Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
For once, we didn’t take a driver. It’s nice—just us like any other family in the car. Of course, two cars with guards followed, and Dante’s men did a safety check in the restaurant before he allowed us to enter. But the evening feels exceptionally normal. And that’s special. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.
The sex afterward is tender. Dante takes his time with me. He worships my body in a hundred different ways, spreading me out on the floor because we didn’t make it to the bed, then on the bed, and again in the shower. No wonder I’m sore. But I’m not complaining. I snuggle against him, exhausted but content, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep to be woken just after six in the morning by a knock on the door.
Dante is fully awake in a flash, looking vigilant and alert as he sits up.
“Mommy?” Noah calls from the other side of the door. “Daddy? Can I come in?”
Oh, my heart. Pushing up onto my elbows, I smile through my sleepiness. “He’s learning.”
Dante grins and lifts the covers, showing me his pajama bottoms. “This time, I’m better prepared.” He kisses my forehead. “Stay, darling. I’ll make him breakfast.” Swinging his legs over the bed, he calls, “I’ll be right there, Noah.”
“Oh.” I sit up too, brushing my hair from my face. “I can do that. You have to go into the office early.”
“Go back to sleep.” Dante stands, bends down, and kisses me on the lips. “I kept you up way too late last night.”
A shiver of pleasure runs through me at the memory.
Another knock sounds. “Daddy?”
Dante grabs a T-shirt from the chair where he’s left it last night, no doubt in preparation for getting up for our son. “I’m coming, Noah.”
My heart swells as I watch my husband pull the T-shirt over his muscular chest. He planned on letting me sleep in all along, knowing that I was close to collapsing by the time his sexual appetite was finally sated, and I find the gesture impossibly sweet.
I’m tempted to get up anyway. Dante will be tired too. He works long hours and often continues to work in his office when we’ve put Noah to bed, but I also grant them the time together. I have plenty of hours to bond with Noah during the day. Dante has a lot less of those special moments.
When I finally go downstairs an hour later, showered and dressed in a comfy sweatshirt and lounge pants, Emily is humming to herself while dusting in the lounge.
“Morning, Tiana,” she says with a smile as I pass.
“Good morning.” I stop in the doorway. “You’re up early.”
“It’s age.” She sighs. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Have you thought more about what we spoke about yesterday? I don’t want you to be unhappy. It’s important to me that you feel at home here.”
“I do.”
“That’s good to hear. Please tell me if that changes.”
“I will if you promise to do the same. If you want space, I expect you to be honest with me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” She nods to herself. “That’s settled.”
Contemplating the strange exchange, I continue on my way to the kitchen where I find Dante and Noah in front of the stove. Dante is barefoot, still dressed in the pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips and the white T-shirt that shows off his tan and his muscles under the soft cotton. Noah stands next to him on a stepladder with a spatula in his hand.
A strong feeling of déjà vu hits me. The sensation is so intense that I’m momentarily thrown off balance. The nostalgia is almost painful.
As if sensing my presence, Dante glances over his shoulder. The look he shoots me gives me butterflies.
“Grab a seat, darling. You’re just in time for the house special.”
I pad closer and peer over Noah’s shoulder. “Pancakes?”
“Look, Mommy.” Noah points at the pan. “They have chocolate chips.”
“Mm.” I slip my arms around Dante’s waist and kiss his back. “That does look good.”
Dante switches off the gas and turns around to pull me into an embrace. His voice is husky. “Tastes good too.”
He presses a lingering kiss on my lips that makes my stomach lurch with untimely desire.
“Do you want some, Mommy?”
Dante breaks the kiss and pulls away from me reluctantly. “There’s bacon in the oven.”
He grabs Noah around the waist before lifting him into the air and flying him like an airplane, complete with the noise, to a chair at the island counter.
Noah laughs like only a happy child can laugh, reveling in the attention.
Once he’s seated, Dante serves us. While Noah dribbles an unhealthy amount of syrup over his pancakes, Dante pours me coffee. As I bring the mug to my lips, he pushes a stack of brochures over the counter toward me.
I glance at the glossy booklets. “What are these?”