Page 61 of Love Me Darkly
How many times have you eaten today, baby girl?
Once, she answered, around three p.m.
Unacceptable, he replied a few minutes later. Am I gonna have to come over there and feed you myself?
Melody had only managed a quick reply with a winking emoji, hoping it would be enough to indicate her interest in being hand-fed by the most magnetizing man she’d ever laid eyes on. She hadn’t seen him in two days, but his texts were frequent and filled with concern for her. She hardly knew what to do with such attention, but found herself biting her lip or giggling like a schoolgirl every time he texted. Especially if the message included one of those embarrassingly heart-melting ‘baby girls.’
Pushing through the front door, she let her purse drop off her shoulder and onto a table. Kicking off her sneakers, she crouched to pick them up and made a beeline for the kitchen. She was so busy thinking over whether she would try to scrape together a meal or head to Mateo’s hotel and take him up on his offer that she didn’t register the dark shape lurking in her living room until it shifted and started moving toward her.
Melody gasped, dropping her sneakers and backpedaling into the kitchen, slapping around for the light switch. Another breath escaped her on a sigh of relief when Mateo came into view, reaching out with one hand to pull her toward him. Her heart’s rhythm accelerated as she wondered what version of Mateo she would get today. Apparently, his good mood had lasted for the past few days. He laughed against her lips as he drew her in for a kiss.
“Did I scare you?” he murmured.
“Oh, not at all,” she replied, sarcastically. “I always come home to a stalker waiting in my living room. I’m surprised you didn’t pass Marcel on your way in. He takes the morning and afternoon shifts.”
His arms tightened around her and he narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to get someone killed?”
She giggled, pushing away from him. “Yes. Marcel is an even bigger pain in my ass than you are. What are you doing here?”
He trailed her into the kitchen, where she pulled open the refrigerator and began rifling through what little she had. She wasn’t the best cook and tended to order in more often than not. Just now, trying to decide what to eat intensified her exhaustion. Mateo’s hand appeared over her shoulder, pushing the refrigerator closed.
“That’s already taken care of. Your dinner’s on the coffee table. You can eat it in the car, though. And when you’re done, you can explain to me why you haven’t been eating properly.”
Melody frowned, finally noticing the brown paper bag resting on the center of her coffee table. She nudged past him and went back to the living room, opening the bag. The smell of spices assaulted her senses as she read the label on the plastic carton inside.
“I love Willie’s Chicken Shack,” she said with a shake of her head. “How did you…”
Mateo met her gaze, then raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “Are we really going to play that game? You weren’t exactly surprised to find out I had a wife. Methinks I’m not the only stalker in this room.”
Melody winced, but there wasn’t an ounce of anger or accusation in his voice. He merely seemed to accept that turnabout was fair play.
“I couldn’t help myself,” she said, lowering her gaze. “I couldn’t find much of anything on you, but she …”
“Instagram was her favorite,” he said, voice low and slightly strained.
The air in the room was suddenly thick, swelling with tension. The easy banter that had colored the beginning of their conversation seemed difficult now that Mariana Garcia stood between them, an invisible specter, a reminder of a life far removed from what they currently lived.
Having a sudden thought, Melody reached for the first words she could manage. “Why am I eating this in the car? Are we going somewhere?”
She dared a glance at Mateo and found a glimmer in his eye. His lips quivered as if holding a secret, something too good to spill without proper inducement.
“We’re going to take a little drive,” he announced. “But you have to change your clothes first. Not that you don’t look amazing in those jeans. But for where I’m taking you, I have something else in mind.”
Melody peered through the open door of her bedroom, realizing for the first time that two of her lamps had been switched on and that her closet hung open.
“You chose clothes for me?”
Mateo gave her a nudge toward the bedroom. “Ten minutes, baby girl. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Her breath hitched when he followed the high-handed command up with a light slap on her ass. Mateo chuckled at the glare she leveled at him over her shoulder, but didn’t look the least bit sorry. In fact, he seemed pretty pleased with himself. He obviously had something up his sleeve and had come here to wait for her. How the hell had he known what time she would be home? For that matter, how was he so convinced she would just go along with whatever he said without argument?
Melody laughed at herself while inspecting the outfit laid neatly out on her bed. Of course she was going to go along with it. Of course she would put on whatever he chose for her to wear and go wherever he wanted to take her. She would do anything to have him look at her with such excitement glimmering in his eyes and that sweet ‘baby girl’ falling from his lips.
She reached out to run a hand over the dress Mateo had chosen. The price tag from the thrift shop was still attached, and she was shocked that he’d even found it as she’d shoved it to the back of the closet the moment she’d gotten it home. The dress had been an impulse buy, something she longed to wear without any notion of where or when she would wear it. It was, in fact, the perfect first date dress, and she’d had that thought when buying it. But, who the hell was going to ask her on a date? Who the hell would appreciate the soft chiffon fabric or the feminine silhouette? She wore her club clothes like armor, adorning herself with pieces that conveyed a certain image. A babydoll dress with a whispery skirt and a sweetheart neckline didn’t exactly support that image.
Was that why he had chosen it? Was this a date?
Realizing she’d wasted about two minutes already, Melody began undressing. She would have considered coffee and beignets a date, but then realized Mateo had likely seen that as something else. At the time, he’d still been trying to figure her out, learn the truth of her identity. Everything was different now. He wasn’t going out with Melody Johnson. He was going out with Melody Frank. The real her. The woman who had bought this dress while daydreaming about the kind of man who might like to see her in it.
