Old Flame: Dante’s Story: (Morelli Family, #8)

by Mariano, Sam

  With a satisfied huff, she mutters, “I slave away all day to make your favorite meal, least you can do is eat it.”

  I roll my eyes at her and grab the wine glasses, heading back to the couch to wait for Dante. A minute or so later, he sinks back into the couch, puts Daisy on his chest, and puts one of her toys down on his chest for her to play with. She doesn’t play with her toys much, probably because the colorful rat toy beside her is the size of her whole head. She still tries to tackle it, though, and it’s adorable to watch her attempts to best the little plushy mouse.

  Sighing, I lean my head on his arm and watch Daisy play. “She’s so cute. I can’t handle it.”

  “She is pretty cute,” he acknowledges. “Do I win the ‘best boyfriend’ award for picking out such a cute kitten?”

  I elbow him for the tone of his voice as he ridicules the term boyfriend. I know he’s not a fan, I never call him that myself, but it is the conventional term for what he is, so he shouldn’t be so salty Declan’s brother used it.

  “What would you prefer I call you, then?” I ask, lightly teasing.

  “How about husband?” he suggests.

  My stomach drops at the mere idea of referring to him as my husband. I lean forward to grab my wine glass and take a sip, then I put it down and lean back on the couch. “Maybe someday.”

  “How about next weekend?” he asks.

  I stare at him, my tummy turning over and over. “What are you talking about?”

  “I told Mateo I need to take a week or so off after everything goes down.” Reaching past Daisy and into his jacket pocket, he draws out a box I recognize from the day I rummaged through the junk drawer.

  “Dante…” I breathe, staring at the ring box. “It’s… it’s so soon. I haven’t even been back for that long…”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he states, lazily popping it open to show me the gorgeous diamond ring nestled there. “I’ve wanted you since before I even knew your name, Colette. I think it’s time you finally took mine.”

  My heart pounds like a drum and my stomach is a mess. My hands tremble as I draw the ring out of the box and slide it on my empty finger to see how it looks. “It’s so beautiful, Dante.”

  Daisy catches sight of something shiny and abandons her mouse, crawling across Dante to get to me. She watches my ring, then flops down on my hand and rolls around on top of it. I laugh at her, surprised at the faint burn of tears behind my eyes. I don’t know why I’m crying, but before I can even think about it, big, dumb tears well up in my eyes.

  “Is that a yes?” Dante asks, faintly amused. “Daisy thinks you should say yes.”

  “Do I even get a say?” I ask, only halfway joking.

  “Of course. Unless you say no,” he replies, also only halfway joking.

  I laugh and push him in the arm, then I scoop up Daisy so I don’t crush her and lean in to kiss him. “Yes. Of course I’ll marry you, you crazy man.”

  “Good. I already have us booked for a honeymoon suite in Santorini, so I would’ve had to kidnap you again if you’d have said no.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we? I’ve been your captive girlfriend, no need to make me your captive bride, too.”

  “Now no one can ever call me your fucking boyfriend again,” he states, satisfied.

  “Are we inviting your family to the wedding?” I inquire.

  “Nope,” he states. “It’ll be me, you, and Daisy.”

  I grin at him. “We’re bringing Daisy?”

  “Of course we are. She’s part of the family, isn’t she?”

  Grinning bigger, I lean in and kiss him again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  33

  Colette

  After a gorgeous day spent sailing the clear blue sea on a chartered yacht, the sun is down and we have made our way back to the hotel to rest up before the big day tomorrow. We already had a delicious dinner prepared for us by the chef on the staffed yacht, but when Dante comes out to join me on our private balcony overlooking the water, he brings a plate of fresh fruit.

  “Mm, my hero,” I tell him, snuggling back against him and taking the plate.

  “If my bride is hungry, it’s my job to make sure she has a snack,” he tells me, wrapping his arms around me snugly.

  Biting into a juicy strawberry, I sigh with contentment and rest my head back against his shoulder. “This is nice. I’m glad we came a few days early. I haven’t been on a vacation in forever.”

  “Your lawyer didn’t take you anywhere?” he asks, but without any heat.

  I shake my head and take another bite of my strawberry. “Wouldn’t have been the same without you. You’re my favorite travel buddy.”

  Squeezing my side and wordlessly threatening to tickle me, he says, “Buddy. That’s worse than boyfriend.”

  “My favorite travel person,” I offer, tipping my head back to look up at his beautiful face. “How’s that?”

  He bends to kiss my forehead. “Better.”

  “Greece is as beautiful as I remember it,” I tell him, looking back out at the ocean of blue under the dark evening sky.

  His arms tighten around me. “Yes, it is.”

  Inside our room, a beautiful white dress hangs on the outside of the closet door. Tomorrow, I’ll wear it on the beach at sunset, at my wedding. It won’t be quite the way I always imagined it—none of our loved ones will be there, not even my future husband’s family. It will be us, an officiant, and a photographer—no one else. It still feels more like my perfect wedding than the one I planned with Declan, because this one has the right groom. The night before my wedding to Declan, I couldn’t stop looking at my bridal gown and obsessing over the details, but tonight, everything else is an afterthought. The details don’t matter, only the end result. After the longest of roads, tomorrow I will finally marry the man my heart belongs to.

  “I have a wedding gift for you,” I tell him, grabbing another delicious strawberry. “Do you want it tonight, or would you rather wait until after we’re actually married?”

  “You didn’t have to get me a gift,” he states, rather surly for a man about to receive a present. “Spending the rest of your life with me is your gift. It’s good for birthdays,” he says, kissing the ball of my shoulder, “Christmases,” he adds, kissing his way in toward my neck. “All the gift-giving holidays.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair. You get me gifts all the time,” I tell him.

  “You like getting gifts. I don’t.”

  Sighing, I shoot him a grumpy look back over my shoulder. “Well, you’ll like this one, you big ingrate. Now, do you want it tonight or tomorrow?”

  “Up to you.”

  I shake my head. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

  “So are you,” he informs me.

  “I’m your favorite pain in the ass,” I tell him, leaning back to shoot him a cheeky grin.

  “My very favorite,” he agrees.

  I smile and pucker up my lips for a kiss. He leans down and gives me one, so I murmur against his lips, “Don’t worry, you’re my favorite, too.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” he states.

  “Ugh.” I grab a pillow from the couch we’re lounging on and hit him with it. “Forget it, no gift for you, you arrogant man.”

  “Oh, come on,” he says, taking the pillow from me and tossing it to the other end of the cushion. “I’m looking forward to it now.”

  “You are not,” I say, sullenly.

  “I am. I’ve never been so excited in my life,” he insists.

  “Don’t you lie to me, Dante Morelli.”

  “I would never,” he promises.

  “Well, it’s too late now,” I tell him, cheekily. “No present for you.”

  He lets me finish my strawberry, but as soon as I deposit the top on the plate, he snatches it out of my hand.

  “Hey,” I object, as he sits up and forces me forward. “You’re my comfy cushion, what are you doing?”

&nbs
p; “Taking my present.” He puts the fruit plate down and lifts me into his arms. I wrap my arm around his neck and he carries me inside, past the couch and Daisy’s kitten bed where she’s curled up, soundly sleeping. He carries me all the way to the bedroom, but before he can toss me down like he usually does, I lock my arms around his neck.

  “Gently, please.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at my unnatural request, but puts me down softly anyway.

  As soon as he climbs on top of me, my hands slide under the crisp white fabric of his T-shirt. “I’ll never get used to you in casual wear,” I tell him.

  Smirking and nodding at the bikini top I’m wearing, he says, “Funny, your casual wear is my favorite part of vacations.”

  Inexpertly, I yank his shirt off and fling it off the bed. Biting down on my lip, I look over his sun-bronzed skin, running my fingers over the chiseled muscles along his abdomen. “God, you’re hot.”

  That startles a little laugh out of him. “Oh yeah?” he asks, leadingly, lowering himself to eliminate the distance between our bodies.

  “That’s my opinion, anyway,” I tease, snaking my hands down between us and unbuttoning his charcoal grey shorts.

  “Your opinion’s the only one that counts,” he assures me.

  Sighing with contentment, I bring my arms up and wrap them around his neck, looking into his dark eyes. “I love you.”

  His lips curve up only a little, but I can see his happiness in his eyes. My heart fills up because I know I’m the one who put it there.

  His gaze leaves mine and rakes over my body beneath him, then he unfastens my sarong and spreads it open. Next, he slides his hands down the front of my bathing suit bottoms. I gasp and hold onto him tighter, but all of a sudden, I can’t keep in my surprise any longer.

  “Wait,” I tell him, closing my legs on his hand. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to wait. I want to give you your wedding present now.”

  Clearly unimpressed with my timing, he asks, “Right now?”

  “Right this very moment.”

  “You want me to let you off the bed, right now?”

  I shake my head, barely biting back a grin. “I don’t have to get off the bed, I have it right here with me.”

  His eyes narrow with suspicion. “Must be a tiny gift.”

  I nod my agreement. “Very tiny.”

  “Where is this tiny, mysterious present?”

  Silently thanking him for the perfect set-up, I grab his big hand and flatten it over my tummy.

  His gaze sharpens, his playfulness dissipating. “You’re pregnant?”

  Nodding my head, I tell him, “You’re gonna be a daddy.”

  “I’m gonna be a daddy,” he repeats, in mild disbelief.

  Biting down on my bottom lip, I nod more vigorously. “Are you… excited?”

  For a moment that drags on long enough for me to get nervous, he doesn’t respond. I can’t quite read his face, so I’m not sure what he’s feeling. A couple more seconds pass and I start to panic, wondering if his messed up childhood has shaped him differently, given him a skewed view of what it means to become a father. I know he wanted to get me pregnant, but the panic clouds my thinking and I can’t be sure if it was because he felt ready to start a family, or just because he wanted to mark me.

  Before I have time to work myself up into a full-blown panic, Dante envelops me in the tightest hug he’s ever given me. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

  Relief sets in and reignites my excitement. Squeezing him back, I tell him, “We sure are.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Pulling back, he asks, “How long have you known?”

  “Not long,” I assure him. “I held onto it instead of telling you right away because I wanted it to be special. I figured holed up in a honeymoon cave in Greece, the night before we get married? Probably the right time.”

  “Christ. You’ve outdone me; this is a better gift than a kitten.”

  Grinning up at him, I lightly shove him in his well-muscled chest. “Hey, Daisy is delightful.”

  Grabbing the back of my neck, he kisses me and murmurs against my lips, “You’re delightful.”

  I can’t resist teasing him just one more time, so I break away from the kiss and ask innocently, “Best girlfriend ever?”

  Dante rolls his eyes at me. “Best wife ever.”

  Epilogue

  Dante

  If there’s one thing you can always count on at a party my brother is paying for, it’s that he will spare no expense and go completely overboard.

  Today, we’re here for my niece Rosalie’s sixth birthday party. I know Rosalie is crazy for princesses, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when we stroll through the archway into the back yard and it looks like a fucking carnival is in town. Disney princesses have their own zones—Elsa is passing out snow cones, Belle is reading to a small group of children under a rose-adorned canopy, Tiana is hosting some kind of cooking class, and Ariel is set up by the pool showing a little girl a fork and inexplicably using it to brush a lock of her long red hair. Cinderella is all decked out in a ball gown, but she’s running around cleaning up after everyone, affecting a painfully cute voice and saying things like, “Oh, my, how did this mess get here? Better clean it up before Gus Gus finds it. He’ll get a tummy ache if he eats all this food.”

  It is utterly ridiculous.

  Beside me, I hear a gasp and a small hand clutches mine tightly. I look down at my daughter and see her eyes wide with wonder. “Daddy, look at all the princesses!” Tugging desperately on my hand, she attempts to drag me across the lawn. “Come on, come on!”

  “Look, there’s a bounce house, too,” Colette points out, adjusting our fussy son on her shoulder and gently patting his back.

  “And a unicorn!” Gia shrieks, releasing my hand and dashing toward a white pony decked out in purple flowers with a horn on its head. She stops after only a few feet though, looking around as if she can’t decide where to go first.

  A familiar voice rings out, drawing my attention to the French doors leading out of the house and into the back yard. Mia approaches with a big smile on her face and a veggie tray in her hands. “You made it. We waited a few minutes, but the princesses—” She stops, looking down at Gia, then decides not to say whatever she had been planning to say. “Oh, look at this, we have another princess in attendance. I love your dress, Gia.”

  Gia puffs up with pride and smiles. “Thanks! I picked it out myself.”

  “You have excellent taste,” Mia assures her, bending down to match her height. “Would you like a carrot stick to munch on?”

  “She doesn’t eat carrots,” I tell Mia, just before my daughter runs over and snatches a carrot stick off the tray like it’s a chocolate bar.

  Mia smirks up at me. “She does for me.”

  I shake my head at her. “Witch.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Mia.” Gia takes a bite of the carrot stick, then looks around. “There’s so many princesses, I don’t know what one to pick.”

  “Well, you don’t have to pick. They’re here all day, so you’ll have plenty of time to do everything. Tiana’s teaching us how to make her famous beignets, but the powdered sugar can be a little messy, so if you head there first, make sure to grab an apron so you don’t ruin your pretty dress, okay? Did you bring a swimsuit?”

  Gia nods and points back at Colette. “My mommy has it.”

  “Oh, good. You might get wet playing with Ariel, so maybe save that one for a little later since you’re dressed so nicely right now. Rapunzel is painting faces over by her tower, how about you start over there?”

  “Yeah! Can I pet the unicorn, too?”

  “Of course you can,” Mia says, glancing over at the unicorn. “Her name is Glimmer, she’s from Rosalie’s favorite book series. A little bit later, Glimmer is going to take kids on princess carriage rides around the driveway. Won’t that be fun?”

  “Yeah, yeah!”

  “Do unicorns usually pull carriages?” I inquire, earn
ing a hard nudge and a dirty look from my wife.

  “Let them enjoy the magic, you meanie.”

  “You realize now the next party we throw her is going to be a massive disappointment, right?” I point out.

  Smiling faintly as she surveys the massive back yard that Mia has transformed into a child’s wonderland, Colette tells me, “Maybe we should ask Mia to plan it.”

  “Maybe I should stab myself in the eye with a hot poker.”

  Colette shrugs. “You could pull off an eye patch. Like a hot pirate. Mmmm.”

  Despite myself, I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I stifle it and wrap an arm around my wife’s waist, absently leaning over and kissing her temple.

  Apparently furious that Colette and I are enjoying ourselves for a moment, our grumpy, teething son smacks me right in the head. I turn my head slowly and meet his gaze, a move that would make grown men shit themselves, but Marco just drools all over the offending fist. “Da da!”

  “Aw, he didn’t mean it,” Colette lies, affectionately kissing the side of his head.

  Marco grins at me victoriously, then bobs and turns his attention to his mom, starting to whine again.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” she asks, swaying and kissing his head again. “Do your gums hurt?”

  “Aunt Mia, come on,” my daughter prods. I look over to see her tugging on Mia’s free hand impatiently, eager to get her face painted.

  “Just one second, honey, I want to say hi to your brother.”

  Gia sighs and releases Mia’s hand, crossing her arms and scowling. Mia wanders over to Colette, who turns so Marco can see her.

  “Hello there, you handsome little man,” Mia says, offering her finger for him to grab. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Boy, you got big!”

  “He’s a little grump today,” Colette says apologetically.

  “He must take after his daddy,” Mia jokes.

  “He likes you; he certainly doesn’t get that from me,” I offer, dryly.

  “Daddy, that’s not nice at all,” Gia informs me, arching her dark eyebrows in disapproval.