Page 54 of Sweets and Sycamores
“I know,” Dom repeated. He didn’t have to meet this Miranda to know that someone like Allie would never do what she’d done to Sycamore Falls. And out of pure revenge, no less.
“And she’s certainly not Sheila,” Brandon scoffed.
“Don’t.” Dominic inhaled, letting the wave of rage and betrayal pass through him, weathering it so it didn’t flood onto his innocent, big-mouthed friend. “Don’t speak her name in my presence,” he snarled.
“Sorry.” Brandon raised his palms in a peaceful gesture.
The depth of his pain from so long ago was now just an unpleasant memory, but five years ago, that pain had consumed him. He had been stupid and believed the woman who had loved him for seven years would keep loving him regardless of where his job sent him. Dominic had been so sure she knew he would always come back to her.
Instead, she chose a man named Gordon from a couple of towns over, who ran a farm and never had to leave it. Because she didn’t trust Dom enough to always come back.
The easiest way for someone to put a knife in your back is when they’re hugging you.
“Admit it,” Brandon said and pulled him from the dark trail his thoughts had taken.
“What?”
“You like Allie. Or have a little crush on her, at the least.”
Dominic moved his eyes to his friend slowly, making sure the threat was clear in them in an attempt to make him drop the subject. Because there were only so many ways he could avoid saying “Maybe.” Or just “Yes.”
Allie was… She was… She trusted him. Even without his Reading magic, he knew how to recognize a beautiful soul when he found one. But he wasn’t ready to share these thoughts with anyone else.
“Let’s put it to the test.” Brandon grinned. He downed the remaining whiskey in his glass, stood up, and walked pointedly toward a tall, lean form hiding in the shadows.
Allie.
She smiled at Brandon as he approached her, and when he extended his hand, she took it and followed him to the dance floor. The melody changed to a slow waltz, and Brandon snaked his arm around her middle, lifting her left hand and holding it firmly in his palm. The white rose at her wrist caught his eye, the corsagehehad put on her?—
Dominic jumped up and almost toppled the table in the process.
He strolled as if he owned the place to the pair he couldn’t wait to break up. Allie had noticed him, her eyes growing wide. Once he was behind Brandon, he cleared his throat loudly and said, “May I?”
Brandon turned around and offered a polite, “Of course,” but the prick flashed Dominic the biggest smirk of the century as he backed away.
Dom couldn’t care less about Brandon being right once his hands got hold of Allie’s waist. He pulled her close to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck on instinct, like it was their rightful place. He noticed the glimmer of shock at her own bravery and felt her hands slip away like she wanted to take it back, her freckled cheeks blushing a beautiful pink. Dom did not want to lose her touch, so he did something he had rarely done and only for the people who had earned it.
He offered her a smile. Or half of a smile, enough to encourage her to keep her hands in place.
It worked.
Allie settled her arms better around his neck, her fingers gently playing with the short hair at the base of his nape. Her touch was gentle and curious, and it rivaled his attention for the look in her eyes. A look that said so much if he allowed himself to read into it. Instead, he chose to lean into her touch and step even closer to her body.
Allie must have been dreaming. She discreetly pinched her finger behind Dominic’s neck, and the spell wasn’t broken. This was real.
She was dancing with her boss, her body nearly flush against his. Goosebumps erupted across her skin as his thumbs moved lazily up and down her back. His cologne held a hint of delicious mint, and Allie inhaled deeply and tried to ground herself in it. The desire to move her hands across his arms and chest as Anna had done so leisurely was strong, and Allie almost gave in before Dominic spoke.
“I need to ask you something,” Dom said, his teal-colored eyes drilling into her.Need to, notwant to.She was curious about the thought that had his features change from that perfect half-smile he’d just shown her into this dark curiosity, so she nodded. “Do you…” A muscle ticked in his jaw. He cleared his throat and looked away from her for a second before his eyes came back to hers. “Do you have a tattoo?”
Allie paused her rhythmic swaying and stared open-mouthed at her boss. Hehadseen something when the cursed dress lifted up her thigh in the van. She thought she might have seen his eyes wander, but wrote it off as her imagination running wild.
But why did he look…at her legs? Enough to notice the black edges of her thigh tattoo. Did he…
No.
But what if…
Hm.
