Both Hugh and Dante volunteered to help me wash the dishes, but I wasn’t about to get myself in the middle of that, so I told them Morgan had already offered.
“Wow, the testosterone’s thick out there,” Morgan said.
“Tell me about it.”
“Do you believe me now?” Morgan leaned against the counter while I turned on the tap.
I shrugged. “I guess Dante’s kind of proprietary with the people he fucks.”
Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “Since when? I’d be surprised if he knows the majority of their names.”
I couldn’t help being dubious of Dante’s feelings for me, which I was still pretty sure amounted to affection with a healthy dose of lust, and the lust would wear off eventually.
“Keep telling yourself that. The man’s in love with you.”
“He is not. If he were, he wouldn’t have left me for Felicity Smoozy-Boozy.”
Morgan laughed as he donned the apron I’d thrown at him. “Is that her name?”
“No, but it’s something equally stupid.” I sighed. “Okay, that was bitchy. She was really nice to me when Gus died. I guess I’m the one who’s jealous.”
I passed a wet dish to Morgan, and he placed it in the dishwasher.
“I know, but I can’t help it. She’s the one who everyone thought would be perfect for him.”
“No, just his parents and their snooty friends,” Morgan reminded me. “I think you’d be perfect for him.”
I smiled. “Thanks. But Dante wants casual sex, and I can’t do that with him.”
“You gonna start seeing the hunky vet, then?”
“Nope. We agreed to be friends.”
As we finished up the dishes, Foghorn and Cupcake came in and announced they were getting ready to leave. Half an hour later, Zeke and Morgan drove off and the rest of us walked down to my place. Dante had been tense all evening, and I was relieved when Hugh offered to drive Caleb and Deirdre home.
“You taking off, too?” I asked Dante as we watched the Kia’s tail lights disappear down the tree-lined drive. A bitter wind bit at my flesh, and I tucked my hands under my arms because I’d forgotten my gloves.
“You want me to?”
“It’s probably a good idea.” While I felt bad making Dante drive back to the clubhouse only to return the next day, so we could go to the lawyer’s office, I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea by letting him stay. Not to mention I didn’t trust myself to spend the night with him and not touch him.
Dante nodded and put on his helmet.
I chewed on my lower lip. “I’m nervous about tomorrow.”
“Why? You’re Gus’s next of kin and only living relative. Should be cut and dried.”
“But Gus adopted me the day he died. It feels wrong.”
“Doesn’t matter. The law’s the law. Gus wanted you to be his son.”
I knew that, of course, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was an imposter and didn’t deserve to inherit anything at all. I also wanted to protest that I hadn’t loved Gus for his money, but I knew the only person who really mattered had known that.
***
The following day, when Dante and I sat down in the twin leather chairs in the modern office on Broadway, Gus’s lawyer explained to me that I was legally Gus’s only family, and that Gus had left everything he had to me even before he’d adopted me. I couldn’t believe it. Gus wasn’t rich, but the houses and the car were paid for, and he’d had some money in savings. To me, who’d jumped from foster home to foster home before living on the streets, the inheritance might as well have been millions.
After informing the lawyer I had no intention of selling the houses and property, we spoke a little longer and then Dante and I left.
“You’re better off than I am, now,” Dante teased over lunch at a nearby deli. “Sometime, I might have to borrow a little dough from you to get me through.”
I put down my fork. I hadn’t thought about how Dante was now out of a job and probably penniless. “You know you can come to me if you ever need anything. I owe you so much.”
“I was joking,” Dante said with a wave of his hand. “And you don’t owe me anything. All I did was give you a place to stay; it was no big deal.”
“You’ve never been homeless. Shelter, safety, food, friendship—you don’t know what they mean until you don’t have them anymore.”
Dante studied my face. “Okay. If I ever need anything, you’re my man.”
The last three words sent a shiver through me that I hoped Dante didn’t notice. The last thing I wanted him to know was how much he affected me. If we were going to pick up from where we’d been before we’d slept together—and I still wasn’t sure I could do that—I couldn’t let every little thing he said get me hard.
“Stop worrying. Gus loved you and wanted you to have his assets.”
“I’d rather have him back.”
“I know.”
We ate in silence for a few moments.
“Hey,” Dante said. “You know what? You could let Caleb live in the shelter, and you could live in the main house.”
I thought about it. “I don’t know. It would be nice to get away from all the noise of the dogs, and I love Gus’s kitchen, but I’m not sure I want to live alone. It was all right with Gus so close, but I think I’d be lonely. Maybe Caleb and I could both live in the main house. Somehow I don’t think he’d be that keen on living alone either.”
“What’s up with him, anyway?” Dante asked, licking mustard off his fingers before taking another bite of his sandwich. “He seemed more nervous than usual last night.”
“I haven’t figured it out yet. Panic attacks, or PTSD, or something. And he was worse last night because he’s terrified of Ax.”
“Most people are, but, yeah, I noticed how jumpy he got when Ax did anything.”
“Maybe it will be good for him to live with me. I think he’s calmed down since he started working with the animals.”
The conversation turned to recent adoptions as we finished eating.
“Where are you going to work?” I asked Dante on the drive home.
“I don’t know. I was considering looking for something in an office.” He glanced at me as though gaging my reaction.
“Really? Thought you hated that kind of stuff.”
He shrugged. “I’d rather be outdoors, but it’s about time I settle down into something permanent.”
“I don’t see why you can’t have both. Maybe you can start your own landscaping business,” I suggested. “You’d be seriously good at it. You did a great job with Gus’s yard.” It occurred to me that one of these days, I was going to have to start calling it my yard and my house, but that would take a lot of getting used to.
Dante looked like he was considering what I’d said, so I added, “Sometimes, you’ve got to take a chance. I did with my pet-styling business.”
“Maybe. I should ask Felicity. She’s got a good head for business.”
I fell quiet, wondering if Dante and Felicity were close now.
“Why are you scowling?”
“What? I’m not scowling.”
“I never slept with Felicity,” Dante said.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” I stared out the passenger window.
“Looks like I do,” Dante said.
“No, Dante. You don’t owe me an explanation or anything else. We’re not going back to the way it was before.” It felt good to say that, and a little of the tension I’d held before drained out of me.
Dante glanced at me before flipping on the turn signal and taking the exit ramp. When he finally spoke, his voice had lowered an octave.
“You been seeing Hugh?”
I glanced at him in surprise. “I told you before, Hugh’s just a friend.”
“I thought maybe something had changed. He acts like he wants to be more.”
Privately, I thought maybe Hugh just liked pulling Dante’s chain, but I didn’t say that
.
“Nothing’s changed,” I said.
We didn’t speak anymore until we reached Gus’s driveway, and I told Dante to stop so I could get the mail. I was going to have to start going through it to see if Gus had had any loose strings I needed to clear up. In front of the main house, Dante parked the car and got out.
I wanted him to stay but knew it would be a bad idea. My body was so aware of him, if I wasn’t careful, I naturally migrated into his space.
“I’m sorry I screwed things up between us,” Dante said, looking regretful.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him but settled for a reassuring pat on the arm. “We’re okay.”
“No.” Dante took hold of my hand. “We’re not. I’m not okay with never being able to touch you like I want to again.”
Anger stirred. Was that what this was about? I stepped back, yanking my hand out of his grip.
“Sorry, but you’re going to have to be okay with it because I’m not going to be your little fuck on the side. I’ve lived like that before, and I won’t do it again.” I turned and headed for the house. I was shaking, so fucking ticked off that I’d done it yet again—let myself believe that Dante might want something more from me than sex.
Dante caught up to me at the front door, pressing himself against my back before I could get the key all the way into the lock.
“Hey, I’m not asking you to be anything like that.” His warm breath on my ear sent shivers down my spine.
I fumbled with the key and jerked the front door open, sending the dogs into a fit of barking.
“Quiet!” I shouted before turning to Dante. He was standing closer to me than I’d realized, and our chests brushed. I took a quick step back.
Dante’s blue eyes searched mine, demanding answers. “What do you mean, you’ve lived like that before?”
I supposed this talk was inevitable. What did it matter anymore? Dante and I were going to shit as it was, might as well speed up the process.
I peeled off my coat. “Remember Clint?”
“Your ex?”
“I wasn’t his boyfriend, I was his boy. I’d been living out on the streets, and when I found out I could have a place to live and food to eat every day in exchange for being some guy’s arm candy, I went for it. It’s not something I’m proud of, and it took me over a year to leave. But once I did, I swore I’d never do it again.”
Dante’s brows dipped. “Wait. I don’t understand. Are you saying you were a prostitute?”
“I only fucked Clint, but I might has well have been. He called all the shots. I lived with him, let him pick out my clothes, went everywhere with him, and basically gave him my ass every time he said the word.”
Dante stiffened, and I waited for disgust or disdain to register on his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Dante asked.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
Dante ran his hand down my arm. “I thought you thought more of me than that.”
I huffed out a laugh and pulled away. “Sure. Right. I played escort to a rich man for over a year, and you don’t think any less of me for it.”
“You’re talking to a man who’s had his dick in more people than he can count the past ten years. I think my track record’s a lot worse than yours.”
I looked at the floor. “I’m just not doing that again, Dante. I’m better than that.”
Dante lifted my chin. “Of course you are. Way better. Do you really think I want you to be that for me? To be my arm candy?” He huffed a laugh. “Hell, I don’t have enough money to take you to a movie.”
“You want me to be a casual fuck, and that’s almost as bad.”
“Isaac,” Dante shook his head in wonder. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
Confused, I remained silent.
“I’ve fought it for a long time, but I think I first started to realize it when you announced you were moving out of the clubhouse. I knew I was being selfish, but I grabbed at the opportunity Gus gave me to work here. I never planned to fall into bed with you, but once it happened, I couldn’t let you go.”
“But you did let me go. You chose Felicity and life in the Hamptons over me.”
“You act like it was an easy decision. I wish I could make you understand. My whole life, I’ve known I’d have to go back there.”
I put my hand on Dante’s chest to keep him at bay because he was getting dangerously close. His heart thumped hard beneath my palm, and I curled my fingers into his shirt as though I could grab onto it.
“I knew I couldn’t keep going back to you, but I couldn’t help myself. Gus was concerned and told me how it had to be.”
I should have realized Gus had had something to do with it. I thought back to that day, how Dante had come back from Gus’s and what we’d done. “So, you fucked me one more time before letting me know it was over.”
“I told you, I was selfish. Isaac, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done pushing you away like that.”
“You called me Swish in bed to hurt me.”
“I had to make you not want me anymore.”
Dante lowered his head, pressing his forehead to mine, and my chest swelled with too much emotion. I tugged out of his grip and took several steps back, needing to put space between us.
Dante’s eyes darkened with hurt, another bruise to my already battered heart. Because, damn, no matter how much he hurt me, I couldn’t stand hurting him in return.
“I’m sorry, Isaac. I fucked up all the way around. I really thought I was doing the right thing. I hadn’t planned on what went down between us. You’ve got to believe me. And every time I tried to put a stop to it, I wound up doing it again.”
I was shaking. Every part of me wanted to be with Dante, but I couldn’t risk my heart like that. I hurt. I felt like a touch could break me, and I didn’t trust myself around him.
Dante took a step toward me and stopped at the look on my face. “By the time I’d realized what an idiot I’d been, you were over me.” He lowered his voice. “Do you still feel that way? You don’t want me around?”
His words stabbed at me, and God, I just couldn’t deal with it all right then.
Tears obscured my vision, but I kept my eyes on Dante.
“Thanks for going to the lawyer’s office with me, but I have a million things on my mind, and I...need to be alone.”
Dante’s shoulders drooped, and he started toward the door.
“I’m not giving up,” he said before disappearing into the night.
I was suddenly very tired. Dante and I both knew it wasn’t in him to stick around.
I stood stock still in the foyer, listening to Dante’s bike start up and roar down the driveway. Slowly, I walked into the living room and lowered myself to the couch. Banjo jumped up beside me and licked my cheek, and I put my arm around the dog, burying my face in his fur, letting him comfort me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Dante
I’d fucked up royally, making Isaac distrust me and push me away. I’d meant it when I told him I wasn’t giving up, though. Now that I knew how I felt about him, I wasn’t going to let him go.
I gave Isaac a couple of days and then got Ax to go see him with me to act as a buffer. I’d realized I’d come on too strong with Isaac so soon after he’d lost Gus, but two days was all I could wait to see him again.
“He still sees you as a philandering ‘ho’,” Ax told me on the drive there. “He’s trying to protect himself.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, but I knew he was right. I just hated that Isaac felt he had to protect himself from me.
My blood pressure went up when I saw the Kia parked in the driveway.
“That guy couldn’t possibly have to come over here this often,” I grumbled to Ax as he pulled the SUV to a stop.
“Who?”
“Dr. Doolittle.”
Ax laughed. “You mean Hugh? He’s a nice guy.”
“He has designs on Isaac.”
> “Designs? You spent too long rubbing noses with your rich friends, man.”
We got out of the car. Being tossed out on my ass in front of Dr. Doolittle would be fucking humiliating, but I was going to try my best with Isaac.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Isaac wasn’t the one who answered the door. Caleb answered it, and he took one look at Ax, turned stark white—even his lips—and fainted.
Ax caught him before he hit the ground.
“Who is it?” Isaac called from down the hall. When he saw Ax cradling an unconscious Caleb, his eyes widened.
“Fuck, what happened?” he asked.
“Kid took one look at Ax and fainted,” I explained.
“I’ll get a cool cloth,” Doolittle said, ever valiant. I gritted my teeth.
Isaac got to his knees beside where Ax sat on the floor, Caleb leaning against his broad chest. The kid drew in a long breath of air and nuzzled closer to Ax. Isaac and I shared a look, and for a minute it was as though none of the shit between us had happened. And then Isaac seemed to remember he was mad at me and his face shuttered.
“Sorry, Swish,” Ax said. “I forgot he lives here now.”
“He’s going to have to get used to you,” Isaac said. “I shouldn’t have had him open the door.”
“We should have called,” Ax said.
“The kid’s coming around,” I interrupted the self-flagellation. Caleb had opened his eyes. He blinked a couple times before pushing himself to a sitting position. Isaac and I helped him up before the kid could realize whose lap he was sitting on.
As soon as Caleb was clear of him, Ax got to his feet and backed away several paces.
“What happened?” Caleb asked, rubbing his eyes.
“You fainted when you saw Ax,” I said.
“Axel,” Ax corrected from the corner of the room.
“Axel,” I repeated. “Hey, I know he’s big, but he’s a good guy. Really.”
Caleb had paled again, but he didn’t pass out this time. He glanced over his shoulder at Ax and gave a rueful smile before casting his eyes to the floor. “Sorry.”
“Hey, man, no problem,” Ax said, softening his normally gruff tone. It was kind of like watching a lion with a kitten.
The Pet Stylist and the Playboy Page 25