Page 131 of Mourner for Hire
But just as she turns to get in the car, I catch her cheek in my hand, my fingertips dipping into her hair, and I bring her mouth to mine. I kiss her long and hard and feel her body melting into mine. She hums into the kiss, and I’m convinced she will continue to be my undoing.
I pull back. “You’re right.”
“About what?” She breathes out the question.
“Everything,” I breathe. “I am falling in love with someone that is a little fucking weird—” she rolls her eyes, and I rub her cheek with my thumb, gently convincing her to look at me. “But still the best woman I’ve ever known. So maybe I want that. The weird. The questionable. The cryptic. I want the parts of you thatdon’t make sense—the worst and the best. I want your gray skies, your lost memories, your haunted nights, and your bad days. Give me your worst—I’ll take it. And I’ll still think you are the very best this world has to offer.”
FORTY-SIX
VADA
We woundup back at the cottage, twisted in quilts and unspoken promises while the ocean roared outside the window.
Dominic whispers kisses along my bare spine as the morning ocean breeze skirts past the curtains. Goosebumps rise on my flesh, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold of this early October morning or the physical reaction I have to his touch.
I curl into him regardless, letting the warmth of his skin melt into me and making me hum.
“I need to tell you something,” he says.
The idea of a confession rips my mind wide open. I panic with the possibilities.
Illegitimate child.
Broken engagement.
Dead wife.
Will he confess how he wants to kill me? Or worse, his undying love?
I turn over so we’re chest to bare chest. “What is it?”
He stares down at me, his amber eyes swirling with a million different things. He curls his hands around my waist, pulling me tighter, and I shift closer in response.
“The bar is closing, and I’m going back to school.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not. Everyone goes there. They love it. It’s a landmark. It’s?—”
“It was a Hail Mary, Vada. Leonard really hoped I could get it above water. I tried to make it cool—trendy, even?—”
“It is! And I know trendy hipster. I’m from Portland,” I interject, but he continues.
“It barely breaks even, and I can’t keep it afloat and go back to school.”
I swallow.
The money.
The animosity.
The hatred for me and the inheritance I’m stealing from him.
“I’m giving the money back once it all goes through, Dominic. I’m not just saying that to make you not want to kill me.”
The smug smile on my face cuts the impact of my words and he laughs. It starts genuinely—a ripple of relief in the form of humor then drifts to this ache, this force of emotion. “I never wanted to kill you, Vada.”
I pause, holding onto his gaze. “I know.”
He swipes his thumb over my chin and lets it run over my lips. I kiss the pad, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin on my tongue.
