“Yep. He’s the best. I’ve worked with this electrical company for a long time because I trust them. I trust Rafael.”
She looks down at the bag of candy, her fingers playing with the edge. “What do you think will happen to him?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. I truly don’t know anything about his immigration status, but even if I did, it doesn’t matter. He’s a good person. He’s livedhere for…I don’t know. At least a dozen years or so, from all the conversations I’ve had with him. I just…”
She looks up at me, eyes round and worried. “You feel responsible, don’t you?”
I shrug, trying to play it off, but I guess I do. This is my site. This is my project he’s working on.
She puts the candy away and stands up, inching closer to me. “It’s not your fault.”
I know that, and yet… “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.”
She curves her palm around my cheek, lifting my face up, her normally angular features soft. “It’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” I rasp, emotion clogging my throat, and she surprises me by wrapping her arms around my shoulders, urging my head down, and I bury my face against her neck. When I accidentally brush my lips over her pulse point, she doesn’t move. So I do it again on purpose, her skin warm and too tempting not to kiss, but she stops me before I can, leaning away. Her fathomless dark eyes roam over my face, and I could get lost in them, searching, learning, drawing out every desire and need.
“Dante,” she whispers, not quite an invitation but not exactly a reprimand either. I press my forehead to hers, our noses brushing, her breath smelling sweet like the candy, and it’s near impossible to stop myself from taking a sip from her decadent mouth.
And yet somehow I do.
I stop.
She wanted me to be professional, and after what just happened, I need to check in with Raf. I need to talk to all the workers. I have a job to complete.
For myself and for her, I wrap my fingers around her upper arms to gently push her back, making room for me to stand up.So close to each other, she’s forced to tilt her head back a bit, and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like that.
With a smile, I remind her, “You left your coffee upstairs.”
She clears her throat, and it’s a small consolation to know she’s not as unaffected by me as she likes to pretend.
“See you later, duchess.”
Chapter 9
Taryn
To say my divorce was contentious would be an understatement. After nearly ten years of marriage, most of which were unhappy, and having two kids, whom he didn’t take much interest in, I thought Craig would sign the papers without a fight. But that son of a bitch fought me every single step of the way. Looking back now, I understand cruelty was the point. He wanted to punish me. Make me spend more money on the lawyer fees, extend arbitration as long as possible, and force me into giving him hours of custody, when in reality, he could not give two shits how often he got the kids.
So it is no surprise when I receive a text that he can’t pick up Maddie, but it is no less frustrating. At least he texted me, as opposed to up and forgetting about our daughter, which he’s done in the past. Straight up left her at McDonald’s when he had a work phone call. He was too busy taking care of whatever the fuck to realize he’d walked to his car without Maddie, not even noticing until he arrived at his office. By then, our nine-year-olddaughter had been left completely alone, scared and crying.
It was the reason I got her a cell phone and therapy.
We’re all in therapy now, but that was the tipping point. I decided I had to stop acting as if he would ever change. He wouldn’t. Even for his own children. I’ve learned to rely on myself—and lean on my family from time to time.
I look up from my work when the front door of The Nest opens to find Ian and Maddie. He tosses his thumb her way. “Found this wandering around outside. Looked familiar. Does it belong to you?”
Maddie giggles at my brother’s teasing, and I usher them both inside. With my arm around my daughter, I walk them to the kitchen, which is newly refurbished and back in working order. “Thanks for picking her up,” I tell Ian as I retrieve the half gallon of chocolate milk from the fridge to pour some out for Maddie. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”
He shakes his head, his focus skipping around the room. “I can’t believe this got done already.”
“I know.” I brush my hand over Maddie’s hair as she gulps down the milk. “Did you finish your homework?”
She nods, and Ian helps himself to a lap around the kitchen. “I helped her with math.” Then he notes, “You even got a new ceiling.”
When he turns his curious gaze on me, I shrug. “Dante does good work.”
Ian smirks. “I bet he does.”