“Good evening, Olivia.” Dante said, cutting through my humming and whisking.“Welcome home,” I dropped the bowl of a mixture of honey, vinegar, soy sauce, garlic, and other ingredients on the kitchen, and I spun around to see him standing at the entrance of the kitchen.“You’re back earlier than I expected. Dinner will be ready soon.” I smiled, and a flash of surprise crossed his face.“You’re not mad at me?” He asked, etching towards me like I was a some kind of ticking time bomb, and my eyebrows squished together.“Um, no. Why would I be?” I frowned.“I thought you were given the way you stormed away from me this afternoon.” He stood by my side and leaned against the island. “I thought I had done something wrong.”“Oh no, you didn’t. I was just having a little internal crisis.” I picked up my oiled skillet and walked to the stove with Dante trailing behind me. “I’m sorry I made you think that way.”“I’m glad we are still on good terms.” He said, donning a small, soft smile. The tens
‘They are mine! They are fricken mine! Yes! Yes! Yes!’ I squealed, bursting with pure, undiluted joy. It was a dream come true. A beautiful, wonderful dream come true. After so many years of longing, forgetting, and not having money, I had finally gotten the books I had always wanted.I wanted to squeal again, but I choked it back into my throat.‘Calm down, Olly. No need to go all banshee mode.’ I told myself as I tried to even out my breath, rugged and heavy with excitement. ‘And you’ve not checked the others, yet, so just chill.’I dropped the books I was clutching to my chest on the other box, as quick as the wind but also with gentility so I wouldn’t wrinkle any of them, and I examined the other contents of the opened one before me. As I hoped, they were all books written by April Dove.“Why did you buy these? I didn’t tell you about them.” I gasped, taking out the books one at a time at a snail’s pace, enjoying the wonderful euphoria feeling that was so wonderful. I had only tol
People usually said I was an open book and easy to read. They took a glance at the emotions I was physically expressing and saw nothing more to them. Ever since I got pregnant, I had learned that this method was the best, and I loved it. I preferred throwing people off what I really felt with the emotions and expressions I showed. It was a safe and secure way to hide and process what I really felt without people’s nosy interference. I was able to manage the volcano of emotions that came with having triplet boys that way. But with Dante, it was different. He always just knew. He saw past what I wanted people to see and found what I was hiding from everyone— what I refused to say and show out loud. It was like he looked into my soul and dug out what I was truly feeling. It was kind of sweet. I swooned at the thought of having a man who could see through me, no matter how hard I tried to hide my emotions. I was wondered if I could have someone who just heard me even when I didn’t spea
“Doesn’t it feel better to let out what you feel than to bottle it in you?” Dante asked as we took our seats on the couch. “Yes, it does.” I nodded and smiled. Talking to him really did make me feel a whole lot better. It was like I was no longer being crushed like a grape under an invincible weight of worry. “Thank you for being someone I can talk to, Dante. It’s really relieving.” “I’m glad you trust me enough to confide in me.” He smiled back at me. “And I hope you would tell me anything that’s bothering you instead of shutting yourself up. I’ll always be here to listen to you.” “Anything bothering me…” I mumbled under my breath. ‘It seems like a good moment to tell him about Laura and the messages she sent to me, but is it really necessary? I don’t think so. I think my threat is more than enough to scare her off. I don’t think she would try anything stupid now that she knows, I know, that she’s behind those messages. And she was most likely bluffing when she said she would get
“Dante!” My whole face, from the tip of my ears to my neck, turned the reddest, brightest shade of red known to the entire human race, and my head jerked towards him. “Don’t say that! No flirty-flirty, remember.” “Can it be qualified as flirting if I’m saying the truth?” Dante grinned, and I wasn’t surprised by the amusement shining on his face. “And it’s not my fault you look like a cute little newlywed wife, shy and flustered because she’s giving her husband lunch to work for the first time. And I don’t mind being the lucky man.” “Dante! Enough!” I squeaked, praying to disappear from his presence before I died from embarrassment or insufficient blood flow to other parts of my body because of the excessive amount on my face. ‘How the heck can he say all that without being flustered?’ “I-I only did this because your eating schedule is not nice. Not because I’m trying to act like a newlywed wife or whatever your weird fantasy is coming up with.” I puffed my cheeks and drew the lunc
“Really? You want to learn how to bake?” I blink and cock my head to the side. I didn’t know whether I was supposed to be surprised, but I was. I was surprised that he wanted to learn how to bake. He had never hinted his interest in it before, so his just suddenly wanting to learn by eleven p.m. was very shocking. “Yes.” Dante nodded. “Why?” I squinted my eyes at him. “Because I want to. Why are you suddenly suspicious?” He frowned, mimicking my facial expression, and the corner of my lips tipped to a small smile. “Nothing. I’m just surprised, but sure, I’ll teach you.” I stood up from the couch and stretched my body. “Thank you.” His frown turned to a small smile, and I didn’t miss the happiness in his face. ‘Wow, he must really be excited about learning how to bake, which seems so strange.’ “But I’m curious; I never thought you were interested in cooking stuff. So why the sudden want to learn?” I asked him as we walked out of the library. “I have always had an interest, but
‘Oh my…’ My breath stuck in my throat as I took in Dante’s gloriously tanned body, which looked like it glowed in the kitchen light.My leery gaze travelled from his broad shoulders, which I wanted to throw my arms on, pass his firm chest covered with light chest hair, which I so wanted to snuggle into. To his abs and packs that seemed to beg me to run my hands over them.Everything about him called out to me, and a wild heat prickled every sensitive part of my body. My legs pressed together, trying to quench the desire pooling in them.I knew I was supposed to look away. I wasn’t supposed to be drinking in his figure like a tall glass of the finest wine. He was my baby papa and friend. And friends don’t ogle at and get all hot and bothered by their friends bodies, no matter how drop dead gorgeous they looked. But sheep! He was too irresistible to stop looking at.My attention went a little bit lower to the large tent on his shorts, and a small, quiet gasp escaped my lips.‘Oh! Sheep!
“I said I find you attractive, ok!” I blurted out, tired of our little games. “I find you really, really attractive. Heck, attractive can’t even cut it. You’re fricken gorgeous. A fine piece of male specimen So yes, I was staring at you because you were magnetising my attention no matter how hard I tried because you’re too good-looking for your own darn good, so please put on your shirt so I can get rid of all these dirty pictures in my mind.” ‘Geez Olly. You were just supposed to tell him he was attractive, not blurt out a whole epistle about him.’ I scolded myself, not knowing if I wanted to face palm myself for saying too much or hide my face in chronic embarrassment. ‘I can’t believe I said all that. A piece of male specimen, really Olly?’ And the look on his face didn’t make me feel better. I wasn’t surprised to see satisfaction and pride radiating from him. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dante winked, giving me a cheeky grin, and I want to claw at his eyes. “Have I told