“Mom! Guess what?!” she exclaims.
“What?” I feign the same enthusiasm, making her roll her eyes at me.
“Dominic said I could take a limo to Madison’s! Oh my god, can I?!” she squeals. I turn to Dom and give him the best death stare I can muster. Underhanded piece of shit. If I say no I’m the worst mom on the planet, but if I say yes he wins. “Pleeeeeaaaseee mom!?” she cries.
“I’m sure Dominic has other things he needs to do, honey.”
“Not at all. My evening is completely free,” he replies smugly.
“Yes!” Allie elates.
“Fine,” I give in.
“How about we take the limo to your house first so you can pack, and then go to Madison’s?” he offers and I swear Allie just died and went to heaven. Her skinny arms circle his waist as she thanks him profusely. Allie darts out ahead of us to jump into the limo and check everything out.
“I never took you for a below-the-belt fighter,” I snip as we head outside.
“I’m not above fighting dirty for what I want,” he murmurs close to my ear. I walk faster to put distance between us. During the ride to the house, Allie thankfully fills the silence with chatter as I sit on the opposite side of the car from Dominic. He answers all her questions and I find myself focused on the way his full lips move when he talks. I snap my eyes shut and shake the thoughts from my head as she flits around the back seat claiming everything is the most awesome thing ever until we pull into the driveway. Hurrying out, I dart inside and furiously throw things into Allie’s bag as she waits in the car with Dom. Once I’m sure I've packed everything she’ll need, I suck in a few deep breaths to steady my resolve. I will not give in to him, I dislike him immensely, I chant repeatedly in my head.
Climbing back into the car I find the strobe lights in the floor are on and Icona Pop’s “I Love It” blaring. Dom is crouched on his knees flailing wildly next to a dancing Allie. The smile on her face is so big I’m worried her face might explode. I crack a smile watching my little girl have a dance party with the masculine six-foot-three handsome man and the chink in my armor expands despite my best efforts. “Mom! Dance with us!” Allie squeals, noticing me. Dom twists around looking like he just got caught stealing. His olive skin flushes with embarrassment and I burst out laughing. I climb into the car, move around Dom and Allie and perch at the divider to give the driver the address for Madison’s. When I swing back around Dom’s gaze--dark and trained on my rear--is anything but innocent. My heart flutters in my chest and I try to distract myself. It doesn't matter. I don't want him.
Madison comes screaming down the steps of her front porch as we pull into her driveway completely mesmerized by the limo. Her mom appears as the three of us exit the car and Madison and Allie talk to each other at the speed of light.
“Hi, Anna,” I greet.
“Clara. This is a surprise.” She nods at the limo.
“Anna, this is Dominic Napoli. Dominic, Anna, Madison’s mom,” I introduce them. Dom shakes her hand and smiles a dazzling smile at her. I’m sure that smile's made many panties drop.
“Would it be okay if the girls took a ride around the block together?” Dom asks. The girls' faces light up at the prospect.
“Oh, of course!” Anna says breathlessly. I nod, unaffected by his charm. The girls titter with delight as they scramble into the limo. Dom instructs the driver to do two laps around the neighborhood and bring them back. The limo backs carefully out of the driveway and as they pull away you can hear the bass pumping from the car. I chuckle to myself knowing they’re probably having the dance party of all dance parties.
“So, ah, Mr. Napoli, how do you know the Lords?” Anna asks politely.
“I met her in one of my clubs and couldn't tear my eyes off her.” He smiles coyly at me. I cross my arms over my chest at his dirty, dirty warfare. Anna sighs and looks to me.
“You’re one lucky lady, Clara,” she giggles until another thought takes over. “Wait. Aren’t you and Sawyer married?” she questions. Most people assume this about us and we haven't bothered to correct anyone.
“We aren't, no,” I explain. Her brows furrow in confusion. “We’ve lived together for almost five years, but we aren't married. Please excuse Dominic, he’s a little overt in his teasing. We did meet at one of his clubs but I’m working on a piece for him.” I smile smugly at Dom. “He’s quite the jokester,” I add. There, asshole, counter that. Dom moves to my side and brushes my hair over my shoulder.
“Touché,” he mutters under his breath close to my ear, sending a shiver of want down my spine. He’s too close. I step away as discreetly as possible, using Allie’s bag as an excuse.
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