other like this in front of other people. I kind of loved it.
“Sorry about this,” he said quietly as the others were distracted with setting up dinner. “You sure it’s okay if they crash? I can make them leave, they won’t be offended. Well, at least not by you.”
I bit back a smile. The care he took to check in with me warmed me—like he wanted to make sure I wasn’t just trying to be accommodating. He really wanted me to feel comfortable. And that made me even more sure, and a little giddy.
“Yeah,” I said. “I want to get to know them better, too.”
Dinner was a chaotic, ridiculous affair, loud with laughter. Even though they all knew each other so well, I never felt left out or awkward. There was a lot of reminiscing, mostly for my benefit.
“Hah!” Mal cackled over an after-dinner finger of scotch. His big hand slapped the table. “I’d forgotten about that!”
“How could you forget?” Nix asked incredulously. “First of all, they were way too old for this to happen—like, why would Dante agree to it at all?”
“He can’t resist a dare,” Mal said. “Hence the tag.”
Under the table, Dante’s hand wrapped around my knee and squeezed affectionately. He shot me a little half-smile, and then his hand crept up my thigh, his fingers tracing the inseam of my jeans.
I swallowed and shifted a little in my seat. “And he really got stuck on the roof?” I asked.
“No,” Dante said pointedly, all casual like his hand wasn’t nearly in my crotch. “A certain somebody stranded me on the roof.”
Tru grinned. “You’re the one who fell for it.”
“He pulled the ladder down after Dante climbed up there to get the volleyball,” Nix said to me.
Tru cackled. “I couldn’t believe it. It was so easy.”
“I’d had like four beers! I can be convinced to do anything at that point,” Dante groused.
“You remember what he did to pass the time until someone came and got him down?” Tru asked Nix.
“He fucking took a nap!” Nix shouted in laughter, leaning back in his chair.
“Oh my god. The sunburn,” Eli said, eyes widening in horror as he remembered. “It was so bad. The peeling… He was like a lizard…”
“Oh, gross,” I said, laughing at the image.
Dante laughed, too, rolling his eyes warmly at the memory, and he squeezed my leg just a little. I liked seeing him like this—open and relaxed, visibly enjoying the good-natured teasing from his brothers-in-arms.
As dinner wound down, Dante and I both tried to start helping with the dishes, but Mal just shooed us away with a shake of his head. Eli and Nix tried to sneak away, but Tru caught them and pointed them to the sink.
“We’ve got plenty of hands to clean up,” Mal said. “Show Heath around, he’s never seen the clubhouse.”
Dante poured himself another finger of whiskey, and topped off my glass of red wine. “If you insist,” he said.
He caught my eye, handed me the wine glass, and then guided me toward the stairs with his hand at my lower back.
I bit my lower lip. His touch was a little possessive and a lot promising. I wasn’t sure where this was going to go—but with Dante’s hand at my back, I didn’t feel any fear. Just hunger. Anticipation. Wherever he wanted to lead, I was more than ready to follow.
21
Dante
“This is a cute picture,” Heath said as he leaned over my desk to get a closer look. The picture was on a high shelf above my dresser, which meant Heath had to raise up onto his tiptoes and lean forward to peer at it—which happened to make his ass look exceedingly grabbable.
For now, I resisted. I’d meant it when I said I wanted to take things slow—Heath deserved all the time and care and patience in the world. But having Heath in my bedroom was seriously affecting me. I hadn’t realized that seeing him poke curiously around my things would reawaken that roaring protective, possessive part of me.
But it was like seeing a recently adopted kitten get used to its new home. I liked watching him explore my space: running his small hands over my white bedspread, examining my narrow bookshelf stacked with John Le Carre and bread-baking tomes, and now leaning over my dresser to see an ancient photo of me, Dad, and Tru.
The room was more like a big studio apartment: we’d knocked down the wall between two motel rooms years ago, so I had a living room area