Bonus Chapter Sloane #2
When he emerges, fully decked out in a soft cream sweater that hugs every inch of his chest and a pair of black jeans, I’m back at the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of black thigh-high boots that I know will drive him crazy because I’ve paired them with a dress that stops a few inches before the boot begins, leaving a slightly scandalous amount of my thigh bare.
I feel rather than see the moment he notices my outfit choice.
The air between us turns thick, filled with the same lust that was just swirling around me moments ago.
I smirk to myself as I pretend to adjust the hem of the dress, making the clingy fabric glide up my leg instead of down. The groan Dom lets out is barely audible, but I catch it, and it only makes me more pleased with my choice of clothing.
“Ready?” I ask innocently, moving to my feet. The heels on the boots are high, but I still have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes when he walks up on me.
“Yeah,” he says, words thick with unspoken desire. “I’m ready.”
“Is something wrong, baby?” I place my left hand on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against the rings I wear every day to remind the world of the only men I’ve ever given my heart. My other half and my twin flame. My two great loves.
Dom places his hand over mine, his thumb brushing over the diamond trio. “Nope. Just wondering what other tricks you’ve got up your sleeve tonight.”
“Tricks? Me?”
“Yes, you.” He laughs. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with those boots.”
I stretch out my leg, which makes the dress ride up farther, and glance down at my footwear, feigning confusion as I drag my gaze back up to him. “Wearing them?”
“Very funny.” A sharp smack to my ass has me nearly jumping out of my skin as he ushers me out of the room. “Let’s go, we’re going to be late for dinner.”
The drive across town takes us a little longer than it should because of traffic, but I barely notice because I’m too distracted by Dom’s hand on my leg.
His fingers spread across the sliver of bare skin in a show of possession that has me turned on and annoyed that he managed to use my meager attempt at getting back at him against me.
By the time we walk into the restaurant, with that same hand pressed firmly against the small of my back, I’m wishing I would have just canceled on my dad, so we could stay home.
“Fix your face, angel,” Dom breathes against my ear. “I promise I’ll spend the rest of the night taking care of you.”
“You’re not helping,” I mutter, stepping just out of his reach and adjusting my dress even though it does nothing to help the irritation trickling down my spine.
The soft laugh that reaches my ears as I weave through the tables toward my father’s familiar frame lets me know he wasn’t actually trying to help.
He just wanted to get me riled up one last time before we both have to be on our best behavior.
I blow out a harsh breath and will all of my frazzled nerve endings into submission. Thankfully, they give in.
When he sees us approaching, Dad rises from the table and moves around to pull me into a bone-crushing hug before moving on to Dom.
They do one of those hugs that’s all rough claps on each other’s backs followed by a cute little fist bump that’s full of the paternal affection Dom has never gotten from his dad. It’s really nice to witness.
Once all the pleasantries are out of the way, we settle into our seats and place orders for our drinks and appetizers.
Dom drapes his arm over the back of my chair, his fingertips lightly grazing my shoulder as he gives Dad all the details about his trip.
An adorable mix of pride and interest lights my father’s eyes as he listens to Dom talk, and I smile every time he drops in a little fact about California real estate law and building codes, because I know it means he took the time to look it up when he heard Dom was going out there for work.
He used to do that any time I took up a new hobby or started a new extracurricular activity, find out everything there is to know about it so I would have someone to talk about it with.
It warms my heart to know he would go through that kind of trouble for Dom as well.
I’m finishing off the last of my wine, and on the verge of asking Dad what he needed to speak with us about, when his face turns serious.
The lines in his forehead and around his eyes get deeper, laced with a grimness that can only mean he’s about to bring up my mother.
I haven’t seen or spoken to her in months.
Not since the day at the club when she admitted to taking the note Dom left me and stealing our first chance at happiness.
After Dom and I reconciled, he encouraged me to sit down and talk to my dad.
To tell him the ugly truth about his wife and let him know that her mean streak ran longer and deeper than he ever knew.
It wasn’t an easy conversation to have with him, especially when guilt and regret became twin shadows in his chestnut eyes and his salt-and-pepper brows furrowed in confusion and shame, but I did it.
Because he deserved to know the truth and I deserved to tell it.
Underneath the table, Dom grips my hand, his warm and rough skin anchoring me, keeping me here on earth so I can hear whatever it is my dad is about to say.
Silently, I pray that he’s not about to ask me to forgive her.
That this whole dinner wasn’t the first stop on his “let’s be a family again” tour.
“I’ve asked your mother for a divorce.”
Shock slams into me, forcing all the air out of my lungs and making the little bit of wine still trying to make its way down my throat change course. It gets caught in my windpipe, and I have to cough into my hand several times to clear it out.
“What?”
Dom is rubbing small, soothing circles at the top of my back, and Dad smiles sadly at the gesture. Looking at him now, knowing that seeing us like this probably makes him think about the decades-long union he’s about to walk away from, makes my chest ache.
“Mark,” Dom says, still holding my fingers in a firm grip with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. “That’s a big decision.”
Dad nods, pushing his plate of half-eaten food out of the way and reaching across the table for my hand. I give it to him without question, needing the connection to him, wanting to comfort him even though right now it feels like he’s comforting me.
“Yeah,” Dad says, glancing at Dom and back at me. “It is, but it’s also been a long time coming. Are you okay, Bean?”
“I’m fine.” And I am. I’m not, nor have I ever been, one of those children who is overly attached to the idea of her parents being together.
Them divorcing only concerns me because it’ll be a big change in my dad’s life, and I’m not one hundred percent sure he’s making it for the right reasons.
“Are you okay? Where did this even come from?”
“Your mom and I have been going through a rough patch for a while now.” He exhales roughly, a glassiness taking over his eyes.
I feel him squeeze my hand, and I grip his tighter.
“Primarily concerning her continued lack of empathy for you and what you’ve been through over the past few years.
” His eyes slide over to Dom like they always do whenever Eric is the topic of conversation.
I’ve tried to explain to him that talking about Eric is not awkward for us, but he still worries.
Dom inclines his head slightly, letting him know he’s fine, and Dad looks back at me.
“When you lost Eric, she wasn’t kind to you.
I mean, the way she acted at the funeral just never sat right with me.
I couldn’t understand how she could be so concerned about optics when her only child was hurting so badly.
And it just continued to spiral from there.
I tried to make excuses for her behavior, the way I have always done, but after a while it just became impossible.
” He shakes his head, looking tortured and beaten down.
“She never wanted kids, Sloane. You were a complete surprise for us, and even though I wanted you the moment I knew you were coming, I told her I would support whatever decision she made about the pregnancy. I didn’t think she would keep you, but she was so enamored with the idea of a baby.
The clothes. The accessories. The attention she got from her friends.
For a moment there, she was happy, softer. Then you were born and…”
“She didn’t want me anymore.” The words fall from my mouth, each one burning as it passes my lips. Tears blur my vision. One spills over, and Dad looks gutted by it.
“You have to understand. She never posed a physical threat to you. She made sure you had the best of everything. Nannies, pediatricians, schools. Sure, she was a little standoffish and slow on the uptake when it came to the emotional side of things, but I knew she could be warm and kind. I’d seen it.
I’d experienced it.” His voice breaks. “I should have taken you from her, Bean. I should have never let her near you, and I know it’s too late now, but I’m so sorry for protecting her when I should have been protecting you. ”
“Dad—”
“Don’t tell me it’s okay, Sloane, because it’s not. I failed you in so many different ways over the years, but I’m done with that.”
“But you love her,” I whisper, knowing that it’s true, knowing that his love for her was enough to keep him wrapped up in her spell for my entire life.
“I love you more,” he answers fiercely, and I should probably feel like a horrible person for this, but it feels good to hear him say that. “And I can’t stay with her, not after all the things you told me. I can’t keep choosing her over you.”
“I don’t want you to be alone, though, not because of me.”
“It’s not because of you, angel,” Dom says, and my dad nods his agreement.