Chapter Seven

“Food,” Aurora groaned into his neck where she’d buried her face. The aftershocks had gone, and all that was left was a full-bodied exhaustion. An absolute need for nourishment like she’d never known before. “Now.”

Dante chuckled and disentangled them, wincing as he pulled out of her. She immediately missed the heat of his skin against hers, but something kept her from pulling him toward her again.

He held out a hand to help her hop down from the counter.

“This food’s going to need some reheating. If you want you can wash up in my bathroom while I get the food ready. You remember where it is?”

He jerked his chin toward the stairs and the room that Aurora remembered very well.

Aurora nodded and shivered. She hadn’t realized the air had been so chilly in here until she was standing there completely naked, covered in a thin layer of sweat. “How’d you know I’d want a bath?”

He shrugged. “You’re practically swaying on your feet right now. Go relax upstairs and I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

Aurora frowned, but she turned and walked up the stairs. This was really not how she’d thought this was going to go. She really thought she was going to get here, bang him, and leave. But he’d ordered them dinner? What the heck was his angle here? There was no way she was leaving without eating some of that food but he wasn’t wrong that she was basically dead on her feet. A bath would actually be really nice right about now.

She ignored his bedroom and the onslaught of memories it brought back and walked straight into his adjoining bathroom. She sighed. A claw foot tub. Perfect.

She ran the water into it, but couldn’t find any bubbles to add. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes at the well-stocked drawer of condoms he had. Fat lot of good that had done them.

Normally, she liked a piping hot bath. However, her OBGYN had warned her against that in her first trimester, so Aurora settled for a mildly warm one. Still, she had no complaints when she piled her hair in a messy bun and slipped into the warm water. Heaven.

She made quick work with the bar of soap on the ledge, reveling in the manly smell of it.

All clean, her eyes fluttered closed and she hovered somewhere between thoughts and dreams and memories, each muscle in her body slowly relaxing.

“Sweetheart.”

His voice had her eyes flinging open, but she didn’t tense back up. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, barefoot and shirtless, his work slacks slung low over his hips. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a pained expression.

“You trying to invite me in?” He nodded toward her legs, one of which was drawn up, her foot planted on the edge of the tub. It had been a natural pose for Aurora to strike in the tub, but she could see now that it was alluring. She was opening herself for him.

The thought struck her like lightning. She pictured him crawling into the tub, slacks and all, the water spilling over the sides. Her core clenched around nothing, needing to be filled again. But a different hunger won out.

“Food,” she croaked again.

Dante threw his head back and laughed. “Fair enough, gorgeous. It’s all ready downstairs. I brought your clothes up.” He nodded toward a pile of folded clothes he’d set on the counter. “But you can find something in the closet if you want to get more comfortable.”

And then he was gone. Leaving her be. Aurora had been certain from the minute she’d seen him in the doorway that he was going to stay and watch her get out of the tub. But no, he gave her space. And had folded her clothes.

She wrinkled her nose at the new information. Weird. It somehow didn’t fit the playboy image she had of him in her head. Well, part of the reason she was here was to learn more about him, so she supposed it was important to approach things with an open mind.

She dried off and despite being terribly tempted to go through his clothes and pick out something to wear, slipped back into her clothes. She had to maintain some distance, after all.

She peeked at herself in the mirror and was surprised at what she saw. Besides the professional clothing, she looked like she could be a college girl hanging out at home after class. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, her makeup washed off from the bath. Her skin was flushed and slightly pink. And her eyes were… blurry? Relaxed? Happy?

Strange. Feeling vaguely suspicious of what her own reflection was telling her, Aurora headed downstairs. She was fairly certain she could eat an entire buffet right now. All-you-can-eat would lose money tonight.

She had laser vision as she bounced down the stairs and perched herself on the bar stool at the breakfast bar. Dante, bless him, had already loaded her plate with food and was just setting out a glass of ice water for her.

“I also have beer? Wine? A stiff whiskey to put the color back in your cheeks?” He surveyed her, cocking his head to one side. “Actually, strike that. The bath did that just fine.”

She met his gaze for a moment, and something electric passed between them before she deliberately tucked into her food. She waved her hand to show him that water was fine.

He leaned over the bar and watched her eat with a vaguely amazed look in his eye. “You look about 18 with your hair piled up like that and no makeup.”

She finally looked back up at him, swallowing what was in her mouth and taking a big gulp of water. “You wanna see some ID?”

He laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

* * *

Dante slid onto the stool across from her and started eating. He couldn’t get a read on her. She seemed relaxed and sated and obviously very hungry. But he couldn’t tell what the hell else she was feeling.

He wasn’t sure why it was so important. Regardless of what she was feeling, they’d still done something amazing together. He thought of the look in her eyes when she’d come through the door. The way she’d looked when she’d taken him inside her. Yeah. He was pretty much on cloud nine right now. It was ridiculous, but he felt like his bar stool was a helium balloon, floating him up into the stratosphere.

Some of her ravenous hunger taken care of, Aurora took a deep breath and started eating at a more human pace. As she did so, her gaze scanned his home.

He wondered if she was surprised by what she saw.

“You know, your house is cuter than I thought it would be. It’s actually like a house.”

He raised an eyebrow and bit into a samosa. “What were you picturing?”

“I dunno. Lots of chrome and glass. Some condo high above the city where you could look down on everybody. A room designated for your sex swings.”

Dante threw his head back and laughed. Really laughed. “Well, you pretty much described my old condo down to a T. Except for the sex swing part. But yeah, I sold that and moved here when I got custody of my sister. She needed something a little warmer. More homey.”

* * *

Aurora dropped her eyes from him and stared at the food on her plate, hardly seeing it. He’d surprised her again. As if his house hadn’t already done that enough.

It was homey. Colored jars of herbs and spices on the counter, an ugly little handmade something hanging in the window above the sink, mismatched placemats on the big dinner table behind her. And pictures on the walls. Lots of them. Artsy ones and family ones. What the hell?

And what the fuck did he mean ‘custody’. He was raising his little sister? Dante Callaghan was living in a house in suburbia raising a kid? Why the hell hadn’t she known this? She’d known the man for four fucking years.

He narrowed his eyes in confusion as he studied her reaction. “You didn’t know? About my sister?”

Aurora cleared her throat and took a grateful sip of her ice water. “I knew that you two were close. I met her at that company picnic a few years ago. Remember?”

“I remember.” His eyes were dark and inscrutable.

“But I didn’t know you had custody of her. I assumed you brought her in order to…”

Aurora trailed off, appalled at the ugliness of her assumption and appalled that she’d been about to say it out loud.

But Dante merely quirked a smile, dug out more channa masala from a carton to put on his plate. “You assumed I brought her as some sort of pick-up tactic for the women at the picnic? A way to soften up the ladies so I could get a little taste of tail?”

Aurora shrugged, her cheeks flaming with her deep embarrassment. “I guess.”

Dante took it in good humor, chuckling and sighing. “Well, I gotta say, I didn’t expect it—how hot some women found it when I told them I was raising a kid alone.”

Aurora laughed, pushing her food around on her plate. She was still reeling. Both from the discovery that Dante was raising his sister and from the fact that she barely knew him at all.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to assume the worst about you.”

He shrugged. If she’d hurt his feelings, he hid it well. “I think my reputation often precedes me. Whether it’s an earned reputation or not.”

What did that mean? That he wasn’t a total player? Aurora’s head spun. This was a lot of new information all at once. She had about a hundred questions but she found herself snapping her mouth shut. She’d already insulted him enough and was too nervous to say anything else.

Dante scooped more food onto her empty plate, eyeing her. “It’s okay, Aurora. You can ask questions. You want to know more about my situation with Michelle?”

She looked up. It seemed rude to pry, but he was offering and more information was a huge part of the reason she was here in the first place. “Your parents are…”

“Both alive. My mother is flighty, unreliable, rich as chocolate and somewhere in Thailand right now. And she’s not Michelle’s mother. We’re related through our dad. Who is…” He paused, a dark expression coming over his face. “Unfit to be a father. So, when Michelle’s mother passed away when she was five, I knew that it was up to me to make sure she had a good life. It took about a year, but I gained custody over her when she was six.”

“How old is she now?” Aurora asked, looking around the house for more clues that a little girl lived there. She saw a purple article of clothing tossed over a chair in the corner of the living room.

“Ten going on thirty. I swear, she’s smarter than I am.”

Aurora soaked in the little smile on his face as he talked about his sister and felt, for a moment, like she was staring into the sun. She felt like there were two Dante Callaghans. The one who had hit on her relentlessly for years and the one who lovingly grinned into his food when he was talking about the little sister he was raising. A headache started to form behind her left eye.

“So how come you never bring her around? You’ve had her for four years and the only time I’ve ever met her was two years ago at that picnic?”

“She hates doing work related stuff. Every once in a while I’ll bring her into my office and she’ll entertain herself for an hour. And after that I pretty much wish I’d never been born.” He grinned again.

Aurora felt as if her stomach had turned into a fist. A giant, clenching fist.

“But the picnic was outdoors and there were going to be other kids there, so she wanted to go. Plus,” he raked a hand over his stubble for a second, a look coming into his eyes that she’d never seen before. “I was what you’d call a nervous new parent. I was so scared when I first took her in. We barely knew each other, and her mom had just died. I just wanted her to be comfortable and happy. So we spent a lot of time one-on-one. And I guess I just got used to it that way.”

Aurora filed the information away for later. She felt like she could barely breathe, let alone comprehend what he was saying right now. She thought back to the little girl from the office picnic. Rat’s nest hair, a Little League softball t-shirt. She’d been sweet. She’d asked Aurora to take her to the restroom because Dante wasn’t allowed in. Another memory trickled through. “She got hurt at that picnic. Banged her knee or something?”

Dante’s eyes darkened again. “We left early for the hospital.”

“The hospital for a banged knee?”

Dante pushed his empty plate away from him and reached for his water. “She has a blood disorder called Von Willebrand’s. It’s similar to hemophilia, for all intents and purposes. And any time she gets a bruise, she risks internal hemorrhaging.”

“Wow. Oh my god, Dante. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s manageable with regular health care, but we have to take stuff like that really seriously.”

“Wow,” she repeated again. Aurora lowered her chin to her hand, pressing her eyes closed against the pain that was growing in her head. This was all so much. Almost too much. Definitely too much.

“You alright?” He reached across the breakfast bar and cupped her elbow, a look of concern etched onto his face.

“Yes.” She waved a hand through the air and pushed her empty plate away from her the same as he had. “I guess I’m just having trouble reconciling Dante Callaghan, Moneybags Ladies Man, with Dante Callaghan, Devoted Brother.”

Dante leaned back in his chair, a serious look on his face. “There’s only one Dante Callaghan, Aurora.”

“Sure, sure.” She stood and started clearing plates. “I guess I’m just surprised at how little we know one another.”

“Yeah, well, blame yourself for that one,” he said as he came up behind her while she started loading up the dishwasher. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck. “You’re the one who’s been keeping me at arm’s length for years. Hmmm. You smell like my soap.”

Aurora turned in his arms, squinted at him, and tried to get her brain to catch up with reality. “Dante Callaghan, family man.”

He scoffed and tightened his arms around her waist. “Family man might be pushing it a little far. Michelle and I have made it work for us over the years, but I’m not exactly a ‘kids’ person.” He shuddered. “Raising her has been hard enough and she’s like the best kid ever. I’m not interested in doing it again.”

Well.

Well.

That answered that.

Aurora gulped. Okay. That was information. He hadn’t said it to hurt her. She couldn’t allow herself to linger over the pain and fear settling into her stomach.

It was simply a fact about him. He didn’t want kids. She wasn’t getting closer to him because he wanted to be World’s Best Dad to the kid in her belly. No. She was getting closer to him in order to figure out who the hell he actually was. And she’d just gotten a shit ton of information all at once.

Any of the fatigue that dinner and a bath had soothed instantly came back full force. The pain behind her eye increased ten fold and the only thing Aurora wanted to do was crawl under her covers and sleep for a week. His arms around her waist suddenly felt as if they were trapping her.

She stepped out of his grasp and smoothed her shirt down with one hand. “I’m going to go.”

She inwardly winced at the rude note in her tone, but she couldn’t really help it. She needed to get the hell out of here.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat. “Sure.”

“Thanks for dinner,” she said over her shoulder as she padded down the hall toward her shoes.

“Anytime.” There was something in his voice that wasn’t usually there, but Aurora was currently full up on things to interpret. He followed her to the door and opened it for her, reaching out and clasping her elbow as she passed.

Was he looking for a kiss?

“What are the odds that this happens again, Aurora?”

She shrugged, completely unable to answer that question. “I’ll let you know.” And then, before he could kiss her, before she could kiss him the way she was seriously wanting to, she walked out the door and forced herself not to look back.

* * *

Dante watched her go. He watched her get into the driver’s seat and pull smoothly down his driveway. He watched her taillights disappear. He held onto the doorknob as if it were the only thing holding him to earth. He couldn’t believe that that had just happened. He turned and looked back in his entryway. Well, they’d certainly christened it.

That helium balloon that had been growing underneath him suddenly popped with a vicious, stomach sinking finality. The reason they’d christened his entryway settled over him.

She’d come over to do what he’d propositioned. She’d come over to use him. To exorcise her feelings for Gio.

Had she thought of Gio while they’d been together? Had she left because she’d decided Dante had been a piss poor substitute for the man she really wanted?

Dante frowned and closed the front door behind him. He couldn’t fault her for doing exactly what he’d told her to do. But as he stepped back into the kitchen to box up the rest of the food, he couldn’t ignore the clenching in his gut.

She’d been fucking him, kissing him, sure. But she probably had been thinking of Gio.

And that was something that angered and saddened him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

His plan had backfired and he had no one to blame but himself.