Page 67 of Mourner for Hire
“Prove it won’t poison me,” I demand.
“No.”
“Yes.” I shove it closer to his stupid, gorgeous face.
He takes a bite.
I do the same, letting the richness of flavors melt on my tongue. “Holy shit. These are what sugary wet dreams are made of.”
He gives me a death stare for three seconds, and then his smile makes its grand appearance. I barely finish chewing before I take a second bite. My belly warms at the sight of his dimples—it’s very obnoxious that a basic human reflex unsteadies my core like this, but alas, I am still attracted to men.
And men, as of late, means Dominic.
Shit.I don’t think I’ve admitted that to myself yet. It makes sense, really. I tripped head over heels for him all those months ago, and now, here I am, adjusting to our awkward situation, his newfound hatred for me, and being haunted by his mother’s ghost. My attraction for him just took the backseat.
I stare at the lines of his face, the curl of his lashes, and the swell of his lips that kissed me once. And now, I’m the lame girl with this unprompted crush on someone who despises me.
Cool, cool. This is fine.
He’s still staring at me, though he’s lost his smile, and I realize neither of us has spoken since the aforementioned wet dream. I’m surprised he hasn’t walked away.
“Do you want one?” I ask, licking crumbs off my bottom lip.
He squints and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hipsand looks out at the ocean, then rubs his forehead before returning his gaze to me. “So, are we good?”
“I am not the one with the problem.”
He scoffs. “Actually, you kind of are. You are the whole entire problem.”
“Oh, God, Dominic. Did someone pay you to make up with me? Was it Marylou? Do you want to join in on the quest to fulfill your mother’s wishes and fix up this shack?” I take a step back and sweep my arm in the air, indicating his mother’s wishes are just beyond the threshold.
He huffs, hesitating. “It’s not a shack.”
I sigh, softening my tone. “I’m doing my best to stay out of your way. I’m sorry I’m… here, existing. But I promise it will be beautiful.”
There’s a flash of grief in his eyes. This unresolved anguish that will never go away because he lost someone important to him. Someone you can never replace, no matter how strong your village is. No matter how tight-knit your community is. There is sorrow you can rest in, but there is also grief you rage with.
Losing a parent is both.
I open my mouth to spew out some bullshit about grief and support, but Dominic beats me to the punch.
“Don’t change things too much, okay?”
Well, that was not at all what I was expecting him to say. “Especially the wallpaper. The roses, she—” he clears his throat to hide his emotion. “It was her favorite part of the place.”
I nod. “I’ll do my best. It’s an important place to you, too,” I realize, speaking the words out loud. “It’s going to be beautiful, and I am going to keep the charm. Trust me.”
“You don’t have to be here long, you know,” he says, his tone almost accusatory.
I tilt my chin up, beckoning him to tell me more.
“If you would just stop gallivanting around town?—”
“Gallivanting? Jesus?—”
“—you could get a lot more of the work done faster.”
“Have you ever renovated anything?”
