by A. m Madden
Yes, there was no doubt he was related to one of my best friends. Friends. As much as I loved the relationship I had with Luca, for some reason the same type of relationship with Dante didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies.
Memories of how Dante held me when we danced were still vivid in my head. That was definitely not the way one would dance with their friend. We walked again until we came to an empty bench. Dante placed his free hand on my back, sending that familiar zing through my body.
When we sat down, our thighs brushed and both of us turned to look at each other. He ran his thumb along his bottom lip, and all I wanted to do was suck it into my mouth. It was then I realized being just friends with Dante Benedetto wasn’t going to be enough for me.
“Thanks for meeting me today.”
“Thanks for asking.” It seemed as though he wanted to say something else, but when he didn’t I looked away to stare at the cloudless blue sky while inhaling deeply. “In a few short months, when winter arrives, we’ll be wishing for these days again.” The sun beating down on us wasn’t to blame for me feeling so overheated. It was the way he looked at me, sitting right beside me, like his one and only mission was to get into my space both mentally and physically. I couldn’t read this man. I had no idea what ran through his mind as he shamelessly continued to stare at me.
But when he said, “Hey, have dinner with me?” it was the last thing I expected.
Chapter 8
Dante
When the cab pulled up to my building, Cassie dipped her head and looked out the window. “You’re staying with Luca?” she said to the glass before twisting her gaze to me.
“Nope. I live here too.” Once I paid the fare, I leaned past her to open the door. Hearing her tiny gasp as my arm skimmed the side of her body had me fighting a grin. She was a bundle of nerves, and whatever ran through that pretty little head of hers caused her to pause with one foot out the door. “What’s the problem, beautiful?”
“We’re having dinner at your place?”
“That’s the plan.” A grumble from the front seat forced me to add, “You better scoot out or our cabbie is taking us for another spin.” Her pale-blue eyes glanced at the grumpy old man before coming back to my face. Feeling she needed reassurance, I leaned closer and placed my lips against her ear. “I don’t bite.”
“You goin’ or what?” Grumpy barked.
Resuming my position near her ear, I whispered, “But he may.” My comment garnered a small smile. But the way she puckered her lips and blew out a breath could only mean she was nervous to be alone with me. “Don’t you trust me, Cassie?” I asked as she followed me into the lobby.
“Of course I do.”
After a friendly wave at the doorman, I waited until we were at the elevator before asking, “Then why do you look like I’m about to bind and gag you?” I had to admit, just the thought sent a surge of blood down south. Seeing her widen her eyes and bite her lip, I had to refrain from moaning out loud.
“I don’t look like that,” she replied defensively.
“Yes, you do.” When I stepped into the elevator and she remained out of it, I folded my arms to prove my point. A forced smile spread over her lips as she stepped inside.
“I’m just… I’m not weird or anything… It’s just…” I began to enjoy her fumbling a bit too much. It made her equal parts awkward and sexy, again revealing the contradicting sides of who she was. I knew her well enough to know that silently staring at her drove her nuts. That observation was proven when she then rasped out, “You make me nervous.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I said, punching my floor number. At my smirk, she suppressed her own smile and then rolled her eyes. “Why do I make you nervous?”
“I never know what you’re thinking, especially when you’re staring at me.”
The elevator jerked enough for her to tightly grip the bar behind her. Standing so close, I could smell her perfume. It was the same sassy scent she’d worn to dinner the other night—the same scent that stayed with me well after we parted. Mesmerized by the royal-blue specks surrounding her black pupils, before they faded into her pale irises, forced an urge to touch her. But the rose-colored natural tint of her lips fueled the need to kiss her.
“All you have to do is ask me. I have nothing to hide.”
“Okay.” She swallowed, and my eyes shifted to the tempting column of her throat. “What are you thinking now?”
“That I want to kiss you.” On my admission, those perfect lips parted while her eyes stayed focused on mine. “But doing so in an elevator doesn’t feel right. So I’ll wait.”
“You’re very presumptuous.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her observation. “Am I?” The elevator’s ding announced our arrival. “Saved by the bell, Miss Brooks.” Stepping to the opened door, I waved her through with a smile. But just before we reached my apartment, I took her hand to stop her.
“It’s dinner, Cassie.” Her skittish behavior made me feel the need to say that out loud. I watched as her eyes searched my face before a sweet smile spread. “We’ll talk, get to know each other. Okay?”
“I’m sorry. You must think that I’m…” I stopped her with a finger against her lips.
“All I think…” I said, raising a brow to emphasize my point, “is that you’re someone I want to get to know.”
Her eyes rolled down to where my finger was, and then raised again to meet mine. Smirking, I dropped my hand, allowing her to speak. “I think I’d like that too.”
The smile that appeared across my face couldn’t be stopped if I wanted to. There was something about this woman that awakened a part of me that had been dormant for quite a while.
The sound of the notches of my key sliding into my lock seemed amplified. It felt like we were on a precipice, and once we crossed the threshold things were going to change between us. When I moved aside to let Cassie in, she glanced at me before taking a step. It was then I realized she felt the same as I did.
Cassie set her small bag down and began to peruse the space. “Wow, this is beautiful.” Even though I had just moved in, pride swelled in my chest. Clean lines, contemporary masculine gray hues and décor, boasted my style—less is more. I watched as she walked deeper into my apartment. “Impressive that you’ve recently moved in. You’d never know it by looking around. I had boxes in my apartment for what felt like months.”
“Thank you. My studio is in the spare bedroom, so time was a factor.” Just as I was about to ask if she wanted a tour, she looked at the large portrait of Charlene. Granted, it was difficult to miss considering it covered most of my living-room wall.
Dread began to stir in my gut. There was no doubt Charlene was a stunning woman, and the picture accentuated all her best assets. Hazel eyes that could bring any man to his knees, a heart-shaped face, and pouting lips were all her. But the innovative way I edited it, by piecing together slices of photos, won me several awards.
She stood and studied the portrait. Part of me wondered what she thought of it, but for the small amount of time I’d known Cassie, I was sure she was about to tell me. “She’s beautiful.” Cassie’s smile was brilliant when she turned to look at me. “Friend of yours?”
“We lost touch,” I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. For some reason, talking about my ex-girlfriend with Cassie didn’t sit well with me. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“I’d love some.” I walked into my kitchen and poured us each a glass of cabernet. Cassie’s brows puckered as I handed her the glass. She hadn’t moved while studying the portrait. “Did I tell you I teach kindergarten?”
“I believe you did, why?” I took a sip of my wine, letting the tepid liquid rest on my tongue before swallowing.
“Well, anytime one of my students doesn’t want to talk about something, they change the subject… like you just did. If you don’t want to talk about her, we don’t have to, but getting to know each other was your idea… remember?”
What the hell was I supposed to say to that? She was spot on. Granted, being compared to a five- or six-year-old wasn’t an ideal compliment, but she sure pegged me perfectly. “It’s a long story.”
“Okay.” She began to casually stroll around my living room, looking at pictures. When she saw one of Luca, my sister, and my parents, she paused. “This is a nice picture. I don’t remember your brother having any of you at his place. If he did, our first meeting might have gone a bit differently.”
“Really?” I laughed. “You mean you wouldn’t have barreled into us?”
Cassie clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “Take that back.”
“Again, you’re trying that tactic?” This time she was the one laughing. “The reason I have pictures and he doesn’t is probably because I’m always behind the camera. It’s a long-standing joke with our family. God forbid I were to die; there wouldn’t be any pictures of me.”
At that moment, Cassie set her glass down on the side table, pulled her phone from her purse, and held it in the air. “Smile.” Before I could decline, the shutter on her cell sounded. “There, now you’ll be immortalized in my phone.” Proud as she was cute, she tucked it back in her purse. “How about a tour?”
“Come.” With my hand on the small of her back I guided her down the short hallway. After I flicked on the light in my studio, Cassie took a step inside. A tornado of thoughts began to coil inside of me. How I’d love to photograph her, pose her in such a way she’d rival any model I’d ever shot.
“Wow, Dante.” She slid a fingertip down one of the rigid metal legs of the tripod. “This is really impressive.”
“Thank you. I was very fortunate to find an apartment that afforded me to have a studio at home. It makes my commute much easier… when I don’t have to shoot on location, at least.”
Cassie sighed. “I’d love to be able to work from home. I don’t even think I’d get dressed.” When I didn’t respond right away, because I was picturing Cassie naked, she added, “What I meant was, if I didn’t need to be in front of anyone, I would stay in my yoga pants all day.”
“Well, this is my office, so to speak, so I need to get dressed. However, if you ever want to be my subject, my wardrobe is negotiable.”
A deep blush covered her face. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Actually, I don’t.” I couldn’t blame her for the assumption, but I spoke the truth. None of my actions since meeting her had been typical for me. Her eyes stayed on mine for a few seconds. And whether it was the look on my face, or the definitive tone in my voice, based on her small nod and shy smile, she must have believed me.
Cassie
Every word out of the man’s mouth set my insides on fire. Were they just lines he used to get what he wanted? Or was what he said true? Caught in that magnetic pull he had over me, it took a few seconds too long before I could avert my eyes from his in an attempt to school my thoughts.
“Having you in here makes me want to get in photographer mode. Come.” He shifted his body toward the doorway, continuing the tour. Lifting his hand, he pointed to an open door. “That’s the guest bathroom.” Dante then twisted a brass knob, looking at me with darkened eyes before opening the door.
Thunder impaired my hearing, knowing there was only one room left… his bedroom. So much could be said about where one slept. Did they use it as their place of solace? Was it decorated in deep rich hues or was it bright and cheerful? Were his walls covered with images of beautiful women?
Stepping inside, I released a relieved breath at seeing several landscape portraits rather than people. “Did you take these?” His returning nod seemed shy compared to the brazen man he was. The images he captured were mesmerizing, tranquil, hypnotic. The room instantly calmed in an understated way. “They’re stunning.”
“Thank you.”
Masculine cologne lingered in the air, forcing me to use every ounce of willpower I had to stop from audibly inhaling. His king-size bed was covered in a dark charcoal duvet. Unlike the collection of throw pillows I had on my bed, Dante had just four covered in burgundy silk pillowcases, propped up against the black-leather tufted headboard.
My hand itched to graze the fabric, which I was sure to be soft. “Your bed looks extremely comfortable.” Dante quirked a brow. Jesus, Cassie, stop acting like this is the first guy’s bedroom that you’ve seen.
“Like a cloud.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “Hungry?” God, am I ever. When I didn’t reply right away, Dante chuckled. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.”
Sitting at his small breakfast bar, I thought that watching Dante gracefully move around his kitchen was something to be seen. After only a few minutes he had zucchini, carrots, cherry tomatoes, and bell peppers on a cutting board. He filled a pot with water and put it next to a sauté pan on the stove.
Needing to occupy myself with something other than staring, I offered my assistance. “Can I help you with anything?”
Dante shook his head. “No, I got this. You like pasta, right? You’re not one of those people who don’t eat carbs, are you? Or allergic to gluten?”
“Me? No, I love carbs and gluten.” Ugh, Cassie. Who says they love gluten? What the hell was wrong with me? “Is there more wine?”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Dante said with a chuckle. “And yes.” He filled my glass and set the bottle down before resuming slicing vegetables as if he were a professional chef. Cords of muscles flexed in his forearm with every slice, chop, and dice. Funny, I never noticed a man’s forearms before meeting him.
“So both you and your brother like to cook?” I remember Sabrina telling me about the time Luca made dinner for her and won her heart with how much thought he put into it.
“It’s something my mother and grandmother instilled in us.” Dante walked over to the stove, put olive oil in the frying pan, and dumped in the vegetables. With a wooden spoon he had pulled out from a drawer, he began stirring while seasoning them. “This…” he said, holding up the spoon, “was what kept me and my brother in line. It only took one smack on the ass to know this was more of a weapon than a utensil. After that, our mother just needed to place it on the counter for us to obey.”
I laughed. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard about an Italian mother and a wooden spoon. “I’ll remember that.”
“I bet you will.” We stared at each other for a moment before the boiling pot caught his attention.
“Do you speak with her often? I know Luca does.” I goaded him further. “Or is he the favorite?”
“No, my little brother is just a kiss-ass. He always tried to outdo me, until I retaliated. But since you’re so concerned, I did speak to her the day after I met you. Of course, I had to tell her about the accident and my warm welcome to the city.”
The wine I sipped caught in my throat. Through a choppy cough, I sputtered, “You did not. I’ve met her, so to speak, and if you told her anything other than what a jerk you were that night, I might need to set the record straight. You know, Isabella and I are great friends.” Now it was my turn to wink… even though that wasn’t the full truth, it was fun to see him squirm. “Your brother introduced us via Skype one Sunday afternoon.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to mention to her how I saved your ass when I spoke to the adjuster, not to mention your shy demeanor.”
“Whatever,” I teased. Maybe goading him wasn’t the best-laid plan.
Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting at his dining table, enjoying the best pasta I had ever tasted.
“You like?” Dante asked before sliding a forkful of bow-tie pasta into his mouth.
“Yes, I like a lot.” Not only did I like the pasta, I also liked the wine, the ambiance he created with soft music and lighting… and him. Oh my God, I liked him.
Crap.
Chapter 9
Dante
Dinner went better than I had hoped, except I had one problem… a big one. Hearing her moan after every other forkful of pasta made me ro
ck hard. It took all the effort I could muster not to limp to the sofa we now sat on.
Everything about this woman intrigued me. There was so much to learn about Cassie, and tonight that would happen. Getting to know her on every level was my ultimate goal. Luca spoke so fondly of her, so I knew I needed to tread lightly. She wasn’t just some woman—she was my brother’s best friend.
“Tell me more about yourself.” I slowly brought my leg up on the cushion and turned to face her. “So far, I know you’re a teacher and aspire to be the next female NASCAR driver.”
“Ha ha, very funny. What do you want to know?” Cassie nervously bit her bottom lip. “I’m really not that exciting.”
My head tilted to the side. “No, sorry. I’m not buying that. Have you always wanted to be a school teacher?”
“Pretty much. I’ve always loved being around kids. When I was a teenager, I’d volunteer as a reading tutor for underprivileged kids. There were so many who never had a bedtime story read to them, it broke my heart. Can you imagine not being able to read?” Her pale-blue eyes softened, but all I could think of was her reading me a story while lying in my bed. My silence prompted her to ask with a grin, “You can read, right?”
“If I say no, will you read to me in bed?” Granted, reading wouldn’t be the first activity I’d want to partake in between the sheets, but it would be a start. She blinked at me, and then I got a scolding expression I assumed she practiced on her students often. “I’m kidding. I can read. Not one for books, though. I never really have the time to invest in them. I’m more of a… magazine kind of guy.”
“Magazines, huh?” Her full lips quirked to the side mockingly.
“Well, you know what they say, men’s magazines are known for their articles.”
She shimmied her perfect ass on the couch. “Yes, I know. I’ve read them.”
What? Needing to get the visual that took hold in my mind of a naked Cassie as the centerfold, I brought the subject back to her. “So you know my brother, and apparently my mom as well. Tell me about your family.”