Page 57 of Mourner for Hire

FORTY-SIX

VADA

We wound up back at the cottage, twisted in quilts and unspoken promises while the ocean roared outside the window.

Dominic whispers kisses along my bare spine as the morning ocean breeze skirts past the curtains. Goosebumps rise on my flesh, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold of this early October morning or the physical reaction I have to his touch.

I curl into him regardless, letting the warmth of his skin melt into me and making me hum.

“I need to tell you something,” he says.

The idea of a confession rips my mind wide open. I panic with the possibilities.

Illegitimate child.

Broken engagement.

Dead wife.

Will he confess how he wants to kill me? Or worse, his undying love?

I turn over so we’re chest to bare chest. “What is it?”

He stares down at me, his amber eyes swirling with a million different things. He curls his hands around my waist, pulling me tighter, and I shift closer in response .

“The bar is closing, and I’m going back to school.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not. Everyone goes there. They love it. It’s a landmark. It’s?—”

“It was a Hail Mary, Vada. Leonard really hoped I could get it above water. I tried to make it cool—trendy, even?—”

“It is! And I know trendy hipster. I’m from Portland,” I interject, but he continues.

“It barely breaks even, and I can’t keep it afloat and go back to school.”

I swallow.

The money.

The animosity.

The hatred for me and the inheritance I’m stealing from him.

“I’m giving the money back once it all goes through, Dominic. I’m not just saying that to make you not want to kill me.”

The smug smile on my face cuts the impact of my words and he laughs. It starts genuinely—a ripple of relief in the form of humor then drifts to this ache, this force of emotion. “I never wanted to kill you, Vada.”

I pause, holding onto his gaze. “I know.”

He swipes his thumb over my chin and lets it run over my lips. I kiss the pad, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin on my tongue.

“But it’d help. We could pay off the debts—give the bar a foothold on this town and then?—”

“Vada, it’s okay. The bar isn’t my dream.”

“Then what is?”

He pauses, searching my face. The only way to describe the expression in his eyes is that it absolutely cracks my heart in half. I see a lost boy in the body of a thirty-year-old man. I see a broken dream and a plan that went up in flames. I see a man who loves fiercely and breaks unintentionally.

“I’m starting my residency in the new year.”

My eyebrows shoot to the sky, unable to hide my surprise.

“I got my MD after my dad died,” he tells me .

I nod in response; I gathered this much.

“And I was entering my residency when my mom was diagnosed. I decided to come home.”

I wait for him to continue, and the tender grip of my hand on his forearm is his only encouragement.

“Mom told me not to. She wanted me to stay on the East Coast. Finish my residency. Become a doctor. She even said she might need me one day.” He chuckles humorlessly. “But I knew I would regret it if I didn’t run back to this town to be here for her the best way I knew how.”

Tears fill my eyes.

“My dad died when I was so young and so na?ve. I thought he’d leave the hospital and my mom would just be yelling at him about eating too much salt and egg yolks.

” He huffs. An almost laugh, but it’s really a breath of irony and regret in one exhale.

“It taught me that life is rarely the best-case scenario. So when Mom got sick, I didn’t want to waste another breath on something if it meant I couldn’t be here for her. ”

I hold him closer and kiss his shoulder. I have words I could say. So many words. But sometimes, in moments like these, words need to stay quiet. They can be felt in touches and understood in breaths. But the silence speaks… Always.

“I quit—both the attending and the program director were pissed. And then I bought the bar from Leonard in hopes to bring it back to life, but…”

“But what?” I ask, stupidly hopeful for a happy ending.

“But it’s a small town, Vada. Few things survive in a place like this. It’s not on the Beach Street strip. It’s on the way into town. Vacationers pass by it on the way in or the way out. We only get the occasional stranger who drank too much coffee and needs to pee.”

I laugh. “And thank God for that, right?” I tease, but there’s this lump of deflection clogging my throat.

He nods once and kisses the top of my head. I kiss his bicep in response, then his chest, his chin, his lips. “It ain’t over till it’s over, Dominic.”

His smile is sad in response. “Sometimes, it is, though.”

“Where is your residency?”

“Well, I still have applications out at UW Medical Center in Seattle and also Good Samaritan in Corvallis, but official Match Day isn’t until March.”

I nod, knowing one is five hours away and the other is only an hour. “You’re pretty incredible. Do you know that?”

He almost smiles. “I’m late to the game.”

“What game? It’s your life, Dominic. You get to make the rules and complete the timelines how you need to.”

He sighs and stares at the ceiling. I wish I could read him, but we haven’t reached that point in our relationship yet.

The wallowing makes me feel fiercely emotional and also extremely driven when he should be celebrating. I clear my throat and rise to my knees.

“Up,” I command.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“Seriously, get up.” I stand, grabbing his T-shirt off the floor and throwing it at him while I wrap myself in a robe.

“The eclipse is days away, and I still have a lot of work to do, and I need you to stop distracting me, so get out. Go back to the bar. Smile, flirt, schmooze, and sell those Vada cocktails like your inheritance depends on it.”

“How do you know about those?”

“People like me, Dominic. Unfortunately for you.” I smirk. “Now get out.”

“I want to help,” he says while obediently slipping his pants back on, but leaving them unbuttoned.

“I want to surprise you.” I step closer, resting my hand on his chest. “You may hate every circumstance that brought me to you, but you will love what I do with the life that’s left. I promise.”

Dominic freezes with a curious expression on his face. I can’t tell if he’s about to smile or roll his eyes. The planes of his face are equal parts stern and soft. He stalks toward me—two swift steps, and my heart rotates in my chest as he stares down at me, cupping a hand around my jaw.

“You’re going to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?”

As soon as the words leave his lips, a smile breaks out on my face. He doesn’t smile, though—not quite. The same curious contemplation is etching lines on his face.

He makes me giddy. Like kick my feet in the air, bite my lip, this-could-be-love crazy. I grip the waistband of his jeans, pulling his body flush against mine. I kiss his chin. “That or make you want to grab your pitchfork and drive me out of town,” I tease.

“I’m going to enjoy you until you lose your mind, Vada.”

I lean up and look at him.

“Yeah?” I question, temptation in my eyes. “Make me see stars.”

The rip of the fabric makes me jump while liquid heat pools inside me as he turns me around.

My oversized T-shirt falls over my shoulders and drops to the floor.

Dominic is quiet behind me, his breathing subdued.

He runs a languid finger down my spine and then, without warning, pushes me over so I’m bent over the bed.

His hand presses against the small of my back, and he groans as his hand curves over my ass until his fingers slip between my legs.

He moans, deep, throaty, magnificent. “So fucking wet.”

He rubs his fingers against my clit, and desire slides up my legs and settles in my core with the electric current of a thousand oceans.

I squirm and whimper, but he holds me in place, not changing his pressure or cadence.

“Do you want more?” he asks, his left hand gliding up my back and around to my chest to cup my breast in his hand.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Say it.”

“I want more.” I moan out the words as my toes tingle and my legs start to give out .

He removes his hand.

“Please. Dominic,” I whine.

A rough chuckle vibrates through the room as he rubs the tip against me. My head rolls back, and he digs his hand into my hair, pulling just enough that I know I’m at his mercy.

“Condom,” I say. “Now.”

He bends forward, his chest pressed against my back and one arm snaking around my waist. He bites my ear. “So bossy.”

A salacious laugh tumbles out of me, and he pulls me to standing.

“Nightstand,” I tell him, and he opens the drawer to find a condom.

I sit on the edge of the bed waiting, impatiently enough that while he tears open the condom wrapper, I take him in my hand, stroking him and rubbing my thumb over his leaking tip.

Desire winds tightly with him in my hand. He’s ready, weeping, and just so fucking delectable, I can’t help but put my mouth on him.

“Fuck, Vada,” he groans, hands in my hair as his hips thrust past my lips. “That mouth.”

I take him as far as I can, over and over until I need to catch my breath. I let him go with a pop, and I wipe my bottom lip with my thumb as I stare up at him through my lashes. “Where are those stars you promised?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. His gaze darkens as he rolls the condom on.

I crawl back on the bed, positioning myself for him. He eyes me incredulously.

“What are you doing?”

“You, hopefully, but?—”

“Get your ass back here.” He beckons me with one finger.

I do as I’m told, sliding back to the edge of the bed.

He grabs my waist and pulls me to standing, kissing me deeply with my hair in his hand.

Then, he turns me around and bends me back over, pressing into me.

Long, hard thrusts while his strong hand holds me in place until my legs give out, and I scream his name. He follows suit, trembling behind me.

Then he does it to me again. Making good on his promise twice over.