Page 14 of Second Chance Daddy
“Maybe. But there’s something so familiar about them...”
I busy myself wiping down already clean surfaces, desperate to change the subject. “Kids look like all sorts of people when they’re little. People say she looks like the mailman sometimes.”
Tina laughs, thankfully distracted. “Poor kid. Let’s hope she gets your looks, not his.”
She takes another bite of her Danish and casually says, “By the way…” She pauses, wipes powdered sugar from her lip. “…my brother’s back.”
Everything in me stills.
My hand freezes mid-pour.
The coffee mug nearly slips from my suddenly nerveless fingers.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, setting the cup down before Tina could notice the way my hands are shaking.
He’s back. Dante’s back.
After three years of nothing. Three years of wondering where he went, what he’s doing, if he ever thinks about that night. Three years of telling myself I’m better off without him.
Three years of lying to myself.
My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. Heat floods my body—the same heat I felt that night in the parking lot when he pressed me against my car and made me forget my own name.
Get it together, Cassie. You can’t react like this. Tina will know something’s wrong.
I don’t look up. I can’t.
My voice comes out thin. “Since when?”
“Last week. He’s staying for a while.” She grins. “Wild, right?”
Wild doesn’t begin to cover it.
I force myself to meet her eyes, to act like the mention of her brother’s name doesn’t make every cell in my body come alive with want and terror and a desperate longing I’ve been trying to bury for three years.
“He, um...” I clear my throat, hoping my voice sounds normal. “He’s been gone a long time.”
Understatement of the century.
“Yeah, family business kept him overseas. But he’s back now.” Tina’s eyes light up with excitement. “You should see him, Cass. He’s even more gorgeous than before, if that’s possible. All that time away made him... I don’t know, more intense? More dangerous looking? But in a hot way for sure.”
More dangerous looking. Jesus Christ.
My knees nearly buckle. I grip the counter to steady myself, images flashing through my mind that I’ve spent years trying to forget. Dante’s hands on my body. His mouth on my skin. The way he looked at me like I was something precious right before he made me come apart on the hood of my car.
Stop it. Stop thinking about that night. Stop thinking about how good it felt to be wanted like that. To be touched like that.
Stop thinking about him.
But I can’t. God help me, I can’t.
“That’s... that’s great for you guys,” I manage.
“You okay?” Tina asks. “You look a little pale.”
Pale? I feel like I’m on fire.
“Just tired. Long morning.”
