Chapter Twelve
Holly woke up slowly, her mind fuzzy from sleep. It took her a few seconds to clear the cobwebs from her brain, but soon she was flooded with memories. The fire. Being trapped. The giant wolf who rescued them and turned out to be Dante.
Dante!
She sat up quickly and glanced around. She was alone in bed, but Dante’s scent tickled at her nostrils. She felt her cheeks go hot, remembering that she had invited him to her bed and practically threw herself at him. Slapping her hand on her forehead, she sank back into bed. Where was Dante?
She remembered telling him to leave her room by eight (then proceeded to maul him), so as not to confuse Hannah. She wasn’t even sure what that meant; dating as a single woman had been hard enough for Holly, but now she had Hannah to think about. All she knew was that Hannah couldn’t get attached to Dante, not when he would never be part of their lives.
Sure, that substantial tent in his pants last night might have told her he wanted her, but that wasn’t a guarantee. And she couldn’t be jumping into bed with anyone, not when she had to think of Hannah.
With a long, drawn-out sigh, she rolled onto her side, slipped out of bed, and got up. Her robe had come undone, and she tied it shut before heading out.
A delicious smell coming from the kitchen drew her across the room. Vanilla, cinnamon, and bread, plus bacon. French toast, she guessed. A muffled, masculine voice told her Dante was in there, but who was he talking to?
“This is the secret to good French toast—”
“What’s going on here?” she asked.
Hannah was sitting on the counter, watching Dante as he stood over a pan by the stove. His hair was mussed, and he wore a tight white T-shirt that clung to his chest and torso. His sweatpants were slung low over his hips. She stifled a groan as she remembered his rock hard six-pack abs and the warmth of his taut skin. Did the man not have any flaws?
“Oh, hey,” Dante greeted, flashing her a bright smile that sent her insides melting. “I was just making breakfast when Hannah walked in. I thought I’d show her my secret French toast recipe.”
“Is that so?” Holly bit her lip to keep from smiling and looked at Hannah.
Hannah nodded in agreement.
“So, what’s the secret?”
“Nuh-uh,” Dante shook his head. “That’s why it’s a secret.”
“But you told Hannah?”
Dante winked at Hannah. “Because she’s the best secret keeper in the world, right, hon?”
Hannah’s face broke into a big smile, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“That’s my girl,” he said, giving her a thumbs-up. He turned back to the pan and began placing the toast onto a plate. “Why don’t you set the table, and I’ll have these right out?”
“Let’s go, sweetie,” Holly said, helping Hannah down from the counter. “Actually, Hannah,” she opened the fridge door and took out a carton of milk, “could you take this to the table and start setting up? I need to talk to Dante for a second.”
Hannah took the carton and then headed out to the other room.
“You really shouldn’t have,” Holly said, turning to him. “I should be the one making you breakfast after last night. To say thank you.”
“You can make it tomorrow,” he said with a grin.
“Or we can send you a gift basket.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “It better be a nice gift basket.”
“Well, I—oh poop!” She slapped her hand over her head.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, crossing the distance between them. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just that … it’s Christmas Eve and I completely zoned out about planning for the holiday.” Her shoulders dropped. “This is her first without her mom and dad.”
“Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t even get a Christmas tree.” She let out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even know where to get one. Sean used to get us one when I lived with him, but after that, I never bothered with the holidays. I usually spent Christmas in the kitchen or at home, passed out after a long night of working. I went to visit Sean, Brenda one time for the holidays, when Hannah was three.” She shrugged. “I keep asking Hannah if she wanted to celebrate Christmas here or if I could take her somewhere, but she just sits and stares at me. And now I haven’t even gotten her any gifts. I’m a terrible person.”
“Shhh, stop saying that,” he said, then gathered her into his arms. “You’re not terrible.”
Holly took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. She wondered now if he had that distinct smell because of what he was. Did Lycans give off unique pheromones that made them appealing? Whatever it was, it made her want to burrow deeper into his arms and it took all her strength to pull away. “Sorry to dump this on you. It’s fine. I’m fine. Maybe I’ll take Hannah skating at Rockefeller Center, and we can look at the Christmas tree there.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Dante warned. “Look, you guys should come with me. To Jersey.”
“What?” She looked up at him, and his face was dead serious. “But you’ll be spending time with your family. I can’t barge in on your celebration.”
“You’re not,” he assured her. “Frankie and the kids will be there and so will Nonna Gianna and Enzo, plus everyone else. They’d love to have you and Hannah. We always make way too much food anyway.”
“Still, we don’t want to impose.”
“Look,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes. “I’d feel much better if you both came with me. I’m not leaving you alone, not with whoever’s trying to hurt you still out there. I’ll stay here if I have to and miss dinner and saying goodbye to my sister and her kids before Christmas.” His lips turned up into a smile. “But you have to tell Nonna Gianna why I’m missing the holidays with them.”
She smirked. “Nonna Gianna would probably make another poor Uber driver come all the way to Manhattan just to drag you back there.”
“So you agree? The only solution is to come with me,” he said with a boyish grin.
“I didn’t—”
“C’mon,” he said before she could protest. He grabbed the plate of French toast with one hand and took her arm with the other. “Hannah’s probably starving and the food’s getting cold.”
Holly let out a sigh. “Fine.”