Page 142 of Wicked Truths
I tense, glancing back toward the bathroom where the shower still runs, where Amara is safe in Caleb’s arms, unaware that her mother’s ghost is about to destroy our perfect afternoon.
38
Amara
I stretch under thesheets, savoring the lingering scent of both men on the pillows, and the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the house.
My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache, but it’s a delicious soreness that brings a smile to my face.
The events of yesterday replay in my mind. The three of us together was something new and beautiful. I never imagined I could have both men in my life, but somehow, impossibly, it’s happening. I didn’t have to choose.
I slip out of bed, grabbing Dom’s discarded shirt from the floor, lifting it to my nose and sniffing it before pulling it over my head and making my way barefoot toward the kitchen.
Caleb stands at the counter, his back to me, humming softly as he pours coffee into a mug. He’s wearing only his jeans from yesterday, his broad back bare apart from the scratches from my fingernails.
“Morning,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
He turns, a smile spreading across his face. “There she is.” He holds out the mug to me. “I was just about to bring this to you.”
I cross the kitchen and take the offered coffee, our fingers brushing. “Thank you.”
He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. Sore, but good.” I take a sip of the coffee, savoring the rich flavor. “Where’s Dom?”
“Living room. Detective Ingram is here with more news about your mother’s death.”
My stomach tightens. “That was fast. Do you think they found something on Dom?”
Caleb shrugs, turning to pour himself a cup. “Hard to say. But if Dom was in real trouble, they’d arrest him, not make a house call.”
“That’s good to know,” I say. “But it’s still my mother, so I’d like to know what they’ve found out.”
“Okay, you go. I’ll be in the kitchen. I want to call Poppy and check she is okay, anyway.”
“I’d like to see Poppy,” I tell him. “Maybe in the next few days. We don’t have to tell her about us. Not until you’re ready. I’d just like to see her as a friend.”
He smiles. “We’ll organize that.”
I leave Caleb, rush to my room and change into something more respectable, and then I grab my coffee cup and make my way to the living room.
“...and how well do you know Lucia Gallo?” the detective asks.
Dom is sitting on the couch, his posture rigid as he speaks with Detective Ingram.
“She’s the daughter of my friend, Eduardo,” he responds.
Her eyes flick to mine as I walk into the living room.
“Miss Bailey,” Detective Ingram says, standing. “I’m Detective Ingram. We’ve met before, though you might not remember me.”
“I remember…everything after the accident,” I say.
I take a seat next to Dom, feeling his body heat as our thighs touch. His hand finds mine, squeezing gently in silent support.
I sip my coffee, watching Detective Ingram’s face carefully. She has that look—the one people get when they’re about to deliver news that will change everything.
“I was telling Mr. de Luca that we’ve been reviewing the security footage from outside Angels and Sinners,” she says, pulling out her tablet. “We have an image of the driver who hit you.”
