I meet his eyes and hold his stare. “You’re going to let me go. And you’re going to walk away first. Because if you don’t, I’m going to knee you so hard you’ll be hurting for a week.”
His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “You could try.”
“I’m not kidding, Dante.”
“Neither am I.”
For another long moment we just stand there, locked in this silent battle of wills. Then finally, he releases my wrist and steps back. But not before I see the hunger in his eyes. The same hunger I’m trying desperately to ignore myself.
He walks away without another word, leaving me pressed against the bookshelf with my heart racing and my hands shaking.
God, I hate him.
I hate how he makes me feel. How even when I’m furious with him, part of me is drawn to that darkness in him.
I stay there for a few minutes trying to get myself under control before heading downstairs.
Rosa is in the kitchen making lunch and Luca is at the table coloring.
“Mama!” He jumps up and runs to hug my legs. “Look what Rosa taught me to make!”
He holds up a drawing of what might be a mansion or a hut. With five-year-old art it’s hard to tell.
“It’s beautiful, baby. Is that our house?”
“No, it’s Dante’s house. See, that’s his room, and that’s my room, and that’s your room!”
He points to various squares, and my chest tightens because he’s calling this place home now. Because in two weeks Dante has given him more stability than I could in five years of running.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”
Rosa looks up from chopping vegetables and gives me a knowing smile. “Dante was looking for you earlier. Something about work.”
Right, and he had me backed against a bookshelf a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, I saw him already.”
Rosa chuckles, seeing how I frowned at the mention of his name. “He’s a good man underneath all that scary exterior. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, a good man,” I say sarcastically.
There’s a knock at the back door and Rosa moves to answer it. A woman around my age walks in with two kids trailing behind her—a boy about seven and a girl maybe four.
“Elena!” Rosa greets her warmly. “Perfect timing. I just made fresh lemonade.”
The woman, Elena, smiles and it transforms her whole face. She’s pretty in an effortless way, with dark curly hair pulled into a messy bun and kind brown eyes.
“I hope we’re not interrupting. Marco said you had guests and I thought maybe…” She trails off when she sees me, then extends her hand. “Hi, I’m Elena. Marco’s wife. You must be Scarlett.”
I shake her hand, surprised by how free she seems. How normal this feels. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”
“These are my monsters.” She gestures to her kids who are already gravitating toward Luca’s coloring supplies. “Sofia and Michael. They’ve been begging to meet Luca since Marco mentioned there was another kid here.”
“Luca, baby, these are some new friends.”
Within seconds the three kids are settled at the table with crayons scattered everywhere, chattering away like they’ve known each other forever.
Elena sits across from me with a cup of coffee Rosa made and just starts talking. About normal things. About how Sofia refuses to eat anything green. About Michael’s obsession with dinosaurs. About the struggle of finding good schools in the area.
