Chapter 19
NINETEEN
october
PENELOPE
“Halloween is only two weeks away,” I comment from my spot at the register. Dom is in the center of the store, deep in thought while staring at a tablet in his hands. No response.
It’s been a few weeks since he returned from Kentucky, and had I been hoping for answers or comfort upon his return, I would be sorely disappointed.
Dominic simply showed up to the store one day, acting like the last 9 months didn’t happen.
I was in the middle of a conversation with a customer and he didn’t even glance my way as he walked in.
He did greet Grace at the register with some playful banter, which didn’t make me annoyed or jealous at all.
I didn’t catch a break from customers for another hour and then I had to seek HIM out, where he was hiding in the back room, running finances on the computer.
When Dom noticed me standing there, he gave me a warm, cozy smile that I suspect he saves just for me.
He jumped up and wrapped me in his arms, stroking my hair and whispering how much he missed me.
It was a beautiful moment… but did that really make up for him leaving?
Or coming back and ignoring me for an hour?
It’s ten minutes away from closing time and we haven’t had customers in twenty minutes. Dom turns slowly in his spot, tilting his head this way and that as he scrutinizes god knows what.
“I bought us a couple’s Halloween costume,” I lie, trying to get his attention. Still, no acknowledgement. Sighing heavily, I continue. “You’ll be Jack the Ripper and I’ll be your horrifically bludgeoned, bloody victim.”
Dom pauses and glances at me with a smirk on his handsome face. “Sounds disgusting.”
“Ah, so he is conscious!” Slapping the counter playfully, I step around and walk toward him. Quickly, Dom locks the tablet and holds it as his side. He plays it off as he moves in to embrace me, planting a kiss on my forehead, but my gut is beyond suspicious. “What have you been working on?”
He shrugs. “Just taking notes on a few things.” It’s been his standard response since he returned and I’ve given up prying for more information. If he wanted to share with me, he would.
“Of course,” I mumble as I step away. “I’m gonna lock the door and count the drawer. Doubt anyone will be running in the last five minutes with this weather.” A long, loud rumble of thunder emphasizes my point.
Dom just nods and turns back to his tablet.
As I go about closing the store, I can’t shake the hopeless, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My heart is convinced that, despite how well the store has been doing, Dominic is gearing up to sell.
When Gloria first passed, Dom asked for my support as he navigated all the legal issues and all sorts of paperwork Gloria had stored regarding the store.
But now that he’s back, he hasn’t discussed the store with me at all beyond scheduling and deliveries.
And if he does sell the store, what does that mean for us? Will he stay in Prairie Ridge? Will he keep living with me? Sleeping on my couch?
My thoughts continue to spiral and swirl, worse than they did while he was gone. At least when he was away, I told myself when he came home, he’d tell me everything. But now he’s back and I have no answers; we feel farther apart than ever.
An ache continues to build in my chest, similar to the one I felt when Gloria passed.
I’m scared that I’m losing Dominic. I’m spiraling and my anxiety is telling me he’s going to sell the store, leave Prairie Ridge, and leave me.
The pain of my suspicion hurts my heart just as much as when Gloria died.
Even more so, because Dom will still be on this plane of existence, but choosing to leave me, be somewhere without me.
“You ready to go?” Dom sticks his head into the break room.
“Uh, yeah. Let me just—”
“Pea, are you crying?” Dominic steps fully into the break room and over to me quickly. I didn’t realize it but yes, tears stream down my face as I sit at the small break room table. Hearing him use my pet name has me choking back a sob.
“Don’t.” I stand quickly, trying to brush past him, but he catches my arm.
“Baby, shhh.” He pulls me into his arms. His broad, warm hand strokes my hair as he holds me close. “What’s going on?”
I can't answer him. It's been so long since we've been this close, and the familiar scent of him— sandalwood and coffee— only makes my tears fall faster. I feel like I'm drowning in uncertainty.
"Pea," he says again, his voice gentler this time. "Talk to me."
I push away from him, wiping furiously at my face. "Are you selling the store?"
His brow furrows. "What?"
"The store, Dom. Gloria's store. Are you selling it?" My voice cracks as I say it out loud; my worst fear hanging in the air between us.
Dominic's eyes widen, and he takes a step back. "Is that what you think? That I came back just to sell it?"
"I don't know what to think anymore." I wrap my arms around myself.
"You're back, but you're still so far away.
You don't talk to me about anything important.
You sleep on my couch but might as well be in another state.
" The words tumble out now that the dam has broken.
"And I keep waiting for you to tell me your plans, but you just.. . don't."
Something shifts in his demeanor and his face falls with a sweeping expression of disappointment. “I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” he mumbles mostly to himself.
“Just talk to me,” I plead, swiping at more stray tears on my face. “When you don’t communicate with me, I wind up lost in my own mind. Which, quite honestly, is a mess of anxiety, what-ifs, worst case scenarios, and—”
“No.” Dom’s voice is loud, firm, cutting me off.
“No… you won’t talk to me?” Something inside me crumples.
“Jesus, Penelope. No, I’m not selling the store.” Dom runs his hand through his hair, leaving his waves messy and frantic. “Sorry. Fuck. I’m not, that’s not directed at you. I’m pissed at myself right now.”
“Oh.” The word comes out on a choked sob. I’m so relieved at his admission that I don’t even process anything else.
Dom’s hands cup my cheeks, tilting my head to look up at him. “Pen, I mean it when I say I fucked this up. Can you just… can we just get home? And I’ll explain.”
He wipes a final tear from my cheek as I nod.
As we lock up the store, the rain starts coming down.
It’s typical mid-October rain for the midwest, humid and breezy, like summer just refuses to let go of its grip on the weather.
We throw up our hoods and take off at a brisk pace toward the house.
Somewhere along the way, Dom grabs my hand and we start running.
Splashing through puddles, hand in hand, I hear Dominic laughing. His laughter is a sound that sparks warm fuzzies for me. And it’s been so long since I’ve heard it.
By the time we make it to the house, we’re both soaked and shaking with laughter and chills. Carl is slow to rise from his sleepy spot on the couch, but he offers a few yips of excitement at our dramatic entrance.
Dom pulls me down the hall as I shriek, “We’re dripping everywhere!”
“It’s just water!” I swear, the warmth in his voice is enough to keep the chills at bay. He steers us into the bedroom before he lets go of my hand. “One sec, okay?”
Completely bewildered by this man, I simply nod.
Dom walks into the bathroom, flips on the light and a few moments later I hear the sound of the vintage tub being turned on.
Panic shoots through me— I haven’t used that tub since I bought the house.
The contractor who did my pre-purchase inspection warned me the pipes were corroded or something and quoted me a significant amount to get it into working order.
Since then, it’s become a dumping ground for laundry.
“Dominic, you can’t—”
He pops his head out of the bathroom. “I can. We can. Just trust me.”
I really hate when people say “trust me” when a huge ball of anxiety is blocking that ability to trust in my chest. Taking a deep breath, convincing myself that maybe Dom knows what he’s doing, I start to peel out of my wet clothes. I’m down to my underwear when I hear the water stop.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Dom’s gruff voice grits out.
Turning toward him, I’m tempted to cover my chest in a show of modesty.
Even though he’s seen me naked several times.
Even though he’s complimented every inch of my body and worshipped my curves…
he hasn’t in a while. Complete lack of intimacy for weeks in a row tends to make a woman retreat back into timidness.
He steps toward me, his gaze dark and laser focused on me. Not my body, but my face. My eyes. Dom looks at me as if he could eat me, as if he’s been starving these past few weeks, the same as I have.
Dom runs a hand, warm now, likely from checking the temperature of the water, over the curve of my waist. “You did the fun part without me, hm?” He glances at the pile of wet clothes on the floor.
“I don’t know.” With a shaky breath, I find the courage to murmur, “Is that really all the fun there is to be had?”
His hand tightens on my waist possessively and I bite my lip— I struck a nerve.
Without a word, Dom sinks to his knees before me.
He slips his fingers in the waistband of my underwear and slowly peels them down over my thighs.
Dom pauses when my pussy is exposed and his tongue darts out across his lips before he leans forward and presses his lips to me.
It’s a delicate, intimate kiss against my pussy and emotion stings as I hear him whisper, “I’m sorry. ”
“Dom…” But I don’t know what else to say.
He looks up at me, eyes full of hunger but also…
remorse. “I am sorry, Pea.” I open my mouth to respond but he shakes his head.
“Let’s get you out of these. The first surprise is in there.
” He jerks his head back toward the bathroom while he helps me shimmy out of the scrap of material… which he immediately pockets.
“Oh!” I can’t help but give him a mischievous grin. “Stealing my panties now, are you?”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He smirks.
Dom gazes up at me, still on his knees, and I feel a powerful sense of desire and control that I’ve never felt before.
His large hands skim up the backs of my legs, pausing on my thighs.
Breaking our eye contact, he focuses on my body in front of him.
Instinctively, I press my thighs together, as if that could somehow minimize them in his eyes.
Tsking, he shakes his head at my movement.
“Don’t do that,” he whispers, his fingers grabbing handfuls of my thighs before he leans forward and kisses the skin tenderly. All over. His lips travel from one thigh to the next, paying special attention to the stretch marks along my inner thighs.
This is not the first time Dominic has gazed at or adored my body, but dammit, it’s been ages since I felt this cherished.
I have to swallow the lump in my throat at seeing the awe in his eyes.
I have to remind myself that Dom’s hands aren’t just squeezing my curves; his fingers are gently tracing my skin, showing it the love and tenderness I too often withhold from myself.
“Fuck it,” Dom growls, suddenly standing and pushing me back toward the bed.
A giggle escapes me at his eagerness. “But the surprise—”
“Fuck it,” he repeats as I lay back on the bed, my naked body on full display while he remains fully clothed. “We’ll get there. But this…” He hovers above me, weight resting on his elbows while his damp shirt and jeans press against my skin, giving me goosebumps. “It’s been too long, Pea.”
Tears form at the corners of my eyes and I nod, causing one to slip off the side of my face. I can’t speak for fear that it might come out as a sob and completely ruin the moment.
Dom brushes the tear away with his thumb.
There’s pain in his eyes as he says, “I got distracted by a lot, for too long. I wasn’t there for you…
physically or emotionally. And fuck, if I could change it now, I would.
But I can’t. All I can do now is be better.
Be the man you need. The man you deserve.
” He pauses, licking his lips and taking a deep breath.
“Will you give me that chance, Pea? To try again?”
With a shaky breath, I shake my head. Dom’s expression shifts to disappointment– confusion– before I murmur, “You never lost your first chance, baby.”
He huffs out a sound of relief before burying his face in my neck. “Thank god,” he mumbles. As he pulls back, he caresses my face, thumb trailing over my lips. “Do you like me, Pea?”
The memory of our childhood whispers floods me with all of the emotions– joy, excitement, nostalgia… desire.
“Yeah,” I whisper, wrapping my hands around his shoulders, holding him closer to me. “A little.” I wrap my legs around his waist, writhing my hips to press against the stiff length in his jeans. “A lot.”