Page 25 of The Obsession
I watched him share both dishes with Peach. Tiny, careful bites went into her mouth, and without missing a beat, he’d scoop huge, greedy forkfuls into his own. Seeing it made my heart squeeze. I can’t ever remember my father being hands-on like this.
“Jesus, my ovaries are about ready to bust, watching that little kid with her hot dad,” Sonia says, slipping up beside me. “Why are the good ones always taken?”
Her words give me pause. Is he taken? Is someone else quietly helping him raise that little girl? The last time I saw him, Peach was with a neighbour. Could there be more than just casual babysitting going on there? And why does the very thought of it make my stomach twist?
When they’re done, I move over to clear the table. I won’t be boxing up any leftovers tonight, because they managed to get through most of their meals. I feel a little uneasy about sending them home without food for tomorrow. I recall the frozen dinners when I ran into him at the grocery store, so I know he can’t cook.
“Would you like to look at the dessert menu?” I ask as I stack up the empty plates.
Dominic sits back in his chair and rubs his hand over his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”
“What about Peach? We have ice cream and sprinkles.”
My eyes move down to her as I speak, and I see her little tongue skimming along her bottom lip as she concentrates on her colourful scribble.
Dominic’s hand moves up to gently push a loose curl off her forehead. His large hand dwarfs her tiny head.
“Do you want some ice cream, baby girl?” he asks, and I swear that gesture and those words have my own ovaries in immediate danger.
She pauses what she’s doing and glances up at him. Those big brown eyes of hers are enough to melt anyone’s heart. “K,” is her only reply.
The smile that lights up Dominic’s face as he stares down at his niece almost knocks me on my arse. Broody Dominic is gorgeous, but this version of him is downright devastating. His usual guarded intensity softens, replaced by something so tender it steals the breath right out of my lungs. The way his eyes crinkle, the gentle curve of his mouth is a side of him I didn’t think existed, and now that I’ve seen it, I know I’ll never be able to unsee it. This man is such a contradiction.
I know I’m staring right now, but thankfully, his attention is currently locked on the little girl on his lap, so he doesn’t notice. When his eyes flicker up to me, I snap myself out of my haze and force myself to keep moving.
I reach for the dirty dishes and take them back to the kitchen, feeling oddly off-kilter, by what I just witnessed.
“What are you doing with the other half of the lasagne in the fridge?” I ask Massimo when I open the freezer to get the ice cream.
He usually makes a few fresh ones for the evening rush since we’re busier at night. One of the perks of working in a restaurant is taking home the leftovers at the end of our shift. Mick usually loves it when I bring something back, but he’s not getting any tonight.
“You’re welcome to it,” Massimo replies.
“Would you mind if I boxed it up for one of our customers? He’s part of theFamiglia. He’s here with his little niece tonight, and I know he can’t cook.”
He crouches slightly and peers through the cutout in the wall towards the dining room. “Dominic?” he asks, flicking his chin in that direction.
“You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s one of Dante’s enforcers.” The words hit me harder than I expected. That shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. “There’s some fettuccine boscaiola left over from lunch in there, too. You can give him that as well.”
Massimo rounds the stainless-steel island, stepping close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. “You know,” he says, nodding towards my lip, “he’d be the perfect guy to sort out your little problem. Just say the word, and it’s done.”
His offer has all the colour draining from my face. Mick was wrong for what he did to me last night, and for stealing my money, but that’s a weight my conscience couldn’t bear.
Ignoring his words, I quickly bag up the containers and take them back out to the dining room along with Peach’s dessert.
Although I’d never take Massimo up on that ridiculous offer, my mind still reels with that dangerous possibility.
Chapter 10
Dominic
Istare at the bag of food Emily sets on the table before she places a small bowl of ice cream with colourful sprinkles scattered on top in front of Lil’ Peach.
“We had some leftover lasagne and boscaiola in the fridge out back from lunch,” she says as her pretty blue eyes meet mine. “It’s only going to get wasted, so I thought you might want it.”
I nod once, taken aback by her gesture as I lift the small spoon and offer Peach a scoop of ice cream. The way her tiny lips part to take in whatever I give her makes my chest ache with something warm. This little girl trusts me without question.
