Chapter 7
Dante stood and glanced down at the firepit he had erected.
The last of four. He had chosen the perfect location between both his and Marti’s homes, mainly for convenience, and had strategically erected them in a circle around a wide-open area.
Four firepits and several torches would ensure they would not have any unwelcome guests of the insect variety showing up in their area.
He knew Marti would appreciate that. Gathering up the materials he needed had been easy, since everything was close at hand--driftwood of all shapes, sizes, and thicknesses, rocks, and stones.
Earlier that day, he had paid a visit to Main Street, the business district of Wild Rose Point.
After sharing a drink with a few of the guys at the Seaglass Saloon, he had stopped a few paces down at the Water Witch, a metaphysical shop that had been there for years.
He recalled going to the shop with his father a few times to buy the ingredients for making scented fire starter packs.
One of the things Dante and his father did at least twice during their summers in Wild Rose Point was to hold a bonfire on the beach, and Mario would make his own fire starter packs. In addition to beeswax and sawdust, he’d included herbs known to promote focus, clarity, and relaxation.
Dante had watched his father enough times over the years to remember how it was done, and today he had purchased everything he needed to recreate the experience.
He had decided to replace some of the herbs his father often used with ones that would release a more pleasant aroma—such as lavender, a scent that inspired calm and tranquility.
He couldn’t think of a better way to set a mood.
He glanced over to the third house in the community of Lasco Cove.
Yesterday, he had gotten word that the owner had accepted his offer, and within hours, the house officially became his.
That meant after Marti left, he wouldn’t have to share this stretch of beach with anyone else.
Marti would be a hard act to follow. He’d miss her once she went home.
He looked over to Marti’s place. He had been in his kitchen staring out the window when he had seen her leave for Portland yesterday, and he’d been sitting on the screened patio during the late afternoon when she had returned.
He figured she’d had a productive day, if the number of shopping bags she took into her house were any indication.
As he sat at the kitchen table this morning, enjoying his coffee, he watched as she headed for the beach.
Just like on that first day, she wore the same floppy straw hat and carried the same tote bag and beach towel.
Telling himself he was only watching to make sure Edgar didn’t bother her, he saw her spread the towel on the sand, take off her hat to tie her hair back, and remove her cover-up before racing toward the water.
He’d never seen anything more graceful or beautiful.
Dante was so tempted to go outside and join her. However, mindful of their date tonight, he had decided it was best not to wear out his welcome. He would put all his energy into making their date tonight special. Glancing around at the firepits he had built, he knew he was off to a good start.
***
The knock on Marti’s door came just as she slid her feet into the beach slip-ons she had bought yesterday. Unlike the last time Dante had come calling, there was no moment of fear. She only felt anticipation, knowing the person at her door was someone she wanted to see.
For the past two mornings she’d only seen him from her bedroom window as he’d made his way toward the beach before dawn. She loved watching him take his first dive, and then she’d spend the next hour admiring the fluid motion of his body as he moved through the water.
He seemed to be totally in his element in the water.
The muscles in his back, arms, shoulders, and thighs seemed to be in perfect harmony as they correlated with each powerful, rippling stroke in the ocean.
She decided that sitting up in her bed, watching his every movement, was worth waking up for.
At the sound of the second knock, she hurried down the stairs.
She could have easily met him on the beach, but she was beginning to understand that was not how Dante operated.
He admitted to being old school when it came to taking care of a woman, and picking her up on a date and returning her to her door was part of who he was.
Before opening the door, she glanced down at herself. She had known this would be the perfect outfit the moment she had seen it. It was a short sundress that showed a lot of her legs and thighs—probably too much--but she wanted to look and feel sexy tonight. And she did.
Earlier, she had visited the Wild Rose Point History Center, where she’d engaged with several of its interactive exhibits before returning home and taking a long nap. She had awakened refreshed and ready to enjoy an evening on the beach with a handsome man.
“Who is it?” she asked, although the racing of her heart signaled his identity.
“Dante.”
She liked the way he said his name in an Italian accent. To be honest, she liked everything about him. Why couldn’t she have met him thirteen years ago instead of Malcolm? If she had, her life would have been so different.
She opened the door, and he stood there, just as she’d known he would, looking like a sin she’d love to commit.
His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the fullness of his face and masculine features, especially his jawline and nose…
and there was a single small hoop gold earring in his right ear.
It was something she had never seen him wear before, but it definitely complimented both his features and his attire.
He was dressed in a beige short-sleeved, button-up linen shirt with matching linen trousers. The clothes not only accented the coloring of his eyes but did marvelous things to his skin tone.
Her gaze traveled all over him, all the way down to the brown leather fisherman sandals on his feet. It should be illegal for any man to look this good. This level of attractiveness should be criminal.
“You look good, Marti.”
She glanced up from his feet to meet his eyes. Immediately, she saw the heat in his gaze. Obviously, her outfit met his approval
“Thanks. Only that should have been my line, because you look good, too, Dante.” Actually, what he looked like was a devilishly and rakishly handsome badass with that ponytail and earring.
“Thanks. You ready?” he asked.
“Yes, I just need to grab your gift.”
He lifted a confused brow. “My gift?”
She smiled. “Yes. You recall what I said the other night about Nana’s rule? That if we’re ever invited somewhere, we should never arrive empty-handed.”
“You’re not arriving at my place, I’m arriving at yours,” he said, grinning. “Besides, I thought that was just for dinner purposes.”
She tilted her head, returning his grin. “The question of which one of us is arriving is merely semantics. As far as dinner goes… You are feeding me, right?” she asked.
“Oh yeah.”
“Then come on in while I get your gift.”
***
Dante watched Marti rush off toward the kitchen and appreciated the space to pull himself together. He definitely needed to stabilize his senses. He’d been thrown off balance when she had opened the door, and he had seen her standing there, looking good enough to eat.
Suddenly overwhelmed with desire for her, he’d been within two seconds of pulling her into his arms…
when he noticed that she seemed as turned on as he was.
The way she had let her gaze caress his body, sliding from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, had made him realize he wasn’t alone in this.
To know that the woman you wanted, hungered for you just as badly, was an absolute rush.
He loved the dress she was wearing, but damn, it was short. How was he supposed to keep his eyes off her gorgeous legs? And the shoulder straps showed off her toned arms, while the bodice of her outfit complemented the shape of her breasts.
He’d seen her wearing less on the beach, but this was the first time he had seen her in a dress. It made her appear even more feminine…and more seductive. He was doomed.
And he wasn’t the only one who had done something different to their hair. Hers was parted down the center with a chunky braid framing both sides of her face, emphasizing her beautiful features.
“I’m back.”
She returned carrying a bottle of wine. “I stopped by a wine store when I was in Portland. They told me that this is one of Sicily’s best,” she said, presenting it to him.
He took it and glanced at the label. “Nero d’Avola.” He looked back at her, smiled, and said, “Yes, it is. Thank you, Marti.”
“You’re welcome. Now I’m ready to go.”
He placed the bottle of wine on the foyer table and then drew her into his arms. “I’m not. I want to properly thank you for my gift first.”
If that was the excuse he needed to use to taste her, then he’d use it, because he couldn’t wait a minute longer. He lowered his head and, like before, their mouths connected greedily, hungrily, barely in control.
When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he knew that she was all in with this kiss, just as he was. He didn’t understand what it was about Marti’s taste that was so addictive. Or why she felt so good in his arms. It was as if she actually belonged there.
He suddenly broke off the kiss, not believing his mind could conjure up such a thought. No woman belonged in his arms, no matter how good she felt there.
“Dante, are you okay?”
He saw the confusion in Marti’s eyes as she unwrapped her arms from around his neck. She had to be wondering why he had broken off the kiss so abruptly. Reaching up, he gently touched her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“I’m fine. But I think it’s best if we get out of here before we get into something else.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” she asked in a sultry voice.
Was she trying to tempt him? If so, he couldn’t let her. Not now, when he wanted her so badly. What he needed to do was refocus and get back on track, something he hadn’t been able to do since she had opened her door.
Taking hold of her hand, he said, “Yes, it would be a bad thing. You wouldn’t get the chance to see everything I’ve done to prepare for our beach date night. Come on, take a look and tell me what you think.”
A few moments later, with one hand holding the bottle of wine and the other holding firmly to Marti’s hand, he led her toward the beach.