Page 57 of Laced With Secrets
Despite everything, Dominic’s mouth quirked slightly. “The baby wanted puttanesca from a mob boss’s restaurant?”
“The baby has expensive taste,” I said.
“The baby has dangerous taste,” Dominic corrected, but his death grip on the steering wheel gentled. “Was the puttanesca at least good?”
“It was perfect,” I admitted. “Exactly what I was craving.”
“Of course it was.” Dominic shook his head, some of the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Only you would bond with a mobster over Italian food and artisan footwear.”
“I do think really did care for Thomas,” I said softly. “He might’ve even beenin lovewith him.”
“And he gave you his personal number in case anyone threatens you,” Dominic said. “Which is simultaneously terrifying and… oddly touching.”
“Right?” Penny leaned forward. “That’s exactly what I said! Terrifying and nice at the same time!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The shop was dark when we arrived, only the streetlights outside casting long shadows through the windows. Dominic closed the door behind us, then flipped the lock. The sound echoed loudly in the silence—final, decisive.
He moved to the workshop lamps, flicking them on one by one. Warm light flooded the space, chasing away the shadows but doing nothing to ease the tension crackling between us.
“I know you’re angry,” I said finally, my voice smaller than I intended.
“Angry doesn’t begin to cover it.” Dominic’s hands flexed at his sides, fighting for control. “Christ, Leo. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Through our bond, I felt it then—not just anger, but genuine terror. The kind of bone-deep fear that had consumed him when he couldn’t reach me at the Fairfax estate, magnified a hundredfold.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and meant it. The guilt hit me fully now, seeing what my recklessness had done to him. “I didn’t think?—”
“No, you didn’t think.” But his voice had lost some of its edge. “You saw an opportunity and took it without considering the danger.”
His hand came up to settle on my stomach, and the protective gesture made my throat tight.
“I won’t do it again,” I said quietly. “I promise. If I want to follow a lead, I’ll tell you first. We’ll do it together.”
Something in Dominic’s expression shifted—the fury easing, though the exasperation remained. “You’re a piece of work,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m holding you to that. No sticking that curious nose into places it doesn’t belong. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
We stood like that for a long moment. The shop was quiet around us—my workspace, the smell of leather and polish, safe and familiar.
But the air between us was still charged, heavy with unresolved tension. Dominic’s anger had eased but not disappeared, and my omega instincts were screaming at me to fix this, to bridge the gap, to soothe my alpha’s distress.
I stepped closer, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. My fingers found the buttons of his shirt, toying with the top one absently. Through the fabric, I could feel the rapid beat of his heart.
“Leo,” Dominic warned, but his voice had roughened.
“I need to,” I whispered, slipping the first button free. Then the second. “Let me.”
“You already apologized—” But his breath caught as my hands slid inside his open shirt, palms flat against his heated skin.
“That’s not enough.” I worked another button free, then another, my fingers trembling slightly. “I need to show you. Need you to feel how sorry I am, how much I—” I stopped myself before the words could escape.
Dominic’s hands came up to cover mine, stilling my movements. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, tilting my head to expose my throat—the ultimate omega gesture of trust and submission. “Please, alpha.”
His control shattered. I felt it through our bond—the moment the fear and fury transformed into something else entirely, something more primal and desperate.