Her obvious appreciation for every small thing he did for her - including bringing her to the sort of semi-greasy spoon joint that most women of his acquaintance would have balked at setting foot in - only made Dante feel guiltier, like more of a heel, for what he was even considering doing to her.
“I’m glad you like it. Granted, it’s far from the fanciest place in town, or even in the Mission, but you can’t beat the food.”
Cara nodded, washing down a bite of taco with a sip of her margarita. “It’s great,” she enthused. “And who cares about how fancy it is? Besides, it’s way too hot to even think of getting dressed up tonight.”
The rare ninety degree temperatures in San Francisco earlier today had been one of the reasons he’d insisted on taking her out to dinner this Saturday evening rather than eating at her tiny apartment as usual. With only one small, inadequate window, her place was stifling hot inside, and the thought of eating inside that dark, stuffy room had been more than Dante could handle. Cara had protested, of course, reminding him that he’d taken her out to dinner last night and that it was her turn to return the favor. In response, he’d merely grabbed her hand and tugged her out the door to his car, ignoring her protests that she wasn’t dressed to eat out - garbed in denim cutoffs, a white tank top that clung spectacularly to her eye-popping tits, and rubber flip flops that had seen better days. He’d assured her during the short drive to the taqueria that she would actually be the best dressed patron the place had seen in awhile.
And Cara being the good sport that she was had raved about the food, the authentic atmosphere of the place, and even tapped her foot along to the salsa music being piped out of the wall mounted speakers. For someone who had so little, she was always gracious, always appreciative, and always enthusiastic about the places he brought her to or the things he gave her.
Not, of course, that she let him give her much more than a bottle of wine or a box of fancy bakery cookies when he ate dinner at her place. She had more than her fair share of stubborn pride, and seemed bound and determined to make it through life on her own without depending on anyone to support her.
Just this evening, in fact, when he’d popped inside her stifling hot apartment, he had noticed an unfamiliar laptop sitting on top of the table that doubled as her desk and commented on it.
“Finally got yourself a new computer, I see,” he had remarked, noting that the laptop was a vast improvement from her previous one. “About time. Your old one looked like it was ready to give up the ghost five years ago.”
Cara had shook her head. “That’s not mine. It belongs to Mirai, actually, and I’m just borrowing it for a couple of weeks while mine’s being repaired. Hopefully being repaired, I should say. The guy I brought it to couldn’t promise anything, but he thinks it just needs a new battery.”
He knew that Mirai was her best friend, someone she’d met during her first year at Berkeley, and that she had actually slept on the couch in the other girl’s apartment for the entire spring semester. A couple of times Cara had rather timidly suggested going on some sort of double date with Mirai and whoever she was currently dating, but when he hadn’t seemed too enthused with the idea she had quickly dropped the subject.
Dante had frowned after hearing this news. “I wish you’d stop being so stubborn and just let me buy you a new laptop. It doesn’t have to be anything expensive, there are some good quality ones that only cost a few hundred bucks. That’s probably less than I spend on my dry cleaning for a month. Let me do this for you, honey.”
Predictably, though, she had given a firm shake of her head. “No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, Dante, as usual, but I really don’t want you buying me expensive things. Now, are you positive I’m dressed okay to go out to dinner? I feel like the biggest slob in Slobbovia right now.”
He’d chuckled in response. “You do know that isn’t an actual place, don’t you? And yes, you look fine. Even if you are the most maddeningly stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
He sipped his Negra Modela beer slowly, watching Cara as she savored each bite of her dinner. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met anyone who made eating look so sensual, so enjoyable. With each forkful of food that passed her full, lush lips, she made a little sound of pleasure, and he had to smile as he observed her unabashed delight. There was still so much of the young, innocent girl in her, despite the fact that she was also mature beyond her years. And it was the former, rather than the latter, that had been weighing heavily on his mind these past couple of weeks. Cara had always been too young for him, too sweet and guileless and inexperienced, but he’d continued to be with her anyway because she made him laugh, made him feel good about himself, and he’d been too selfish to break things off and allow her to find someone who could offer her the sort of long-term relationship she deserved.
And now there was the added and unsettling complication of Katie being back in town, and the very, very mixed feelings he continued to have for his ex. She hadn’t wasted any time in contacting the career counseling firm in his building, and had called him the Monday after the wedding to let him know she’d made an appointment later that week. Against his better judgment, he’d agreed to meet her for coffee afterwards, and it had been a struggle for him the entire time not to simply fall back under her spell.
And Katie wasn’t making it easy for him. She was texting and calling and emailing him on a regular basis, always under the pretext of asking his advice about careers and college and even investments. In the two weeks since the wedding, they’d met for coffee one additional time and lunch just yesterday. Katie had casually asked about his plans for the weekend, and hadn’t bothered to disguise the crestfallen look on her face when he’d acknowledged that he had a date. But thus far she hadn’t said a word about the possibility of getting back together, had been careful to keep things lighthearted and casual, and to tell him on a frequent basis how grateful she was for his friendship. She had also expressed her regrets several times now about the way she’d ended things between them in February, calling herself a fool for letting someone like him go, and wistfully envying the woman he was currently dating.
The suspicion continued to nag at him that Katie was simply putting on an act – for what purpose he wasn’t exactly sure. But then he’d recall how awful her performance had been in that sitcom, and thought that she couldn’t possibly be acting now because she seemed so genuine and sincere.
Having lunch with her yesterday had felt so much like old times that he’d had to remind himself several times that they were no longer together. He and Katie had always fit together well, had been a perfect match in nearly every way, and she had blended into his social and personal life almost seamlessly. His friends, co-workers, clients, and at least the male members of his family had all been a little in awe of Katie, telling Dante over and over again what a lucky bastard he was to have landed someone as gorgeous, sexy, and charming as she was.
And when Katie had first agreed to go out with him soon after they’d met at Laine and Brandon’s engagement party, he had felt like he was back in high school, and dating the prettiest and most popular girl in his class. Katie, in fact, had reminded him of Heather Chase, the only girl in his high school who hadn’t fallen all over him. Heather had been incredibly pretty - tall, shapely, and blonde - but had also been an elitist snob. Her father had been a multi-millionaire, and Heather had considered Dante - whose family worked mostly in the restaurant, law enforcement, and construction businesses - to be several rungs beneath her on the social scale. Her rejection had stung more than he had ever admitted, and had served as a motivating factor in making his venture capital firm as successful as it currently was.
Snagging a prize like Katie had more than made up for a long-ago snub by some privileged high school homecoming queen. In fact, Dante had taken great pride in bringing Katie along as his date last year to an event at a local winery in Healdsburg that he knew Heather would be attending. After marriage and two children, Heather
hadn’t looked quite as good as she had in high school, and there had been little doubt that the woman on Dante’s arm had far outshone her.
And, of course, his physical relationship with Katie had been nothing short of dynamite. She’d been experienced, confident, and sensual, and not the least bit hesitant to let him know what she liked in terms of sex. There had been certain times, however, when he’d suspected that she was using sex to get something from him - whether that something was a shopping spree, an expensive dinner out at a new restaurant she’d read about, or simply to coerce him into doing things her way. He’d been too besotted by her, however, to ever confront her with his suspicions.
She had also been a bit difficult at times when it came to seeing his family, teasingly calling him a mama’s boy for visiting his mother so often, or acting sullen and withdrawn when he wouldn’t forego attending his aunt and uncle’s anniversary party so that he could take her to the theater instead. But after he had made it clear to Katie that spending time with his family was very important to him, she’d backed off and acted mostly supportive - even if she hadn’t always enjoyed herself during those visits.
Dante had been confident, though, that he and Katie would have worked all of that out, and that once they were officially engaged her attitude towards his family would have changed for the better. At this point in time, however, he couldn’t vouch for the sort of reception she might receive from certain members of his family, given the circumstances behind their break-up earlier this year. It would definitely take some time and care before he’d realistically be able to bring Katie to a family event again.
He shook his head in annoyance as he returned his attention to his food. Why in hell was he even thinking about bringing Katie to see his family when they weren’t even dating any longer? Just because they were actually speaking to each other again, and she was being especially contrite and sweet, didn’t mean a damned thing. Oh, he knew that she would jump at the opportunity to resume their relationship. That much was obvious, and no one could be that good of an actor. But he was nowhere near ready to trust her again, was unwilling to simply pick up where they’d left off last winter. And then, of course, there was Cara to consider.
At present, she was busy licking a glob of guacamole from her fingers, moaning in appreciation as she did so, and Dante couldn’t suppress a chuckle. God, she was really adorable, and a hell of a lot of fun to be around! But sometimes - like tonight - he became uncomfortably aware of the difference not just in their ages but also in their experiences, level of sophistication, and where they each were in their lives right now. He was more than ten years her senior, had finished his college degree over a decade ago, and owned a successful, established business. He’d traveled extensively, dated dozens of different women, and was at a point where settling down and starting a family sounded more and more appealing.
Cara, on the other hand, still had another year or more before she’d be finished with college. And after working so hard for that degree, there was little doubt that she’d want to have a career for several years before getting married and becoming a mother. Plus, she deserved the chance to travel, date other men, and enjoy herself. Asking her to make a commitment to him at this stage of her life would be grossly unfair.
Discreetly, Dante took in Cara’s makeup-free face; her wild, unruly mane of curls that she’d hastily pulled into a messy ponytail; her short, unpolished nails. If she owned any jewelry she had never bothered to wear it in his presence. Her white tank top was probably a size too small, and he winced to notice the salsa stain just over her right breast. The frayed denim cut-offs were also on the snug side, and while she had painted her toenails a bright crimson, the polish was badly chipped. Admittedly, he’d all but dragged her out of her apartment before she had an opportunity to tidy herself up a bit, but there was no escaping the fact that she looked anything but sleek and sophisticated tonight.
Unlike Katie’s perfectly put together appearance at their lunch yesterday. Her makeup had been applied with an expert hand, and her blonde hair had looked so sleek and shiny he’d wondered if she had had it professionally blown out that morning. Both her manicure and pedicure had been flawless, and the summery sheath dress she’d worn of a pale saffron yellow had fit her to perfection. A gold bangle bracelet and dainty hoop earrings had completed her classy but sexy outfit.
The contrast between the two women was worlds apart - Cara being the quintessential girl next door while Katie was the girl men dreamed about. One was the girl you brought home to meet your mother, while the other was the woman you paraded arrogantly in front of your friends. And ever since he’d met the latter again two weeks ago, Dante had been tormenting himself about what to do about his current situation.
Cara downed the last of her margarita - the second one she’d had tonight - and regarded him with a concerned expression on her face. “Are you positive you’re okay?” she asked worriedly. “Because you’ve barely eaten half your dinner, and have hardly said a word all night. Are you upset with me about something? Or don’t you feel well?”
He felt like the biggest, most insensitive asshole ever born at her obvious concern for him. Especially when he’d just been comparing her appearance to another woman’s and finding hers lacking. Dante had never thought of himself as either shallow or unkind, but he had been both of those things - and worse - just a few minutes earlier. Cara couldn’t help it, for God’s sake, that she couldn’t afford to get her hair and nails done on a regular basis, or that her wardrobe left a lot to be desired. And though her refusal to accept gifts from him - like the laptop he’d offered to buy her earlier today - was a source of constant frustration, he also admired her all the more for it.
“I could never be upset with you, honey,” he told her earnestly. “I’ve just got some stuff I’m working through at the moment, that’s all. As for the food, I think the hot weather today has me feeling a little off. Plus, I met my brother for a late brunch after the gym so I’m not all that hungry.”
Cara reached for her glass of ice water. “Does your brother live in the city, too, or was he just visiting?”
Dante realized just how little he’d shared with her about his family, and felt another pang of guilt assail him. “Rafe lives in San Francisco, too, though fortunately far enough away from my place that he can’t just drop in whenever he feels like it. He has a house on Potrero Hill that he renovated by himself. He did a great job on the place, especially considering what a dump it was when he bought it. Rafe’s in construction, owns the business, and has done really well for himself.”
She gave a hollow sounding little laugh. “You know, it just occurred to me that I don’t even know where you live! I mean, aside from your place being in San Francisco, that is.”
Once more he felt like a total douchebag, all too aware that he’d kept certain facts about his life hidden from her. But he had stopped giving out his home address to the women he’d dated - with the exception of Katie - after one of his former girlfriends had basically stalked him outside of his condo building, and he’d had to file for a restraining order against her.
It went without saying, though, that Cara would never dream of doing something so extreme. He could barely recall the last time she’d even sent him a text. Unlike Katie, he thought guiltily, who had texted him and left a voicemail just this morning.
“I live on Russian Hill,” he replied. “Not far from North Beach, so that I can get my fix of good Italian food whenever I want.”
Cara nodded. “I know the area. One of Angela’s clients lives around there, and since she’s elderly I’ve brought papers over to her house from time to time for her to sign. You must have an incredible view.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty spectacular, especially since I live on the top floor.”
“The penthouse, huh? No wonder you get to have three parking spaces in the building,” she joked.
Dante smiled faintly in response as he placed his credit card on the plastic g
uest check holder by his plate. “It does have it’s privileges, that’s for sure.”
Cara didn’t push him for any additional details, though he knew she had to be curious to learn more about his personal life. And while he appreciated her respect for his privacy, it didn’t make him feel like any less of a jerk for keeping her at arms length.
The drive back to her place - in his father’s classic Camaro this time - was made in relative silence. For once, Cara curbed her chattiness, obviously well aware that he wasn’t in the mood to do much talking.
Once inside that dimly lit, stifling hot hovel she called an apartment, Dante couldn’t repress a shudder as his gaze fell on the folded out futon. As airless as the room was right now, he didn’t think there was any way he’d be able to fuck Cara on that scratchy, uncomfortable mattress tonight. But from the hopeful look in her eyes as she pressed herself up against him, she evidently didn’t feel the same way.
He ran his palms up and down her bare arms. “Honey, as hot as this place feels, I’m not sure sex is going to happen tonight. I’m already sweating and I haven’t even kissed you.”
She slid her arms around his waist, gazing up at him mischievously. “We could just take a shower afterwards,” she suggested helpfully. “Too bad the stall is so small, or we could take a shower during sex.”
Dante thought longingly of the enormous granite shower in his master bathroom, more than big enough for two people to have all sorts of fun in. He’d never been as tempted as he was at this moment to whisk Cara back to the car and drive to his condo, where they could happily fuck all night long in air conditioned bliss - not to mention on a huge, comfy king sized bed.
But to do so now would be to take a serious step in their relationship that he just wasn’t ready to do - and might never be ready to do, he realized with a pang.
He shook his head. “I’ve seen your shower, Cara mia, and frankly I’m not sure how you even squeeze into it, petite as you are. Maybe we should just give it a rest tonight, honey. God knows I’ve been lousy company these past few hours. I wouldn’t blame you in the least for not being in the mood for sex under the circumstances.”
Stronger Page 19