I shook my head, “I do my best work under pressure. No worries. So why don’t you whip us up some PB & J and I’ll go get changed?”
She smiled, “You don’t mind eating sandwiches for dinner?”
I shrugged, “Naw, why not? Pizza for breakfast, PB & J for dinner, why be conventional?”
“You’re amazing,” she said and she was looking me right in the eye. She looked serious. Too serious.
“It might look like that after what you’ve been through, Angel, but you don’t know me,” I muttered and left the kitchen.
As I passed the utility room I saw that the dryer was still going and there were folded clothes and towels on top. Shit. Sarah would have something to say about this, for sure. When I came back out she was finishing putting things away and she’d served up sandwiches.
“What would you like to drink, Ma—Dare?”
“I’ll have what you’re having,” I said and sat down at the island.
She poured two glasses of milk and climbed up on a stool and looked at her plate with reverence. My sandwich was cut in half on the diagonal. Hers was cut into triangles. She closed her eyes a minute and then I saw her mouth an “amen” and then she lifted one of the triangles.
She took a bite and the expression on her face gave me a semi. If her face went like that at a pb&j what the fuck would it look like while she was having an orgasm?
“I don’t rate for triangles?” I teased. I reached into the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup and squeezed a healthy dose into my drinking glass. Her eyes lit up. I squeezed an even bigger glug into her glass and then passed her a spoon.
She blushed, stirred, took a sip of the milk, and moaned. Then she said, “They taste better when they’re triangles. I didn’t know if you’d agree.”
I gave her a grin, “Does something magical happen to triangular food?”
“Absolutely,” she smirked at me and I felt a pang at that smirk. Fuck, she was gorgeous.
She lifted another triangle and the moan that she made as she ate it, her eyes rolling back, it went right to my fucking cock. Evidently I seriously needed to get laid.
But how could I get laid if I was keeping up with my ‘man whore no more’ plan? It’d be complicated to start a new relationship while she was living here, too. What woman who was marriage material would be okay with me having a chick live at my place?
I had to keep her close, though, to make sure that the Kruna scumbags didn’t get suspicious. Maybe I needed to push the no man whore plan out a little. Go to a bar, get laid, get sex off my brain for five minutes. A voice inside me said:
Or maybe just take the angel in front of you. Problem solved.
That voice had been nagging at me since the minute my fingerprint opened that tablet and it was getting fucking louder. It was trying to tell me that I could take her, that taking her wouldn’t mean I was taking advantage, that I could take her and be gentle with her and she’d get healthy and we’d get what we both wanted. For her, safety and knowledge that she was out of the reach of the Kruna scumbags. For me, my beautiful redhead who liked to fuck, who’d never cheat, and who’d give me a family and be fine with whatever life I made for us, whether it was in a world of shady shit or living in the country or moving to Yellowknife to be a bush pilot, or whatever.
But yeah, taking her? How was I any better than my father if I did that? I’d never have a girl who really loved me, only one who was obligated to pretend she did. Forget that shit.
But Tommy did it.
Yeah, he did. And despite how they got going Tia now loved him. Her world revolved around him. I wanted that. I fucking dreamt about having that and unfortunately, those dreams were vivid and before the wedding I’d even had a few vivid dreams about having it with my brother’s girl. But once he slid that ring on her finger and I saw how she looked into his eyes like he was her everything, she starting really feeling like family, thank God. And as far as having another girl fall for a Ferrano boy after being thrust at him? Well…lightning usually didn’t strike twice.
I pushed my plate with the untouched sandwich back, “On second thought, I gotta hit the gym. Be back later.”
Her expression dropped but she quickly recovered and gave me a nod.
I headed to my bedroom and got my workout gear and threw jeans and a tee into a bag with it and headed out. The gym was in the building. Maybe I’d go for a drink afterwards.
** ** **
“Oh, my, Gaaaawd!”
I looked over my shoulder and saw a skanky-looking bleach blonde in fuck-me heels, big hair, and a hot pink tube mini dress approaching me. Aw fuck. Not her.
“Dario Ferrano, slumming it?” Casey was in Debbie’s clique in high school. I was in a bar down the street from my building, post workout. I’d texted Zack to see if he wanted to meet me for a drink, thinkin’ it’d be good to hang with someone who knew the predicament I was in.
“Slumming it?”