Chapter 11 - THE WOMAN HE COULDN'T LET GO
The first time Dominic asked me to dinner, I laughed.
Not politely.
Not nervously.
I actually laughed in his face.
He stood in the kitchen holding a folded restaurant menu.
I had just finished cleaning mashed sweet potato off Oliver's chin.
"Bernie," he said, "would you like to have dinner with me?"
I stared.
"We're in a kitchen."
"I noticed."
"There's food."
"I noticed that too."
"Then why are you holding a menu?"
He looked down.
For a moment, the city's most feared mafia boss seemed genuinely confused.
"I thought you might prefer a restaurant."
I smiled despite myself.
"Are you asking me on a date?"
Dominic went still.
Then he said, "Yes."
My heart began pounding.
I hadn't been on a date in almost a year.
Before Oliver, I'd been seeing a paramedic named Ryan.
He was kind.
Funny.
And completely uninterested in commitment.
We parted amicably.
Then my life became a series of motel rooms and late-night diaper changes.
Romance was the last thing on my mind.
Now Dominic Farrow was standing in front of me asking for dinner.
The same man whose guards had dragged me into a storage room.
The same man whose name made strangers lower their voices.
The same man who'd spent weeks learning how to prepare baby food and had somehow become Oliver's favorite person to throw toys at.
I looked at him.
"Dominic, this is complicated."
"I know."
"You're still involved in a criminal investigation."
"I know."
"Oliver's custody situation isn't resolved."
"I know."
"And I don't want you confusing gratitude with love."
His expression changed.
"I don't."
I swallowed.
"How can you be sure?"
Dominic considered the question.
Then said quietly, "Because I care about you when there's nothing you can do for me."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
He continued.
"When Oliver is asleep and the house is quiet, I still find myself wanting to talk to you."
My heart tightened.
"About what?"
"Anything."
He smiled faintly.
"Your childhood. Your nursing work. Why you hate expensive coffee. Why you think every decorative pillow in this house is unnecessary."
I laughed.
"They are unnecessary."
"I know. You've made that clear."
I looked down at Oliver.
He was attempting to put a wooden block inside his sock.
I smiled.
Then turned back to Dominic.
"One dinner."
His eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Somewhere public."
"Of course."
"No bodyguards sitting at the table."
"Agreed."
"And no buying the restaurant because the service is slow."
He laughed.
"I'll try to control myself."
We went to a small Italian restaurant near the river.
Dominic arrived early.
He wore a navy sweater and dark trousers.
No expensive watch.
No visible security.
When I entered, he stood.
For a moment, I almost didn't recognize him.
He looked nervous.
The realization made me smile.
"Are you afraid of me, Mr. Farrow?"
He laughed softly.
"Terrified."
I sat.
"Good. That gives us something in common."
Dinner was surprisingly ordinary.
We talked about nursing.
About Dominic's childhood.
About Samuel.
About the first time Oliver rolled over in a motel room outside Joliet.
Dominic listened as I described the little boy's laugh.
How he loved being carried toward windows.
How he always fell asleep when I hummed a lullaby my mother used to sing.
Then Dominic grew quiet.
"Bernie."
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for loving him."
My throat tightened.
I looked away.
"I didn't plan to."
"I know."
"I kept telling myself I'd find someone who could help us, then I'd go back to my life."
My eyes filled.
"But every time he reached for me, I couldn't imagine leaving him with strangers."
Dominic took a breath.
"He isn't a stranger to you anymore."
I looked at him.
"No."
For a moment, the room seemed to disappear.
Then Dominic reached toward my hand.
He stopped halfway.
"May I?"
I nodded.
His fingers closed gently around mine.
No pressure.
No ownership.
Just warmth.
Outside the restaurant, snow began falling.
Dominic walked beside me toward the car.
At the curb, he stopped.
"Bernie."
I turned.
"Yes?"
"I'd like to kiss you."
My heart stopped.
For a moment, I remembered everything.
The storage room.
The bruises.
The fear.
The dangerous world that had swallowed my ordinary life.
Then I looked at the man standing in front of me.
Not demanding.
Not reaching.
Waiting.
I smiled faintly.
"I'd like that too."
He touched my cheek.
Then kissed me.
Softly.
Carefully.
As though he was afraid of breaking something precious.
When we separated, Dominic rested his forehead against mine.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, "I've wanted to do that for weeks."
I laughed softly.
"Your patience deserves recognition."
He smiled.
Then his phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
He looked at the screen.
Answered.
His expression changed.
"Samuel?"
I stopped breathing.
Dominic closed his eyes.
May you like
On the other end of the line, a man's voice whispered:
"Don't bring the baby. Kessler is holding Elena."
