Page 69 of Wicked Takeover
She examined the pieces. “Are these yours, too?”
“Yep. Sold everything except my clothes and pickup.”
She put the plates and tray on the island and joined him at the refrigerator.
He held up two frozen rib eyes. “These look good.”
“I’ll have to take your word on it. I haven’t had steak in months.”
“That’s right. Thank God there’s no peanut butter and jelly here.”
She slapped his arm.
He put on a show and moaned loudly. “Hey. That fucking hurt.”
“Did not.” Lauren kissed his tat. “Better?”
She had no idea. Her warm lips were a balm for his lust and longing. “Maybe.” After pulling out a third rib eye, he put the meat on a plate and ran cool water over it.
Lauren wrinkled her nose. “Are they dirty?”
He laughed. If he had to guess, he’d say she’d never cooked unprocessed food. “No. The water helps them thaw.”
“Neat idea. Why shouldn’t you have won? You said that earlier. It doesn’t make sense. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I can see how much this hurts you.”
Dante hadn’t realized his feelings were still that raw or obvious. “I need to get the grill ready. I’ll tell you everything while I do.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She touched his cheek. “Whatever happened, you made the right choice as long as it made you happy.”
Her approval was such a gift, he pulled her close.
She hugged him without restraint and stroked his back, the way someone did when they meant to console.
He pressed his cheek to hers. “I want to tell you. Come on.”
She followed him out the sliding back door that led to the patio. He strode to the bricked-in grill.
Lauren wandered to the pool. Only a small wall separated it from the waterway. Stars dusted the sky, adding their sparkling light to the heavy moon. Smudged clouds muted its brightness. Warm, humid air drifted past and ruffled vegetation, delivering its scent and a pleasant fragrance from the water.
She couldn’t have looked more amazed and pleased.
He’d felt the same when he’d first toured this place and had known he could easily afford it. A hell of an accomplishment for a Cuban boy who’d grown up in Little Havana in a financially strapped family.
Lauren must have caught something on his face. Hers flooded with quick embarrassment.
“It’s all right.” He hadn’t brought her here to feel shame or regret. “The place is beautiful. Nothing can ever change that.”
“What happened?”
“Before I tell you, I have a request.”
“I won’t judge.”
He knew that now. Being with her again was so fucking comfortable, he couldn’t control his mischievous side. “That’s not my request. Actually, it’s a demand. Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
Lauren’s attention flew to the neighbors’ yards, hidden by tall stone fences and vegetation, then to the waterway, and finally to the landscape lights. The illumination was hardly enough to expose the area to prying eyes from passing boats. There weren’t any at the moment and probably wouldn’t be at this hour. Whether that or desire stoked Lauren’s courage, she pulled down her skirt and stepped out of it.
Dante grinned at her naked tummy and curls. “You didn’t wear panties.”
