Chapter 47
I run my hand down Dom’s arm until I find his hand, then grab ahold of it. This is all making sense now. Knowing Dom put all his big-wig stuff aside just to come meet me again, based on a pretty absurd phone call, is making me fall even harder for him.
“I haven’t seen the inside of any of my vacation rentals in about four years. They’re really just a hobby business of mine that I don’t give much thought to anymore. I have people who handle almost every aspect of my life, so it gets a little boring sometimes. You gave me a reason to show up, completely anonymous, and after that — well, it got a little addictive.” He smiles, unabashedly. “ You were addictive.”
“The second you left, and I walked inside this place for the first time, I was already fantasizing that the guy with the muscles was going to magically find me again after unsticking that door.” I grin back at him. “I can tell your friends really adore you too. Isla and her little girl. Even Rooney. Nobody seems to treat you any differently than anyone else, even though you’re kind of a big deal.”
His eyes drop to the bed, and I notice that he only gets this embarrassed look on his face whenever we talk about something that has to do with him. Like he’s happy to discuss me, my life, and everything else in the world, except how wonderful he is.
“I prefer it like that. I just like people to know me for me. Not for anything the internet says about me. None of that means anything if I’m not surrounded by people that I love. Who I know like me too.” He drags his eyes back up to mine.
“I don’t know what to picture anymore.” I shake my head. “You’re humble, and kind, and full of the most unbelievable talents.” I lean in for another kiss.
He smiles and I grab his hand, rubbing circles on the back with my thumb.
“Where do you live then? I was literally picturing you going home to a tiny little bungalow bachelor pad while living in your brother’s shadow all your life.”
He lies back and looks up at the ceiling fan, laughing at my poor assessment of his life.
“You don’t need to picture me going back to a sad little bungalow all alone. My house is actually bigger than his.”
“Oh.” Bigger than that villa? I can’t even imagine it. “Where is it?”
“Here. On the island, but on the northwestern side. It’s less crowded over there. I helped design the place. I’ll show you sometime, when it’s less under construction.”
“Do you live there full-time, when it’s not being worked on?”
“Most of the year, yeah. I’ve been everywhere you can imagine, but nowhere feels as much like home as here.”
“What’s it like?” I plant a kiss on the back of his hand. I’d love to see something Dom designed.
“It’s on its own bay. No other houses around it. There’s a few groves of pineapple plants and mango trees. Pretty much every type of tropical fruit you can imagine. But the surf right outside the back door has the most incredible waves, hardly any rip. It’s this unbelievable slice of paradise all to myself. I want to take you there, but it’s completely ripped apart right now. My guys hope to have it finished by the fall.”
“I still want to see it.” I lean in for a kiss. “Even if it’s a heap of rubble right now.”
He reaches for his phone and pulls up a few photos of a sprawling estate, nestled into its own emerald bay. Green mountains tower up behind it, and it looks like the grassy grounds are full of tropical plants of every shape and size, similar to Quinton’s estate, but somehow wilder. More like Dom.
“You . . . live here?” I can feel my face turning pink. It almost doesn’t seem real. I thought Quinton’s place was extravagant, but Dom’s estate looks enormous — streamlined and masculine — just like him. Everything Abby found must have been true.
“Most of the year, yes. I also have a few homes elsewhere, but this one is special. Every room is situated in a way to make the most of the view, whether it’s facing the surf in the front, or the mountains in the back. When you’re in the rooms at the top, it almost feels like a treehouse, or something you’d see out of Swiss Family Robinson . Like some boyhood dream I had as a kid, except I made it real.”
I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling fan. Dom is still Dom, but he’s somehow morphing before my very eyes.
How can someone this successful be so quiet about it?
“I was always planning to reimburse you for the reservation, no matter what happened with us or however long you stayed.”
I turn to him. “You really don’t have to do that. What if this thing between us doesn’t work out? Or you decide that you actually don’t like me as much as you do right this second? I made the reservation, and I can still pay for it.”
He watches me ramble on, suddenly quite serious, like he’s confused.
I stop rambling. “What? What’s that look for?”
“People have been trying to get favors out of me my entire life. Yet here you are trying to return a favor that’s virtually nothing to me, but everything to you.”
“It still feels wrong, even if it’s nothing to you.” I can’t imagine a world where thousands of dollars means nothing to someone.
“Then think of it this way. I should have let you go back when you asked. I didn’t, for my own selfish reasons—”
“But I’m glad you didn’t. My soul needed this place, even more than my writing. If I’d gone home, I’d still be pining away over a guy I can’t even imagine being with anymore. Being here has put everything into perspective. You encouraging me to stay is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And not just because it led me to you.”
Dom’s laugh rings out in my bedroom, but I just grin slowly, absorbing the joy as it spreads across his face.
“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Hillcrest.” He kisses me gently. “Keep your suitcase here or a drawer full of socks or whatever. If you’d like. If that makes you feel better. However, I fully expect you to spend any time you want at Quinton’s place with me, at least until my place is done. I don’t want us trying to keep quiet, just so you don’t hear from Rex out of the blue again.”
“You have a deal.” I push him gently onto his back. Then I climb on top of his hips, straddling his steadily growing erection. “Now, how about taking me for another ride before we break into those croissants?”