Chapter 89: Chapter 89
Music Recommendation: If You Love Her by Forest Blakk.
......
Dominic’s fingers traced a slow path up her spine, stopping just below her shoulder blades. He pulled her fractionally closer. "Next time," he murmured, "I want you to tell me before I have to find out in a parking lot."
Her lips curved. "And if I don’t?"
His smile deepened, dark and knowing. "Then I’ll make sure you learn it’s easier to just obey."
Her breath caught, but before she could retort, he opened the passenger door of his car. "Get in."
It wasn’t a request.
Celeste slid inside, her skin humming, and as Dominic closed the door after her, and rounded the car, she caught the faint reflection of her own smile in the glass.
Larry was already a distant shadow in the background, but she had no doubt he’d remember this scene every time he thought about speaking out of turn again.
When Dominic got in, he didn’t start the engine right away. He just looked at her. "You handled him well."
"I thought I didn’t tell you enough."
"You told me enough to know he won’t make the same mistake twice," Dominic said, "Now let’s get you out of here before I change my mind and go find him."
Dominic’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer after he said those words. He reached back into the rear seat.
She heard the rustle before she saw it, and then he set it in her lap.
Celeste blinked. It was a bouquet, but not of roses or lilies. The stems were rolled pages, bound with silk ribbon, their curled edges blooming into petals made of words. The scent was faintly of ink and something faintly sweet, as if the paper itself had been kissed by vanilla.
Her fingers hesitated above it, tracing the ribbon before lifting it into her hands. "You...?" The question trailed off.
"For the headache," he said simply, one hand still on the wheel, but his eyes watched her reaction because it mattered more than the traffic outside. "Flowers wilt. This doesn’t."
She turned the bouquet slowly, catching snippets of sentences printed across the petals. The fragments from stories she half-recognized, words she’d once underlined in the margins of her own books. "You... folded these?"
A faint curve touched his mouth. "I had someone bind them. I chose the pages."
Her throat tightened in a way that had nothing to do with headaches. "These..." She paused, reading one line, one she’d once quoted without thinking. "You remembered this." She smiled speechlessly.
"I remember everything you like," he said, his voice low, as though it were not a boast but a fact. His hand slid over the console to rest briefly on her thigh. "And I remember what to do when someone tries to ruin your day."
She laughed softly, but the sound trembled, as her fingers tightening around the bouquet. "Dominic..."
He tilted his head, studying her. "Do you like it?"
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she set the book bouquet carefully against her lap and leaned slightly toward him. "It might be my favorite thing anyone’s ever given me."
For a moment, neither moved. Then his hand slipped back to the gearshift, and without another word, he started the car but his other hand never left her thigh until they were halfway down the street.
When the traffic light flashed red, Dominic eased the car to a stop, his hand was still curved over her thigh. They belonged exactly there.
He turned to her without warning, his eyes catching hers with that kind of focus that always stole the air from her lungs.
Before she could ask what he was thinking, his mouth was on hers.
It wasn’t a deep kiss. This kiss was quick and deliberate. The press of his lips on hers was teasing. His lips caught her mid-thought, and for a split second, her mind blanked entirely.
By the time she reacted, he’d already pulled back, one corner of his mouth lifting as if he knew exactly what he’d just done to her.
"Didn’t see that coming, did you?" His voice was low, and threaded with amusement.
Her laugh burst out loud, and unguarded. The bouquet shifted in her lap as she tilted her head back. "You...." she shook her head, grinning at him. "That was so unfair."
"Life’s unfair," he countered, the corners of his lips curving into a satisfied smile.
She laughed again, and Dominic joined her. It wasn’t the quiet huff she sometimes got from him, nor the soft chuckle he’d let slip in rare moments. This was different.
This was a full, unrestrained laugh, deep and rich, spilling into the space between them.
It caught her off guard.
She’d heard his laughter before, but not like this. This was so pure, uncalculated, and almost boyish in its warmth. It wrapped around her, as tangible as his hand on her leg, and for a moment, the inside of the car felt like its own small world.
She watched the lines at the corners of his eyes deepen, and the way his head tilted just slightly when something truly amused him. It was so... real. So unarmored.
And she realized she wanted to hear it again, and forever. Even on the days when it’s hard. As long as her heart beats.
"You’re enjoying yourself," she accused lightly, even as her own smile wouldn’t leave her face.
"Of course I am." He glanced back at the light, still red, then at her. "You make it impossible not to."
Her chest felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the heater humming quietly in the car.
The light turned green, but he didn’t rush to move. He let the car roll forward only after the driver behind them gave the briefest honk.
His hand slid higher on her thigh, not enough to be scandalous, just enough to remind her who he was, and he murmured, "You should laugh more, Celeste."
She raised a brow. "Oh? Why’s that?"
"Because," he said, eyes forward now, but his smile still lingering, "it makes you look like you belong somewhere better than the places that try to make you small."
"You’re beautiful, Celeste. Inside out," Dominic breathed. "You’re the best thing I’ve ever had,"
He turned to her, when he felt her eyes on him. He met her eyes, smiled, and focused on the road again.