Page 45 of Mourner for Hire
Connor’s laugh is immediately swallowed and spit out when Dominic says, “I remember.”
Dominic’s lips twist in a check-mated smile.
“Ah, the reformed nerd,” Connor heckles, and my gaze darts between them. Dunner doesn’t come off as nerdy in any way.
“I wish…” I breathe.
“No, seriously, this kid was a wiz in school. Traded it all in for combat boots so he could just get out of this little town. But it turns out he missed us.” Connor grins wide.
This seems to be common knowledge with a layered history I’ll never be privy to.
I wince. Dominic glares at Connor then turns to me.
“The burgers are delicious here, aren’t they?” Dominic asks, not losing an ounce of artificial sweetness.
I lick my lips and press them together in agreement.
“You have a little something right there?”
His index finger touches his right cheek, and my hand flies to my left cheek. There’s nothing like having a full-blown conversation with someone I just met covered in condiments. I grab a napkin to clean my face of ketchup and wipe it to no avail as he says, “Almost got it. Just… Yeah, right there. A little bit more on the other side.”
My movement slows until I stop completely and simply stare up at him, crumbling the napkin and wishing it was his giggleberries. “What do you want, Dunner?”
“You can’t call me that.”
“Dominic.” I make no attempt to sound like a mature adult when I say one of his names.
“I see you met my friend Connor.” He raises his eyebrows in the air then glances at Connor. “How are the herpes?”
“Fuck off, Dunner,” Connor mutters, seeminglyunbothered.
I don’t break my gaze from Dominic.
“Yes, Frankie is lovely. He was just telling me what it was like growing up with you, Dominic,” I lie.
Connor shoots me a dark glare, and I smile out of the corner of my mouth. He clears his throat.
“Tell me, does Connor get to call you Dunner or Dominic? Just want to see if he falls low on the totem pole and has to call you by your government name like me.”
He lets out a low, condescending chuckle. “Oh, sweetheart, I’d rather you not call me anything.”
I stare at him a beat before humming and saying, “Hmm, your mom told me you’re Dom?—”
“Don’t.” He utters such a simple word, but it’s said with serrated edges that make my chest tighten as I swallow hard.
“Hey!” Connor stands, and the server freezes, mid-pour of coffee at the table next to us, then stands and crosses her arms. “You don’t get to speak to a lady like that, Dunner. I know you’ve been going through it. I know you just lost your mom. But she has every right to be here. Matter of fact, last I heard, she didn’t even ask to be here—she’s just fulfilling your mom’s wishes.”
Steam practically blooms out of Dominic’s ears as Connor—and this town—keeps him in check.
“You’re going to regret this,” he hisses.
I roll my eyes and stand. “You know what, Dunner?—”
“Don’t call me that.” His dark gaze burns down on me, and I pretend it has no effect, but in reality, the heat burns my skin, and my mind keeps thinking back to when I just met him and he was sweet and kind. I think of waking up on his chest and how he made me a toasted bagel and takes his coffee just like me.
“Fine,” I relent. “I’m not here to cause drama. If you ignore me, I will ignore you. And these next couple of months will fly by.”
“Months?” He cocks an eyebrow, challenging me.
