Chapter 21 Dominique
Dominique
A rush of adrenaline accompanied the knock at the front door at half past six. Although I’d invited Kobe to come over when he was done with work, I hadn’t expected him so early. Never mind that he had spent the previous night in my bed, I was apprehensive at the idea of seeing him again.
This was all so new and unexpected.
In her booster seat at the kitchen table, Cosette used a toddler spoon to meticulously scoop a shredded drumstick and mashed potatoes into her mouth.
She liked utensils and spent a long time carefully moving each bite without the use of her hands.
Regardless, she wore half her meal, but at least a spoon slowed her down.
I rarely gave her a fork anymore since she liked to stab everything on her plate until the tines were overloaded and she almost choked on every mouthful.
The cut green beans from her plate had, not surprisingly, ended up on the floor beneath her chair.
Cosette was sneaky like that. Every time I turned my back, another one vanished, never into her mouth.
She tucked them inside her shirt, under her bum, but more often than not, she pushed them not-so-inconspicuously off the edge of the table.
Three months ago, she had decided that she no longer ate anything green. This decision included broccoli—a trusty old favorite—sweet peas, green beans, kiwi, certain apples, grapes, and even lime Jell-O.
She glanced up from her plate at the sound of the door, mashed potatoes covering her face and glued to her hair. “C’est qui qui est là, Papa?”
I wiped my hands on a towel, shaking my head at her appearance. “Papa’s friend Kobe. He’s coming to visit. How are you such a mess?”
“C’est bon.”
“I’m glad you like it, but stop throwing your vegetables on the floor.”
She wrinkled her nose and peered over the table at her fallen enemies.
I left her eating while I answered the door.
I took an extra minute in the front hallway to compose myself and settle my nerves.
My heart raced with anticipation. We’d crossed a line.
I’d taken Kobe to bed. I wasn’t sure what unsettled me more.
The fact that I wanted to do it again, or the absence of regret and guilt.
I blew out a calming breath and turned the dead bolt.
When I opened the door, Kobe looked especially rumpled.
His tie was askew, and his shirt was wrinkled.
Formal attire didn’t suit him. The unshaven jaw was more his style.
A department beanie covered his mop of sandy-brown hair, but the long ends curled where they escaped from the bottom of the hat, giving him the look of a teenage snowboarder, or something to that effect.
The contrast of personality versus profession never failed to baffle me.
Kobe’s warm, honey-brown eyes creased with a welcoming smile, his dimples carving grooves into his stubbled cheeks. “Hello, handsome.”
“You’re earlier than I expected.” It wasn’t what I meant to say, but it was what came out. His constant compliments threw me off.
Instantly uncertain, Kobe’s demeanor shifted, and he thumbed over his shoulder. “I can come back later.”
“No, no. I didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. Ignore me. Come in. Are you hungry? Cosette is finishing dinner, but I haven’t eaten yet. I thought I would wait for you.”
“I’m starving. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. It’s nothing fancy tonight. This chef took the easy way out.”
“I don’t mind.”
I held the door wide and took his coat once he entered, hanging it in the closet.
When Kobe pulled off the beanie, his hair was wilder than usual. He combed his fingers through it, tugging the knots from the loose curls and pushing them off his forehead. When he let go, it fell haphazardly into his eyes again regardless.
“I’m sure I have wretched hat head.”
“It goes with the season. It’s… cute.”
“Tell that to my boss. I’m waiting for the day she orders Rue to take me to the barber.” Kobe’s shy smile returned, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, rounded his shoulders forward, and rocked on his feet. The posture radiated uncertainty.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one floundering and forgetting how to maneuver the natural rhythm of a relationship.
My god. That was what this was. A relationship.
He’d officially slapped a label on it earlier that day.
A surge of panic threatened to surface, but I shook it off, hoping Kobe didn’t sense my discomfort.
“So, um, hi,” I said ridiculously.
Kobe tilted his head to the side, his eyes creasing with humor. “Hi. Thanks for inviting me.”
“I wanted you here.” More than I could express.
More than my brain and body cared to admit.
Enough, it frightened me. I kept expecting a wash of regret, but it never came.
I waited for guilt to surface and order me to send Kobe packing because this was surely a violation of the promise I’d made to Angelique, but its presence had lessened since the previous night.
Since we’d talked. Since I’d learned more about the handsome detective and his troubled past.
We’d spent the night beside one another. We’d brought each other to climax. Twice. My nerves might be alive and jumping, but it was a positive sensation. One I missed. One I longed for. A welcome change from all the years of suffering I’d endured.
I closed the distance, touched Kobe’s stubble-roughened jaw, threaded my fingers through his thick, untamed mane, and angled his head so he looked me in the eye.
His breath caught. His lips parted, but he didn’t speak. Honey-warm eyes on mine. The December cold radiated off his skin with a scent I was beginning to recognize and associate with him. I liked it. I inhaled it. I wanted more of it.
I stared at his mouth, at his seductive bottom lip, chapped from the winter air, yet enticing me all the same. “May I?”
“You never need to ask.”
I kissed him. Tenderly, like he’d done to me the previous night. I savored his taste and the soft press of his chilled lips against mine. I revisited the silky glide of his warm tongue. The kiss was brief but exhilarating.
A thrum in my heart.
A spark of fire in my veins.
Heat pooled in my core.
When we came apart, Kobe’s exhales fluttered against my mouth.
Neither of us spoke. I could think of nothing to say, and the handsome detective who had somehow charmed his way into my life seemed equally dazed.
Babbling from the kitchen brought us back to earth, and Kobe chuckled. “Wow. You render me utterly useless with that mouth of yours, Doc. I’m curious what else you can do with it.”
I arched a brow. Kobe rarely filtered his comments, and his flirty suggestion was enough to make me shed the last of my nerves.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until later to find out.” I tipped my head in the direction of the kitchen. “I have to take care of the pint-size monster before she escapes her booster seat, scales the counter, and locates the cookies. Singing usually means she’s up to no good.”
Kobe beamed. “Sounds like a girl after my own heart. Clandestine missions to retrieve cookies. Been there more times than I can count. I could offer her some tips.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Not for the first time, I noted the ease with which Kobe accepted Cosette as part of my life. He was never uncomfortable or avoidant when it came to talking about her, and he had even volunteered to be on alert if I headed to the gym in the morning.
I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to leave her in his care—our relationship was brand new—but knowing I had the option, that Kobe wasn’t fearful of being left alone with a toddler meant something.
Kobe followed me into the kitchen, where we found Cosette exactly as I predicted, climbing precariously from her booster seat. Caught in the act of escape, Cosette froze and stared with wide eyes.
I jolted forward to save her before she toppled the chair or crashed to the ground.
“You’re a monkey.” I swung her to my hip and carried her to the sink to clean her up. Sitting her on the counter, I wiped her face and hands as she peered curiously at Kobe, who didn’t miss a beat.
“You said she was a cookie monster, but you didn’t say she was a mashed potato monster too.”
Cosette giggled and tried to hide her face against my chest, but I held her back since she wasn’t yet clean. “Can you say hello to Kobe?”
She offered a shy greeting.
I set her on her feet and patted her butt. “Va jouer. Papa is going to eat dinner with his friend.”
Cosette didn’t move.
Kobe shuffled away from the door, offering her more space. When she still didn’t move, Kobe scooted over another few feet, this time bouncing on his toes while vocalizing each movement with a “boing, boing, boing.”
Cosette giggled, and her reservation vanished. She put on a show, hopping from the kitchen to the living room with a few boings of her own until she broke into song. “Saute petit lapin. Saute, saute, saute.”
Kobe watched her go, grinning. “She’s got a future career in theater.”
Their exchange brought a smile to my face, but the comment was a twisted knife in the gut. Internally, I reeled but forced myself not to outwardly react as I turned to the trays of food on the stovetop.
“Yes. She loves to sing and dance. All day, every day.”
Kobe, ever observant, crossed the kitchen and stopped beside me. The warmth of his attention seared the side of my face, but I refused to make eye contact.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no. It’s nothing.” I spooned giant mounds of mashed potatoes onto two clean plates, intently focused on the task.
“Dominique?”
With a gentle touch, Kobe removed the spoon from my hand, setting it aside. I reached for the tongs, intent on transferring chicken to the plates as well, but he stopped me again.
“Dominique, look at me.”
I couldn’t and stared instead at the crispy drumsticks arranged on the baking sheet. I would need to reheat them. The green beans, too, but Kobe’s presence, his alertness, halted everything.