifteen feet away.
It looked like my grandfather’s convertible, but it couldn’t be.
That one still sat in my collection garage, with Juliette’s artwork on the windows. It had to be a replica.
“Where did you find the same model?” I asked. “Even the same color.”
She smiled sheepishly, and despite the cold, her cheeks were red, matching her lips. Her eyes shone in excitement as she tugged me further down the driveway.
“It’s the same car,” Juliette announced triumphantly.
I blinked, my brain too slow. “How?”
She straightened up, a proud expression flashing in her eyes. “I did some research and found an expert in the restoration of antique cars.”
As if on cue, an old man stepped out of my grandfather’s car. He looked to be in his sixties, his silver hair a mess.
“Juliette.” He waved my wife over and she skipped over to him, excited.
“It looks so good, John.” She beamed. “You did an amazing job.”
He chuckled, revealing a few missing teeth. “I was able to find the original parts on the same model cars. Same color too.”
Juliette clapped her hands, then whirled around as she reached him. “So ta-da!” she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “What do you think?”
I was still glued to my spot, staring at her and the car. I blinked, almost expecting the light to play tricks on me.
John laughed. “I think your husband is speechless.”
She waved her hand. “Trust me, John. Dante is never speechless.” Juliette shot me a triumphant look. “He probably can’t believe I was able to pull it off.”
I finally made my way to the car, studying it with a critical eye. I couldn’t find a single fault. Not that I wanted to find one. The thought alone spoke volumes. Especially coming from Juliette.
“I’m sorry I damaged it,” Juliette remarked softly. “I know how much it meant to you.”
It meant a lot to me. But she meant even more. Which made this even worse. Guilt was a fucked-up thing.
“Do you like it?” she asked, insecurity lacing her voice.
I looked up at my wife’s hopeful face and prowled over to her. My hands came to her slim hips, and I lifted her into the air, squeezing her into my chest. She squealed playfully, her eyes glimmering.
“I fucking love it,” I rasped, emotion swelling inside me.
The day this girl set foot in my casino was the luckiest day of my life.
Royally lucky, through and through. Or maybe it was the day in the alley when my life turned the corner and headed in the right direction.
It slowly brought me back to her. Who could have ever known that the little girl who’d offered me her pink scrunchie would one day become the very reason for my existence?
“Do you forgive me?” she asked, cupping my face. “If I knew what it meant, I would have never done that stuff to it.”
John was chuckling next to me, but I couldn’t peel my gaze from my wife. Maybe I was fooling myself, but I thought I detected love and tenderness in her sapphire gaze.
“I’d forgive you anything, Wildling,” I admitted hoarsely. It was the truth. “But this…” I shook my head. “This means so fucking much.”
It was so fucking worth waiting two years. For her. For my grandfather’s car to be repaired.
I had often been tempted to get the car repaired but something always held me back. Now I knew what it was. This.
Juliette leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine.
If only we could have stayed here, in this moment, forever.