Again | Mary Calmes

Chapter One

WAS

lying on the floor in my living room when the door

opened and Pete walked in. I knew it was him because I
recognized the hiking boots next to my face.

“You made no sense on the phone.”
This news did not surprise me. I was more than a little

distraught.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he ordered.
I didn‟t lift my head off the hardwood floor. “I went to

meet Dante at the baggage claim at LAX, and he was kissing
her.”

“Who?”
“Cassandra.”
“His partner.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Does it look like I‟m kidding?” I asked him. As I was

lying on the floor in the middle of my apartment, I was
hoping he‟d get it.

“Shit.”
I let out a long sigh. I was a mess.
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what did he say when you confronted him?”

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I snorted. “He said they‟d been in love for a while; he

just could never figure out the best time to tell me.”

He sounded like he was going to hyperventilate.
I tilted my head back so I could see him. “Pete?”
“Jesus, Noah.”
He was taking the betrayal almost worse than I was.
“Sit down,” I told him because he was making me

nervous, “and put your head between your legs before you
pass out. Take shallow breaths.”

“Oh God,” he gagged.
As I watched him flop down on my green burlap couch

and put his head between his legs, I smiled for the first time
in three days. Leave it to my friend to out-diva me. He was
much more dramatic than I would ever be.

“You alright?” I asked him after a few minutes of

listening to him breathe.

“When should he have told you? When should he…. I‟ll

tell you when fuckin‟ Dante Cerreto should have told you—
maybe right before you drained your life savings to have his
sperm put inside your sister so you two could have a baby
together!” he roared angrily, the bitterness there in his voice.

“I didn‟t tell him.”
“What?” he shouted at me after a minute or so delay.

“Sit up and look at me. Goddamnit!”

I moved just enough for what I was doing to be called

sitting. It was more of a slouch.

“What part didn‟t you tell him?”
“Any of it.”

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“You didn‟t tell Dante that your sister agreed to carry

his child so the two of you could have a baby? That‟s the
part you didn‟t tell him?”

“That would be it.”
“Oh my God, Noah!”
“I didn‟t have time,” I defended myself. “Did I mention

the kissing?”

“But it‟s done,” he gasped. “Sarah‟s pregnant and now…

Did you show him the sonogram pictures? Did he see his
daughter?”

“No.”
“No?” he yelled at me.
“No.”
He just stared at me.
“What?”
“Noah.” He sounded pained and exasperated all that the

same time. “Holy shit! Do you know what you‟ve just done? I
mean, right now I hate the man, but I can‟t hate him
completely because he doesn‟t even know what he really
lost!”

“Pete—”
“He‟s out you and your kid and—”
“Take a deep—”
“Noah, it‟s not fair! You haven‟t given the man all the

facts!”

“Why are you defending him?”
“I‟m not defending him but he needs to know!”
“Stop yelling.”

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“Noah!” he yelled again.
“Did I mention the kissing?”
There was a long moment of silence where he took a

deep breath and basically tried to calm down enough to
carry on a conversation.

“Okay, so lemme get this straight—you haven‟t seen the

son of a bitch in six months while he‟s been undercover
doing God knows what with God knows who, and today, the
day he‟s supposed to come home… today he tells you that
he‟s in love with someone else?”

“Well, technically showed me first then told me, but

yeah.”

“Noah!” he barked. “You couldn‟t say anything to him?”
“No.”
“So what, he loves someone else?”
“Right.”
“And that someone is who again? Cassandra?”
“Yep.”
“That is his partner, right? She‟s a CIA agent too?”
I grunted.
He made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded

phlegmy.

“Don‟t sound so disgusted.”
“Why the hell not?”
I had no idea what I was even saying; my whole world

had just turned upside down.

“This is such bullshit,” he groaned.

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“It makes sense, I guess. I mean, he spends more time

with her than anyone else. I‟m sure it‟s the natural
progression of things.”

“Noah!”
I groaned loudly.
“He‟s gay!”
“Apparently, he‟s bi.”
“Since when?”
“Since Cassandra.”
“Oh God.” He sounded like he was going to throw up.
“Take shallow breaths,” I suggested for what felt like

the tenth time.

“It‟s nice to see you‟re fine with all of this.”
“Yep,” I muttered, slumping to the floor in a puddle.
“So this is your plan, then? Curl up and die?”
“Yep.”
“Okay,” he muttered, and I heard the couch creak with

his weight being lifted up off of it. “So he has no idea that
Sarah agreed and you‟re both gonna be fathers?”

We had gone together to see our doctor a year ago when

the idea of a surrogate had first occurred to me. I told Dante
that if my sister Sarah agreed that it would be her egg,
standing in for me, and his sperm, and together we would
have a child. “He knew I was talking to Sarah, but he doesn‟t
know she said yes. The only reason I told you was because if
I didn‟t tell someone I was gonna go—”

“Sure.” He looked hurt.
“Aww, for crissakes, Pete, I can‟t deal with you falling

apart too. I told you because I love you and because you‟re

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my best friend and not because you‟re just anybody so
don‟t—”

“I know—I know,” he cut me off, hands up, silencing me

with the quiet he had called for. “I‟m sorry.”

I took a breath. “Okay.”
“So what, he really has no idea?”
“Nope.”
“You‟re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Why didn‟t you get word to him?”
“How?” I asked pointedly.
“Oh, that‟s right.”
“When he‟s working, you know I can‟t just pick up the

phone and call him.”

“It‟s all that CIA bullshit.”
“Yeah.”
“God, Noah, I‟m… I don‟t know what to say.”
“Me neither.” I laughed, sounding a little unhinged.
“You should have told him when you saw him.”
“Why?”
“Because it‟s the right thing to do and because he

deserves to know and because he might stay if you told him.”

“You‟re rambling.” I grinned. “How many times did you

just say because?”

“Don‟t count my words, listen to them.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Noah, go find him and tell him and get him back.”
“He loves her; I don‟t want him.”

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“You want him. You‟ve always wanted him.”
I knew that. I was lying to myself to think anything

different.

“You glow when he‟s around. Even after four years, you

still glow.”

“And now I won‟t.”
“The holidays are coming.”
I lifted my head up to see his face. “What does that have

to do with anything?”

His eyebrows rose, and just for a moment I smiled. “I

just don‟t want you to commit suicide or something.” His
voice was both gentle and caressing.

“Can‟t,” I moaned. “I‟m gonna be a father. I can‟t

actually even follow through on my plan to lie here until I
die. I will eventually have to get up.”

“When?”
“Who knows?”
He nodded. “Okay. You wanna move into the apartment

under me and Rick? I own it, as you know. I‟ll rent it to ya
dirt cheap until you get the money together to buy it,” he
promised me. “It‟s got two bedrooms and that‟s all ya need,
one for you and one for the baby.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I agreed, my cheek back

on the floor, pressed to the cold wood.

“And that way whenever you need help, we‟ll be there.”
I had such amazing friends; it was too bad I had terrible

taste in men. “I love you guys, you know?”

“Yes, I know, darling, and we love you back.”
I flipped him off for the darling.

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“Okay, I‟ll be back in an hour with Rick.”
“I‟ll be here.”

When he shut the door behind him, I closed my eyes

again.

Pete made me get up and eat something when he

returned with Rick Baylor, the love of his life, just as
promised, an hour later. As soon as they left, I went back to
the floor. My friend Moe, short for Maureen, came with her
husband Phillip the following day. They both sat on the floor
with me as I told them about the baby.

“If I see him on the street, he‟s a fuckin‟ dead man,”

Phillip swore. They were strong words from a CPA.

Maureen cried and held my hand, and after a while it

was hard to tell which of us got dumped. They ordered pizza
and we had shakes to wash it down.

My older brother Luke flew in from Denver just to check

on me, which was a complete surprise. He wasn‟t as
concerned about me being on the floor as everyone else was.
The man had grown up with me and knew I wasn‟t the
suicidal type. He told me he knew I had to work through
stuff and to call him when I wanted to visit. He promised to
send me a ticket. I told him I was dumped, not homeless and
penniless.

“Just lemme do something nice for you, asshole.”
I had rolled my eyes, but after he gave me the guy

clench, I agreed. Before he left he set up the TV on its side so
I could watch without moving. It was very considerate.

Finally, I decided I had to actually attempt to tell Dante

about the baby. It was, as Pete had said over and over, the
right thing to do.

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It turned out that his cell phone number was no longer

in service. Since our providers were not the same, I had no
way to check the status of his account. I went to the bank,
got into our safety deposit box, and called all the emergency
numbers in his address book. I reached only different voice
mails within the bureau. I drove to Dante‟s parents‟ home in
Sonoma, but found that it had been put up for sale. There
were no signs of life. I remembered them saying they were
thinking of moving—scary that everything in my life had
changed all at once. I was hurt that they had left without
even a goodbye to me, as I had always thought we were
close. Funny how nothing had been like I thought. When I
drove to the family winery, there was a new name out front
that I didn‟t recognize, that having been sold as well. No one
at the office had ever heard of the Cerretos beyond the fact
that that they were the previous owners. Pete was upset that
I had no closure, that I had no contact with anyone. Even my
letter to Dante‟s office in Virginia came back as non-
deliverable by FedEx. It was like he vanished.

I finally called his boss, Agent Mitchell Beck, which I

had been told never to do, and was told that Dante had been
transferred after his last assignment. Beck thought maybe
he was abroad working on a task force.

A month later I got a letter from Paris with dissolution

papers in it. He had signed everything over to me: the house,
the car, and all our assets. All he wanted was his freedom. I
returned everything in the enclosed envelope, including,
much to Pete‟s shock and outrage, my platinum wedding
ring. It had meant something when we exchanged vows in
Toronto; it didn‟t mean anything anymore. If Dante wanted
to wash his hands of me, I would do the same. By that time

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even Pete agreed that sharing my good news was futile. I
walked around in a daze for the following two weeks.

My boss, Vincent Carmichael, came and got me out of

bed and out of the house at the beginning of the third week.
It was enough already; I was going to be a father and mother
all rolled into one. I was about to be somebody else‟s whole
world. It was time to snap out of the funk. I was dressed and
at the office the following morning. I could not say no to the
man as he had actually made a trip to my house. I had never
worried that he would fire me—I had been the first person he
hired when he opened his business five years before—but I
felt bad that I was taking advantage of his good will.

“You never treat anyone bad, Noah,” he told me. “But I

need you back at work. No one gets me like you do. It‟s why
you‟re my right-hand man.”

And it turned out that working, being back outside,

doing the landscaping that I had done all my life, helped to
clear my head.

Over the weekend I signed a lease with Pete for the

apartment downstairs from him, and my friends moved me
out of my old life and into my new one. I got a good offer on
the house, and my pregnant sister Sarah moved in with me.
She and I together created a nursery that was baby enough
to be cute but didn‟t make me go into sugar shock every time
I walked into the room. When she caught me eyeballing the
clown that our Aunt Janice had sent for the baby shower
four months later, she burst into laughter.

“What?”
“God, Noah.” She exhaled deeply, caressing her swollen

abdomen. “I wish I was gonna be your kid.”

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The shower had been fun, a coed party instead of the

by-the-book type of all-girl get-together. Now, after gorging
on fried food, pink cupcakes and ice cream, playing dumb
games and opening gifts, my sister was exhausted, and so
was I. She was sprawled out on the couch, her feet propped
up as I finished cleaning and kept tabs on Pennywise.

“Woman, your hormones are whacked out,” I told her.
“No.” Her voice was soft. “You, Noah Wheeler, are a very

good man and your daughter is very lucky.”

I smiled at her. “Just because the clown freaks me out?”
“No, because you have always wanted kids, and even

though Dante walked away, you saw your chance and never
once had a doubt.”

“And what about you? When my angel is born, are you

sure that you‟re gonna be able to give her to me? She‟s half
yours, ya know?”

She shook her head. “I‟m just filling in for you, love. If I

were gay, I would expect you to do this same thing for me.”

“Carrying a baby for nine months and filling a cup is not

exactly the same thing, Sarah Belle.”

Her smile was wistful and rare. “It is to me.”
She was luminous at that moment, until her brows

furrowed and she made a face like she‟d taken a bite of a
lemon. “Okay, the clown has to go.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It‟ll kill us in our sleep.”
“Oh God.” She giggled. “Get it out of here!”
I kept looking over my shoulder at it in the back seat the

following morning as I drove it and some other things to
Goodwill. I was sure I saw it move.

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That night, as I had dinner with my sister, laughing,

talking about how we would both survive the impending visit
from our parents, I realized that nine months after Dante
Cerreto had walked out of my life, I was still alive. I never
would have thought it was possible, but the most important
person in my life had actually not even been born yet.

“You‟re gonna be okay,” Sarah told me.
And I was. Everything was finished and ready for the

baby. I had gotten on with living.

Sarah‟s water broke in the middle of the night, and

when she freaked out, I became her rock. I had no idea I
even had it in me. But I held her hand and talked her
through the C-section that came eight hours after the doctor
tried to turn my stubborn breech baby for the first three. My
dear sweet sister, who had wanted everything to be natural
during the awe-inspiring miracle that was childbirth, ended
up begging everyone in the room, including me, for lots and
lots of drugs. She wanted nothing to do with the mind-
numbing pain. I wanted them to give her some extra
something, but after the first dose, she was a happy bunny
again instead of a harpy from hell.

When my daughter finally made her appearance, she

was beautiful and perfect, and I named her Grace after my
grandmother, whom I missed so much. Having lost her to
breast cancer a decade ago, I prayed that night that I would
always be there for my own baby. I put Dante‟s name on her
birth certificate because it was the right thing to do, even
though I didn‟t give her his last name. Sarah signed over all
her parental rights to me, the adoption legal and binding,
and my little girl, Grace Anita Wheeler, was going home with
her Daddy. I loved her more than I thought it was possible to

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love another human being, and my pain over Dante finally
began to wane. Compared to her, no one even came close.

My parents, who had started out concerned over the

choices I was making, left two weeks later certain that I
actually knew what I had gotten myself into. Sarah left a
month after them, ready to begin her adventure in the Peace
Corps. She was excited to start her life, her dream. She was
happy for me, loved Gracie, but wanted nothing to do with
babies or parenting. Watching her walk away from me in the
airport terminal was bittersweet. I would miss her even as I
was looking forward to being alone with my baby.

“I will be the best father I can be, sweetheart,” I told the

love of my life.

I was certain she winked at me.

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Chapter Two

turned and looked up at me. “I don‟t get it.”

I looked down at my five-year-old daughter and smiled.

She was really trying to wrap her mind around it. “What
don‟t you get?”

“Why does Aunt Chelsea want to marry that old man?”
“He‟s not that old, love.”
She looked at me like I‟d lost my mind. “He has white

hair, Dad.”

“And so does your grandpa.”
“I know.” She smiled big. “So see, he‟s old.”
I chuckled and led her through the entryway of Caesar‟s

Palace. I had explained premature graying to her ten times
by then, and she just didn‟t understand. Old was old and
young was young, and if that didn‟t make sense then what
did? We were on our way to the fitting for her dress, which
my friend from college, Chelsea Dawson, soon to be Chelsea
Pruitt, had bought. I hoped to God it was tasteful. Chelsea,
who loved to be called Aunt Chelsea by my kid, could be
slightly eccentric. I looked down at Gracie, and when I
looked up, a man plowed right into me.

“Oh my God!” he almost shouted. “I‟m so—”
I looked up and found myself suddenly faced with

familiar cobalt blue eyes. They weren‟t the exact color that
would have given me heart palpitations, but they were close.

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“Noah?”
Claudio Cerreto, Dante‟s younger brother. Jesus.
“Hey,” I greeted him with forced cheerfulness.
“Noah,” he breathed out, his eyes looking me over as he

grabbed my arms. “Holy shit… Noah Wheeler?”

God. “I… oh, hey, Claud.” I gave him a faint smile, using

the shortened version of his name. “How are you?”

We both stood there staring for what seemed like forever

before I felt the tug on my arm. I tore my eyes from his and
looked down at my child.

“Daddy, who‟s that man?” She pointed, holding her

hand close to her body. It was funny, her finger going up and
down like he wouldn‟t be able to tell that she was pointing at
him. She had been taught that it was bad manners and so
was trying hard to observe my edict.

“Well.” I took a breath. “That‟s one of your old man‟s

friends,” I told her, kneeling down to her level. “And his
name is Claudio.”

“That‟s a weird name.”
“It‟s not weird; it‟s just not a name that you‟ve heard

before.”

“If you say so.”
He knelt down to look at her, and I saw first the

recognition and then the awe wash across his features. He
panned slowly to me. “She has his eyes.”

I nodded. “She does, you‟re right.”
“My God, she‟s so beautiful,” he gushed, reaching for

Grace.

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I put up my hand to stop him as I stood back up.

“Don‟t. She doesn‟t like to hug people unless she knows
them,” I told him, looking at my daughter, seeing her
discomfort.

“Oh, okay, I‟m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized.
She smiled timidly and I squeezed her hand. “It‟s okay,

monkey.”

“So you live here now?” he asked as he stood up, not

taking his eyes off Grace.

“No, we‟re just here for a wedding. I still live in Santa

Monica. You?”

“In Vegas? In the heat?” he asked like I was crazy. “No,

I‟m here with the family. I‟m buying some real estate out by
the lake, and everyone decided that it was time we took a
vacation and saw each other.”

I chuckled. “There‟s a lake in Vegas?”
“Well, sure, about twenty miles out.”
“Huh, who knew?”
“So, how long‟s it been?”
“God, I dunno, let‟s think; Gracie‟s five so, what, almost

six years?” I grinned at him.

“Yeah.”
“Yes,” Gracie corrected him automatically.
“Oh.” He smiled big at her. “I meant to say yes. I‟m

sorry.”

“It‟s okay.” She nodded, smiling at him. “But Nana says

that you should always say yes, never yeah.”

He looked at me, and I saw how utterly charmed he was

by my cute kid.

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“Dad.” She whined my name, wrinkling up her nose

before she scratched it. “We gotta go. Auntie Chelsea said I
could ride in the boat at the hotel after we try on the dumb
dress. Hurry up and end.”

I chuckled and Claudio looked, again, enchanted. “I

never knew. Does he know?”

“Who?”
“Dante.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“How did—”
“My sister.”
He nodded. “She‟s gorgeous; I see both of you in her.”
“Thank you. Those eyes of hers, though… that‟s all

Cerreto,” I teased him.

“Yes,” he grunted, so obviously charmed, before he

locked his eyes with mine. “Why didn‟t you let him know?”

“I tried,” I assured him. “But it was like you all

disappeared.”

“We did for a while.”
“Well, there ya go.”
He let out a quick breath. “But that makes no sense. He

would have—”

“It makes perfect sense, Claud. I‟m sure he and

Cassandra have a lot of kids.”

“What?” He looked so confused. “What‟re you talk—”
“Not that it‟s my business,” I cut him off, smiling

brightly.

“Noah—”

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“Let‟s not do this.” I nodded and then leaned in quickly

and kissed his cheek. His was a warm family that expected
affection between men. His extended family, which I had
loved, too, the Cerreto and Eramo clans, hugged and kissed
each other like crazy. I had missed that for Grace as she was
growing up, but there had been nothing to be done. “It was
great to see you; give my best to your folks.”

“Noah—”
I smiled at him. “See ya.” I turned and led my girl

toward the shops.

The dress wasn‟t horrible, even though Grace stood

there in it like she was being sentenced to death. Even the
seamstress, who was performing last-minute alterations, lost
it and started laughing when she started to gag.

“You look like a cute little button-nosed lemon meringue

pie,” I teased her.

“Dad!” she cried, and I couldn‟t help but laugh too. I

was feeling so good, exhilarated from my encounter with
Claudio. I had dreaded the day that I would run into one of
the Cerreto clan, and I had handled it with poise and class
and breezed through it without a ripple of pain. I was just
bursting with power. I told Grace that we needed some retail
reward since we actually had time before we were supposed
to meet Chelsea for the promised gondola ride.

“Barbie!” she whooped.
I took her immediately to the closest toy store and

bought her yet another doll. We got accessories, hooker heels
as well as scuba gear, and a very classy, non-sparkly evening
gown. She picked more shoes and then Jack Sparrow from
Pirates of the Caribbean to take her out on a date.

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“Barbie dates pirates?” I asked my girl, wondering what

was wrong with Ken, who looked very nice and non-
threatening in his plastic box. “What‟s wrong with him?”

“Ken‟s boring.”
“He has very sensible-looking clothes.”
She sneered at me.
“Ken looks stable,” I waxed on.
The look I got, like I was confused, was adorable.
“Since when does Barbie date Jack?”
“He knows where the buried treasure is.”
Hence the scuba gear. I was the one playing catch-up

and I apologized.

“It‟s okay, Dad,” she patronized me, big cobalt eyes

smiling, patting my hand like I was infirm. “Maybe he needs
scuba gear too.”

Of course he did.
What I needed was a new dress shirt for the night out

bar-hopping, and she helped me pick one.

“Really?” I asked her, holding up the shiny crimson

short-sleeved number she was insisting on.

“Jack would wear it.”
“Jack‟s a pirate,” I reminded her.
“So what?”
It hardly mattered. I bought it because I was floating on

air. I was still half laughing as we were walking through the
jewelry department looking for a locket for Chelsea. I had
promised her one for the wedding as her “something new”
and had yet to follow through on my pledge.

“Dad-Dad, look at this one. I like it.”

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“I just bet you do.” I grinned at her. The diamond-

encrusted locket was just my daughter‟s taste, gaudy and
big. “You know that‟s, like, four million dollars, right?”

“What‟s a million?”
“I‟ll tell you later.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, monkey?”
“How come I call Aunt Chelsea my aunt but she‟s not

your sister like Aunt Sarah?”

She was always working things out and asking for

clarification. It was just one of the thousand reasons I loved
her.

“Because Aunt Chelsea is one of Daddy‟s oldest and

dearest friends. Don‟t you want her to be your aunt?”

“Yes, but really only Auntie Sarah is, right?”
“Right,” I assured her. “Chelsea‟s like your adopted

aunt.”

“Okay.”
She just had to get it straight in her head whenever a

question came up. “Daddy?”

“Yes?”
“That lady‟s waving at me.”
I straightened up from the case and looked around. I

spotted her because, as my daughter had said, she was
waving. Renata Cerreto crossed the floor to us very fast, her
husband Enzo following behind her.

“Oh.” I took a breath and put my hands on Grace‟s

small shoulders. “Hold on, baby.”

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“Noah,” Renata cooed, taking the final steps to us. She

kissed my cheek and then knelt immediately down in front of
Gracie. “Cara mia,” she cried, the tears spilling down her
cheeks as she grabbed my daughter and pulled her into her
arms.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Grace was

patting the older woman‟s back and telling her not to cry. I
had such a loving girl; her first instinct was to offer comfort.

Dante‟s father, taller than me, sturdier, his shoulders,

as always, wider than mine, yanked me into his arms and
crushed me against him. He kissed my cheek, hard and wet,
and I smiled as I hugged him back. He‟d always liked me and
the feeling had been mutual.

“Papa,” I said gently, rubbing his back.
“Figlio… mio,” he whispered into my hair.
He smelled good, that mixture of pipe tobacco and his

aftershave. I pulled slowly away before he, too, knelt in front
of my daughter. He spoke fast to her, smiling, and she shook
his hand and nodded when he asked her if I was her father.

I stood there and watched my daughter hold court. She

showed them her Barbie and all the clothes, explained about
her Aunt Chelsea marrying an old man and how she was
going on a boat ride at the hotel. They were mesmerized, and
I saw Claudio come rushing over to join us.

“Big mouth,” I accused him.
He shrugged and smiled wide.
Grace greeted him by name, and he let out a deep

breath and went down on one knee in front of her. She
started from the beginning and got out the Barbie stuff all
over again.

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“Noah.”
I turned, and there, without fanfare or announcement,

was Dante Cerreto. He was in an Armani suit, looking as
stunning as he had the last time I‟d seen him. The thick jet-
black hair was short on the back and sides, long on top; the
cobalt eyes striking under thick brows and framed with long,
curling lashes. His chiseled features, straight nose, and full
lips had always rendered the man breathtaking. Nothing had
changed. The first time I ever saw him I had nearly
swallowed my tongue, amazed when he had crossed the club
to ask me to dance. But the man had always maintained
that as soon as I had walked in the door, he had made sure
he got to me first. I told him that dark-brown hair and eyes
were nothing special. He had always disagreed.

Dante stepped in close to me, and, as always, I had to

tilt my head back to look up at his face.

“Hey.” I could barely breathe; speaking was tough.
“Noah,” he breathed out my name.
I stared into his dark indigo eyes, almost black now as

he looked back at me, and I noted how beautiful they were
and how perfectly they matched Grace‟s. “Dante.”

He didn‟t move, just stood there and soaked me in, and

I did the same. Ridiculous to think that my heart wouldn‟t
hurt and that I wouldn‟t tremble just a little with him in
front of me.

“You look good,” he told me, and I saw his jaw clench.
“You too.”
“Noah,” he repeated, and I heard the catch in his voice.
“How are you?”

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“I—I‟m….” He trailed off before he, too, knelt in front of

Grace. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, his voice ragged as he
swallowed hard. I saw his eyes get soft like he was going to
cry.

“Hi,” she replied. She smiled and reached out and pulled

a piece of thread off his black jacket. “I got this off for you.”

“Thank you.” He had to clear his throat before taking it

from her. “You‟re a big help.”

She nodded like she did when she wasn‟t sure what to

say, leaning against me, her arm going around the back of
my legs. “Who are you?”

“You don‟t know me?”
She shook her head.
“You‟ve never seen a picture of me?” He glanced

sideways up at me.

“No.”
“Really?”
“No, I promise.”
“No, no,” he murmured, smiling at her. “I believe you.

You know you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you.” She smiled warmly back, opening them up

big for him. “I‟m the only one in my family with blue eyes.”

“No, you‟re not,” he assured her, looking up at me, his

own eyes hard.

“Yes, I am,” she disagreed with him. “I wish my eyes

were brown like Daddy‟s, but Keith says that me and Daddy
both have pretty eyes. He says he can‟t pick.”

“Keith sounds like a smart man.”

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“He‟s coming today; we have to pick him up at the

airport.”

He nodded, still smiling at her.
She reached for his collar, fixing it, touching him like

she never touched anyone right away. It was unnerving for
me to watch. “I like gray,” she told him. “It‟s like rain.”

“I like gray too.”
She put a hand on his shoulder as she looked into his

face. “Your eyes are like mine.”

“Yes.”
“Your hair is black like mine too.”
He cleared his throat. “I see that. How old are you,

Grace?”

“Gracie,” she corrected him. “Everybody calls me

Gracie.”

“Gracie,” he repeated. “How old are you?”
“Five.”
“Five,” he repeated with a nod, rising to look deeply into

my eyes. “Five.”

“Yes, five,” she repeated. “I swear.”
“Don‟t swear,” I told her automatically. “Promise.”
“That‟s right.” She nodded.
“Gracie, I‟m just gonna talk to your Daddy right over

here, all right?”

“‟Kay,” she agreed and smiled at him.
He grabbed my arm and moved me just a few feet away

before whirling me around to face him. “Talk fast, Noah.”

“What? Why?”

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“Why?” He was stunned.
“Yeah, why?”
“She‟s mine.” His voice was hard, edged with anger.
I shook my head. “She‟s not.”
“Okay, lemme clarify. She‟s my daughter.”
“Of course.”
“Of course,” he repeated, and I knew he was on the

brink of exploding. “Are you kidding me? Are you actually
standing here in front of me saying of course? Was I ever
going to know?”

“I don‟t think so, no.”
“No?” He was dumbfounded, and I could tell how

overwhelmed he was as the color drained from his face.

“Not unless I saw you,” I confessed honestly. “Dante, I

did everything I could think of to get word to you after you
left me.”

“You knew the day at the airport,” he whispered,

absolutely ashen. “Sarah agreed. Was she already
pregnant?”

“Yeah, I came with sonogram pictures for you.”
He looked around and saw the bench by the door. I

followed him a few more feet away as he sat down hard. The
face lifted to me was hard to read because there was so
much chasing across his sharp features—pain, shock, anger,
fear, and most of all loss. He looked like he‟d been told
someone was dead.

“Sarah was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“That day you—you had pictures?”

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“Yes.”
“But then why when Beck sent word to you did—”
“What?”
“You wrote that you didn‟t think I should retire and that

you were tired of living how we were and… you told him to
keep me away from you.”

“I sent you a lot of letters and they all came back. I

couldn‟t get you on the phone; you didn‟t return any of my e-
mails or—”

“Beck came to see you.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Never.”
“Never?” His voice was rising. “You‟re sure?”
“I think I would remember that.”
“But you told him—”
“I spoke to the man once, Dante. He said you‟d been

transferred abroad.”

“You told him you wanted me gone, said you were sick

of living without me.”

I shook my head. “I told this to Beck? I said these things

to a man who—only when you were planning on retiring—did
you even tell about us? I told this to a man who could have
endangered your career…. Are you listening to yourself?”

“He said you changed your mind.”
“I don‟t know what we‟re talking about right now, but I

would have lived underwater to be with you.”

He just stared at me.

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“You knew that.”
He nodded slowly. “I did know that.”
“So, see, you just wanted out.”
His eyes swallowed me. “No.”
I shrugged. “I don‟t know what to tell you.”
“I got a letter from you telling me that it was over.”
“A letter?” I scoffed. I was suddenly furious at myself for

getting sucked into the conversation. It was water under the
bridge, six years too late. “I only wish I could have gotten a
letter to you, and by the way, you ended it when you told me
you were in love with Cassandra.”

“What?” He was so rattled; he was holding his hands up

like he was fending me off and his eyes were wild. “What?”

“Cassandra.” I chuckled because it was getting silly

now. “You remember, the woman you left me for.”

“What?” he asked again sharply.
“Cassandra,” I repeated, smiling. “I got to the baggage

claim, and you were kissing her. Is this ringing any bells?”

“No, that was just—”
“It made sense. Straight men become gay so the reverse

must be true in some cases. It wasn‟t such a leap, ya know?
The part that killed me was the timing. I mean, you dumped
me at the airport.” I squinted at him. “You ended us right
there, right then.”

“No, no, no,” he told me, rising up off the bench to his

towering height. “Beck sent word beforehand that it was just
for—”

“You don‟t have to explain,” I assured him. “It‟s so long

ago that it‟s like another life.”

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“Wait, no, Noah,” he pleaded, grabbing my arms quickly,

holding tight. “It was all for—”

“I‟m sorry you didn‟t know about Gracie,” I apologized to

him. “I really did try and get word to you, though. And your
name is on her birth certificate.”

“It is?” He was breathless.
“Of course it is,” I told him quietly. “She‟s your child,

Dante.”

“Mine.”
“Well, not yours so much as your gift to me,” I finished,

stepping free of his hands.

“Why did you send the dissolution papers?”
“You sent them to me,” I clarified for him. “They came

from Paris, where you were with Cassandra.”

“You sent me your ring.” His voice was flat and cold.
“You didn‟t want me. Why did I need it?”
He was lost in thought, and I used that moment to

return to my daughter. I took her hand. “Well, it was good to
see everybody, but we‟re late for Aunt Chelsea‟s boat ride.”

“No,” Dante yelled sharply, striding over to us. He

looked from me to Gracie and back again to me. “I need to
get everything from you: phone numbers, your address, e-
mail and… whatever else there is.”

“Why?” I asked skeptically.
“Why?” he asked like the question was the stupidest one

he had ever heard.

“Oh.” It hit me because it was obvious. My kid had just

gotten the warmest welcome ever, and I was being totally
oblivious. “Your folks. I‟m sorry; I wasn‟t even thinking.”

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“My folks,” he repeated. “No. I want to talk to—”
“Keith!” Gracie squealed excitedly, twisting her hand

free of mine, interrupting everything.

We all turned and there, in the lobby of the hotel, was

the man who wanted to move our casual dating to a
commitment. He wanted to be my boyfriend. And he was
standing there, frozen, waiting, looking at everyone, his eyes
riveted on Grace and Dante. But she‟d seen him, too, and
run to him, and everyone heard her call.

“Keith-Keith-Keith!”
She zigzagged around people, and I saw them all make

the awww face as the little girl ran to a man she so
obviously adored.

He bent when she reached him and drew her up fast

against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and
kissed his cheek. He kissed her back and talked to her as
they joined us.

“Who is this man?” Renata asked coolly, walking up to

stand beside Dante.

“He‟s a friend of mine.”
“Just a friend?” Dante asked icily.
As though he had any right in the world to question me

at all. “Yes.”

“You don‟t live with him.” Dante was making sure.
“Oh for crissakes.” I flared irritably, so done with being

there and talking to him and his family. “I need to go.”

Renata looked pained. “This is Grace‟s father?”
“No,” I assured her.

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“No,” Dante seconded. “She‟s mine, Mom, just look at

her.”

“Yes.” She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes,

reaching for my hand and squeezing it tight. “You will let me
see her?”

“Of course.” I smiled at her as Keith and Grace joined

me.

Renata‟s hands went to my face. “Thank you, Noah. I

had no idea I had a grandchild.”

And I was sorry about that. My parents had a five-year

head start on her. “I tried to get in touch with Dante.”

She nodded. “I have no doubt, angel.”
“Lemme give you my number,” I soothed her.
“I‟ll get it,” Dante told her. “We‟ll figure it out.”
I saw that my daughter had her arm around Keith‟s

neck, content now that she was at eye level with everyone.

“What‟re you doing here?” I asked, smiling at him. “I

thought Gracie and I were picking you up at the airport.”

“I couldn‟t wait.” He smiled back. “I had to see my two

favorite people in the world.”

And at that moment, I wanted more than anything for

the feeling to be mutual. He was such a nice man, so
genuine, and he absolutely thought the world of my
daughter, which was a temptation all by itself. People who
loved her, saw her for the amazing person she was now and
would surely grow up to be, they went to the head of the line.

“Who‟s this?” he demanded quietly, his eyes going to

Dante, the only threat he could see. His tone was icy and
low.

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“Who am I?” Dante asked sharply.
“We have the same eyes,” Grace told Keith, pointing at

Dante.

“Do you?” Keith asked, pushing when he shouldn‟t

have.

“Yes, we do.” My ex smiled at his daughter, but those

eyes of his he shared with her were cold when they fell on
Keith.

I knew it was going to be bad, so I slipped my hand

around Keith‟s arm and told Dante that we were staying at
the Venetian. “Give me a call, and we can talk some more, all
right? We‟re here through the weekend,” I informed him,
deliberately softening my voice. “The name on the room is
Wheeler when you call.”

“I remember Wheeler,” he snapped at me, the chill clear

in his voice. “I remember.”

“Good.” I smiled and then said my goodbyes to his

family. Renata and Enzo waved to Grace as we turned away,
and I saw Claudio‟s eyes fill. I didn‟t look at Dante again.

Keith and I walked in silence back to the Venetian and

dropped Gracie off with Chelsea for the gondola ride with
less than ten minutes to spare. Back in the room, he closed
the door behind me before he erupted with a roar.

“What the fuck is he doing here, Noah?”
He knew who Dante was, there could be no doubt; the

resemblance between my ex and his daughter was striking.
And Keith knew my story, knew the circumstances of Grace‟s
birth.

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“I assure you I have no clue.” I shook my head, crossing

the room to the bed and flopping down on the end of it. “Holy
shit, that was surreal.”

“Surreal? That‟s all you have to say?”
I looked up into his face. “Yeah, I think so.” I laughed

because his expression was just dumbstruck. “Surreal pretty
much sums it all up. It was fuckin‟ weird as shit.”

“Weird?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And what?”
His turn to smile. “And that‟s it? No pangs?”
“Pangs of what?”
“Love, idiot.”
“Nice.” I chuckled.
“C‟mon, Noah, just—”
“No, not love, just surprise,” I said, hoping that was

true. I was still processing the encounter; I wasn‟t sure what
I had felt, but I couldn‟t still love him. Surely that emotion
had not been in the mix.

“I‟ll bet.”
“And the way he looked at Gracie….” I let out a deep

breath.

“That‟s to be expected.”
I had told him that he would never have to worry about

meeting Dante Cerreto. Ever. Turned out I had lied.

“Noah?”
I patted the spot on the bed beside me.

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“You‟re not freaked out?”
“Maybe a little,” I confessed as he sat down next to me

so that we were shoulder to shoulder. God, Dante Cerreto,
what were the odds?

“If he tries to take her—”
“Oh, Keith, he won‟t.” I shook my head, interrupting

him. “He was never like that, and now, with so much time
passed, he—”

“You‟re sure?”
“Positive.”
“But how can you really know?”
And while there were, in fact, things that I didn‟t know

about my ex, some things I knew as truth. He would not try
and take my child from me; he was simply not made like
that.

“People change, Noah, and his name is on her birth

certificate.” He played devil‟s advocate for me.

“Stop worrying, you should be more concerned about

your lack of will power in the face of a five-year-old girl.”

“What‟re you talking about?”
“Well, I understand that a certain person in this room

excused her from eating her carrots the other day after her
father specifically told her to eat them because they were,
and I quote, „gross‟.”

He grunted, smiling. “She‟s turning in to such a little

narc.”

“I can‟t believe you caved.”
“They were some sad-lookin‟ carrots.”

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“Keith Everett Brand.” I snickered, getting up to settle

myself on his lap, facing him. “How am I ever going to
believe anything you say if—”

“But I wouldn‟t have eaten them.”
“Not the point.” I was grinning and leaned close to kiss

the side of his neck.

“Wait, am I being punished?” He teased me, shifting

under me, hands on my thighs, yanking me closer. “‟Cause I
gotta tell you that having you in my lap is pretty much a
reward for me any day of the week.”

I grinned at him as he twisted around and threw me

down on the bed. His big, hard body came down on top of
me, pinning me under him. I put my hands on his face and
beamed up at him.

“God, you have the most beautiful eyes,” he told me,

staring.

“Yeah?” I fished, liking the compliments that he always

meant.

“Yeah.” His voice was a throaty whisper. “They‟re like

chocolate.”

“And you like chocolate.”
“It‟s my favorite.”
“Smooth talker.” I kissed his chin, my hands digging

into his back.

“Jesus, Noah,” he grunted, shifting between my thighs,

leaning to kiss me.

Watching him respond to me was always a treat. I took

his breath away.

“Have you thought about it any more?”

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“What?” I asked, sliding my hands through the thick,

dark-blond hair, noticing for the millionth time what a good
face the man had—warm, the laugh lines around his eyes
deep and kind.

We had met at a work site. He was doing a walk-through

of a house he had just completed building; I was looking at
the dirt lot, trying to figure out what kind of landscaping
would be best. I was standing alone, and then suddenly he
was there at my side, asking me if I remembered him from a
party six months earlier at the home of a mutual friend.

I didn‟t remember him, but it turned out that he

remembered me. And he wanted to take me out. I had no
reason to refuse the tall blond man. He was handsome,
charming, and had gorgeous eyes that glowed deep emerald
green when he looked at me. When he arrived to pick me up
and fell in love with Grace, talking to her about school,
ending up making her an origami swan out of newspaper, I
had no choice but to open up my heart to him. At the end of
the night, when he pressed me up against my front door,
kissing me so hard and long that I had to shove him off me
to breathe, I thought that maybe he was the one.

I told myself that no one had everything and waiting for

perfection was stupid, especially if I, myself, was not without
flaw. I needed to open my heart up to new possibilities.
Prince Charming was not going to make it; I needed to stop
waiting for him.

All my friends were envious. The construction kept

Keith‟s body hard and lean with long muscles and ropes of
veins on his hands. I loved his hands, the strength in them
and the calluses. Even as a project manager, not being the
one actually doing the heavy lifting anymore, he still put

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great physical demands on his body. It was okay with me. I
liked massaging out the aches and pains at the end of the
day, my hands sliding over his warm bronze skin, leaning
over to kiss and taste him, my fingers running the length of
his spine. He was ready to take me to bed, but it had only
been a month at the time and I wasn‟t ready. The truth of
the matter was that I was stalling.

Kissing was fine, blowjobs were fine, rubbing each other

off was fine, but us together naked in my bed was far from it.
In my bed meant that when Grace woke up in the morning,
he would be there and she would have questions. Daily, she
tiptoed down the hall from her room to mine and crawled
under the covers with me. My door was always open—what
would it mean if it were closed?

So we were dating, and when I had seen him out with

another guy, I felt a twinge of regret that I had not made the
arrangement exclusive. Grace didn‟t understand when I
wouldn‟t let her go say hello, but I had explained that Keith
had other friends besides her Daddy.

“Why?”
“Because Keith doesn‟t live with us,” was all I could

come up with.

And that had made sense to her. “Like Uncle Pete and

Uncle Rick.”

“Yes.”
Grace understood that her uncles were married, just

like her grandparents. She wanted to know if, when a man
came to live with us, she would then have two daddies. I told
her it depended on what she wanted to call another man.

“I won‟t have a mommy, huh?”

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“No, bunny,” I said without a shred of regret in my

voice. I had always told her exactly who I was and who I was
going to love.

“Okay,” she had replied, beaming up at me. “Can I have

a puppy?”

For her, this was the bigger issue. She was five—five

and a half, five and three-quarters, close to six—and the
important things in her life were me and her hamster Pete
(named after her uncle), her babysitter Brandi, and her
friends. Keith was a visitor; she didn‟t count him as staying
yet.

When he showed up later that night at my door, there to

apologize, I told him it was fine. We were dating, we weren‟t
exclusive, and he could do what he wanted, sleep with
whoever he wanted.

“I want to sleep with you, Noah,” he had told me,

grabbing and kissing me until I shoved him off. He was
drunk, so I put him on the couch with aspirin and lots of
water. He had felt like an ass in the morning, and even worse
when Grace asked him who the man was. She wanted to
know if he was going to kiss the man like he sometimes
kissed me.

He had no idea what to say.
She was waiting.
I didn‟t let him answer; she was too young to do logic

with him. Like, if he wanted just to kiss me, why was he out
with anybody else? That would have made no sense to her.
She was black and white; gray was just confusing when you
were almost six.

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The fact of the matter was that if it was just me, I would

have slept with him already. But it wasn‟t just me.

“I‟m ready to be in this, Noah,” he told me, but the

following night I had to work late and I had seen him going
into a bar downtown on my way home.

When he was with me, he let his phone go to voice mail

instead of answering. I wasn‟t stupid; I knew he was dating
more than just me. And it was okay. We had a good time
when we were together, but he wasn‟t ready to be a little
girl‟s whole life.

Now we were well into the fourth month of dating, and

he wanted more. He wanted us exclusive; he wanted me to
say it. His vision included us moving in and being a family.
The idea of waking up in my bed, making breakfast, and
driving Grace to school had become something he craved. He
was ready, he told me, for his life to start, and he wanted
that with me and my daughter. I kept thinking that I would
wake up one morning and feel the same, but as the days
went by, I never did.

“Hey.”
I looked up into the familiar green depths of the man‟s

eyes. “Sorry.”

“Thinkin‟ about me?”
“I was… I am,” I confessed, shifting under him,

wrapping my legs around his lean hips.

“Good,” he said, bending to kiss me. “How ‟bout I pound

you through the mattress?”

“How ‟bout I get changed for the rehearsal dinner, and

you call your friends.”

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He leaned his head against my chest. “One of these days

you‟re gonna let me have you, Wheeler. I can‟t fuckin‟ wait.”

I was happy that he didn‟t press it.

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Chapter Three

rehearsal dinner was a blur of activity, and I dropped

Grace off with Chelsea‟s little sister Cassidy in her room after
we ate. Cassidy had agreed to watch the flower girl, who was
Grace; the ring-bearer, Gigi; and the three-year-old who was
going to carry Chelsea‟s train, Mandy. She loved kids, and at
seventeen there wasn‟t a lot else she could do in Vegas on a
Saturday night. I gave her my cell phone number and went
with Chelsea and the bridal party and five other of her good
friends to spend the last night of freedom with her. Keith left
with friends of his who were in town for a poker tournament
but made me promise to call the second I was headed back
to the hotel. He gave my ass a nice squeeze to let me know
what he wanted while he was in Vegas.

We started the night dancing at Studio 54 at the MGM

Grand and just went from there. I wasn‟t going to drink at
all, but I knew Grace was in good hands and being on the
strip, none of us was going to be doing any driving.

We hit Tryst, and Rockhouse, Pure, and Tao, and we

were having more drinks at yet another club with a
spectacular rooftop view when Chelsea started hanging on
me and telling me how much she loved me.

“I know, sweetie,” I told her, hugging her tight. “I love

you back.”

“Noah, will I be happy?”
I looked at her hard. “Of course; you love Shawn a lot.”

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“Do I?”
I laughed at her phrasing. “I hope so.”
“Do you love Keith?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I smiled at

my inebriated friend.

“I just… do you?”
“Not yet,” I answered honestly. “But I will.” Everybody

loved him.

“And you should!” Lindsey Thompson, another of the

bridesmaids, blurted out, leaning against me. “I mean, Noah,
that man of yours… damn, I‟d fuck him.”

I laughed at her. “Well, thanks, Linds, that‟s quite a

compliment.”

“Shit yeah,” she slurred, kissing my cheek sloppily.
“Where‟s Beth?” I asked, looking around for the

designated walker, as it were. She was the “drunk-wrangler”
for the evening. We had rock-paper-scissored, and she lost.

“There.” She pointed.
The woman in question was at the bar ordering another

Diet Coke.

I waved.
She flipped me off.
When I started laughing, she tried very hard not to

smile back, so she was growling when she reached the table.

“You suck,” she snapped at me.
“Awww.” I grinned, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“C‟mon, it‟s not my fault your skills do not include knowing
that you always double paper as a move.”

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She pinched my side, or tried to. “There‟s no fat to

grab.”

I flexed a bicep for her.
“Yes, yes, you‟re very pretty, but you still suck.”
I arched an eyebrow for her.
“Oh, could we not take this conversation to the gutter?”
“I like the gutter.”
“Me too!” Chelsea chimed in loudly, draping an arm

around my neck, leaning on me.

“Oh we know, Chelce,” Beth agreed, widening her eyes.
“Did I tell you how great you look tonight?” Chelsea

asked me seriously, grabbing my face, turning my head so
our eyes met.

“No,” I croaked out, talking with fish lips since she was

squeezing my mouth.

“Well, you do; you look positively edible. You‟ve got all

the girls and all the boys checking you out.”

It was a load of crap, and she was drunk, but it was

sweet nonetheless.

“Those jeans are hugging all the right things,” she said,

admiring my long legs and narrow waist as she slid her hand
across my chest. “Jesus, you‟re made nice.”

I eased out of the grip that only your great-aunt

normally held you in before smiling and then hollowing out
my cheeks in rapid succession to get some feeling back in
my face.

“I love that you let this get long,” she murmured,

brushing my hair back from my eyes. “You just get hotter
with age, my friend.”

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“Well, thank you very much and right backatcha.”
“The shirt looks good too,” she purred. “Crimson is good

on you.”

“Which is funny,” I chuckled, “because Gracie‟s the one

who pick—”

“Oh shit,” she cut me off.
“What?”
“I… oh fuck me.”
“What?” I grinned. “Honey, you know that your girl parts

are pretty, but they just don‟t do it for—”

“That‟s not… is that… oh yeah, oh shit. Holy fuckin‟

shit.” She grabbed my hand as Dante Cerreto reached the
table.

“Hi,” he said gruffly, looking down at me.
“Oh, hey.” I smiled up at him, admiring the navy-blue

Donna Karan suit with the pale blue sweater underneath. It
was softer, the color, than what he was wearing earlier. The
hues set off his eyes. “You look nice.”

The muscles in his jaw clenched.
“What‟s wrong?”
Before he could answer, the girls flocked. And I

understood why: the man was simply mouth-watering.

His smile made his blue-black eyes glitter under the

lights of the club. The way the suit clung to his broad
shoulders, showing off the whole V-line of the man, was
stunning. When he spoke and the girls found the voice deep
and resonant, they were enchanted. His hug for Chelsea was
warm, and I watched her hesitance as she tried to make
sense of how and why he was there. But more drinks came,

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which stopped her from questioning him and allowed him to
return to his real agenda: me.

The man had come looking for me, and when he shoved

his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and turned
those cobalt eyes from the group to my face, I understood
that I had been looked for and found. He had hunted me
down. “May I speak to you?”

“Sure,” I whispered, sliding off my stool to walk around

Chelsea to get to him.

“You know,” Autumn Kinsey, another of the

bridesmaids, chimed in, putting her hand lightly on his
shoulder, “he‟s taken, but you can have any of the rest of
us.”

“He‟s not taken.” Dante exhaled slowly, his eyes never

leaving mine even to address her. “I can assure you of that.”

“Oh yes I am.” I was curt, walking away from him,

heading toward the patio. As I reached the railing, he was
suddenly beside me, close.

We were silent, both of us staring out at the sparkling

lights of the strip.

“So,” he began after several minutes, clearing his throat,

brushing my shoulder with his. “I spoke to Beck this
afternoon after I saw you.”

“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did he have to say?” I asked as I leaned

forward, elbows on the railing.

“He told me what happened.”
“I‟m glad.”

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There was a silence as I felt his fingers close around a

long piece of my hair and curl it around my ear. It was
surprising that the simple motion, his fingers brushing
across my cheek, caused a flutter in my stomach and sent a
shiver dancing over my skin.

“You don‟t want to know what he said?”
“Will it change anything?”
“Maybe not.”
I shrugged. “See.”
“Look at me.”
I turned and took him in, all of him. “You look good, you

know.”

“So do you.” His eyes running all over me told me that

he had spoken the truth. He liked what he was looking at.

“I always knew you‟d age well.” I smiled at him.
He cracked a grin.
“Like wine.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Or cheese,” I teased him, arching a brow for his benefit.
There was a long sigh from him. “Noah, the whole thing

was set up because I had to let the people who were
watching me think we were breaking up.”

“We were breaking up,” I assured him.
“But the only reason we actually did was because Beck

screwed me good.”

“Why would he do that?” I asked as he reached out and

brushed my hair out of my eyes, his fingertips tracing across
my forehead.

“Can I kiss you?”

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I was jolted because we weren‟t talking about kissing. I

went from glancing at the skyline back to his eyes. “No.”

“Why not?”
“‟Cause I‟m with Keith.”
“You are so not with Keith.”
“What‟re you talking about?”
“I saw you with him today,” he reminded me, a smile

curling his lip. “I know what love looks like on you and that
wasn‟t it.”

“I beg to differ.” I straightened up, shifting to take a step

away.

He grabbed my bicep, stilling my motion. “You‟re mad

and you‟re fighting just to fight with me.”

“I‟m not mad,” I snapped at him, “I‟m irritated because

you presume to know how I feel when I haven‟t seen you in
almost six years.”

“I know everything about you.”
“Maybe you used to but—”
“Still do,” he assured me, his eyes on mine. “You love

me.”

“I used to love you,” I corrected him.
“No.” He shook his head as I tried to pull free. “You still

do. No matter what you try and tell yourself, that little girl is
mine and so are you.”

“No.”
He smiled tenderly. “Then kiss me and we‟ll see.”
“I‟m not kissing you.”
He let me go and I was going to walk away, but he took

my hand in his and yanked me after him before I truly

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realized what was happening. He dragged me into a dark
corner of the terrace, away from the bottle-service-only
seating areas and the private cabanas, and shoved me hard
up against the side of the building. He pressed up against
me, letting me feel the strong body under the suit, and I had
my hands on his chest to push him away as I lifted my head
to tell him off.

He bent to kiss me, his hand on my throat, and I said

no.

“Why?” he asked me, his voice hoarse and the muscles

in his jaw clenching.

“You only care about Gracie. I promise, you can see

her.”

“I can?”
“Yes, she‟s your daughter.”
“And you‟re her father.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I gotta tell ya, I want both of you.”
“What?” I asked him, my panic changing to defeat.

“Why?”

“‟Cause everything I thought about my life got changed

today.”

“Dante—”
“You two belong to me.”
I shook my head as he bent and kissed me. And in that

instant, when my heart leaped in my chest, I understood the
difference between loving someone and being in love with
someone. I loved Keith, I did, like a friend, but it paled in
comparison to the depth of my feelings for the man who had

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walked out of my life six years ago. I was shaking when he
moved to look down at me.

His smile lit his eyes and he let out a deep breath. “Oh

yeah, I remember you.”

“No, I—”
“Baby, you were supposed to meet me in Paris a month

after the airport. That‟s how it was set up.”

“What?” I was having trouble following what he was

saying.

“Beck wanted to keep me in, so he fucked with my life,”

I was informed as his fingers slid over my jaw, his eyes
soaking me in, his other hand on my hip, anchoring me to
the wall.

I shook my head. “I don‟t understand.”
“Noah.”
When I looked up, he kissed me again.
The first one I couldn‟t have stopped; the second one

was all me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on
my toes, and kissed him hard and long and deep. He tasted
so good, and the moan came up out of me loud and lusty
and full of aching, whimpering need.

“Come with me,” he whispered into my hair.
“No.” I was breathless as I pushed away from him.
“Noah,” he rasped, reaching for me. “I thought you

didn‟t want me. I thought all this time that you gave up on
me, stopped loving me ‟cause I was gone so much.”

“That‟s bullshit. You knew me better‟n that. You wanted

to believe it so you could leave me.”

“No.”

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“I don‟t believe you.”
“You have to.”
I shrugged. “Well I don‟t.”
“Noah.” He grabbed my arms and pulled me back up

against him, crushing me against his hard chest. “You were
supposed to come to Paris. We were never supposed to be
apart.”

“And yet we have been for more than six years.”
“But that‟s not my fault! That‟s Beck‟s fault, and—”
“No.” I shook my head harder. “It‟s just not possible.

This all can‟t be some bullshit misunder—”

“It‟s not a misunderstanding! It‟s not you thinking one

thing and me another; it‟s you specifically being given
misinformation and me the same. Beck fucked us both.”

“Dante—”
“Kiss me again.”
“No.”
“God, I missed you.” He sounded pained. “There‟s not a

day that goes by that I haven‟t thought of you.”

“Me too,” I blurted out.
“Then let me have you.” He grinned wickedly as he took

me in his arms.

I opened my mouth under his as I clung to him like I

was drowning.

One hand went to the back of my head, holding me

there, the other to my ass. The kiss went on, all tongues and
teeth and lips, and when he squeezed, I moaned into his
mouth. He wedged his knee between my thighs, grinding into
me, and I shoved at him to get him off.

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He yanked my head back hard, giving me the air I

needed. I gasped under his powerful hands, the one pressing
me forward, my now-swollen cock aching and leaking as he
pressed against it, his hot mouth closing on the curve of my
neck.

“You are so fuckin‟ gorgeous…. God, Noah, I want you

so bad.”

I whimpered in the back of my throat. No one ever

manhandled me like Dante Cerreto. No one had ever known
exactly what I wanted, what I needed, and delivered it.

“I like the belt,” he said, and I felt his fingers on the

buckle, heard it jingle as it came free, “and these jeans are
fuckin‟ hot.” There was the snap and then the slide of the
zipper. “But this,” he murmured, bending toward me, his lips
hovering over mine, our breath mingling, “is what I want to
taste.”

His fingers had slid under the elastic waistband of my

briefs to wrap around my throbbing shaft, now wet and
dripping.

I arched up into him, my back bowing as I shuddered.
“Oh yeah,” he growled, lifting me up, “put your legs

around me.”

I did as I was told, and he walked me back into a

darker, secluded area.

“Kiss me,” he demanded. “Really hard, really good, like

you used to.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him

down, our mouths crashing together as his lips parted, and I
thrust my tongue inside. His low, deep groan was so sexy my
brain shorted out, and I kissed him with everything I had.

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Our tongues tangled and the kiss got wet and

ravenous—licking, biting—and then he suddenly dropped me
on my feet and shoved me up against the wall, yanking my
jeans and briefs to my ankles as he went to his knees.

He looked up into my eyes as his lips swallowed the end

of my cock.

It felt incredible, but more, because it was Dante, and I

had never, ever, even for a minute stopped loving him. Dear
God in heaven I was in trouble.

“Oh, baby, look at you.” His voice was gruff, low. “You‟re

coming apart.”

“Dante, stop.”
“Are you kidding?” He stroked over my shaft, fingers

sliding on the saliva and pre-come. “I saw you today and got
hard just seeing you. I want to be inside you so bad…. I
thought I was gonna die just looking at you.”

I whimpered as his mouth took me back inside, sliding

to the base, deep-throating me as he‟d always done in one
long, smooth glide. He pulled back, and his tongue swirled
around the engorged head, licking underneath, tracing the
lines of veins before sucking me down again, the suction
stronger, rougher, as he buried his nose in my groin. He
leaned back, and I felt him slip his fingers into his mouth
with my cock and then out again. When he pressed a finger
to my entrance, I pushed back on it.

“No more saying you don‟t want it,” he growled, forcing

me around, face first into the smooth, cool wall, my legs
kicked apart as far as the jeans around my ankles would
allow.

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I heard the crinkle of foil, the tearing, his belt and

zipper, then his hands were on my ass, spreading me, and
the head of his cock was pressed to my entrance.

“Noah,” he whispered, his breath hot in my ear.
“Please,” I begged him.
“Yes,” he said before he pushed forward deep inside my

body.

My muscles tensed, and the stretching pinched, burned,

and then he fisted my cock and stroked from head to balls as
he bit down on my shoulder. Only Dante knew every place to
touch, to bite, not to ask if he could but to simply do. He
thrust deep, and I cried out his name.

“Jesus, Noah, you are so fuckin‟ tight,” he moaned,

pulling out only to pound back into me. “Put your hands on
the wall.”

I leaned forward, fingers splayed, and he started

pumping hard and deep, the strokes unrelenting. His hands
were on my hips as he leaned forward and licked and sucked
on the back of my neck, between my shoulder blades, and
when he yanked my head back, on my throat.

My head lolled back, notching against him, and his

hand pressed into my abdomen, feeling the muscles move as
he slid in and out of me.

“You‟re even more beautiful than I remember and your

body knows mine, wants mine; feel it, Noah, feel how well I
fit inside you.”

No one had ever filled me the way he did, felt the way he

did.

“I love being buried inside you. I missed it, missed you.”
I needed him, there was no denying it.

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“I wanna be in bed with you. I want you to ride my cock,

to wrap your legs around me. I want to feel all of you holding
me.”

He pulled out, and I almost screamed before he picked

me up and put me down on a very cold, flat table. I gasped,
startled from the chill, as he yanked off one boot then the
other, dropping them, not caring, his only concern shucking
me out of my jeans, throwing them and my briefs to the
ground. He tugged me forward, put my legs up over his
shoulders and slid his enormous cock back inside me.

“Oh fuck yeah, baby, take it all.”
He had always loved to watch his shaft disappear inside

me.

I grabbed my own leaking cock and started pumping.
“Do it harder,” he commanded me. “Make yourself

come.”

My back arched as I rose up off the table, and he

plunged in and out of me as my muscles squeezed around
him, clenching tight.

“Baby, come for me,” he cried out, as I felt the shudder

tear through him.

His face contorted in ecstasy, head back, every muscle

and every line of him tense, corded, eyes closed, not
breathing. He was a vision. The man with his jet-black hair
and midnight-blue eyes was the second most beautiful thing
I had ever seen, and with him buried inside of me, in rapture
because of me, I was lost.

I came hard, spurting over my hand, wrist, and

abdomen. I rode a wave of white-hot, blinding euphoria,

Again | Mary Calmes

feeling it roll through me and out, over and over, until I was
spent and boneless beneath him.

“You‟re fuckin‟ beautiful,” he whispered, which made my

heart hurt, at the same time reminding me of what I had just
done. I was instantly swimming in guilt.

“Shit,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands,

roaring into them as he eased gently from my body.

“What‟s wrong?”
How could he even ask that?
“Baby?”
I growled, sat up, and shoved him back away from me.

He was still wearing his suit jacket and the lightweight
sweater; I was the only one naked from the waist down, my
short-sleeved shirt having been torn open, the buttons flying
in every direction.

Yanking it off, I wiped myself with it, grabbed my

underwear and jeans, pulled them on, still hopping on one
leg, and then went in search of my boots.

“What‟re you doing?”
“Well, now I have to go back to my hotel room half

naked and explain to the nice man waiting there that I
cheated on him and we‟re over and—”

“There‟s no way if it was serious at all that you would

have let me put you up against a wall. That is not you.”

“Oh no?”
“No, dear,” he assured me with a very evil grin. “Loyal is

how you‟re made.”

“Oh yeah, because I—”
“What are you even doing with him? Are you dating?”

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“I—”
“Have you even fucked him?”
“That‟s none of your business!” I was indignant.
He grunted. “Yeah, I didn‟t think so.”
“Help me find my boots,” I snapped at him.
“I would like to point out that the night we met I had

you in my car.”

“Yes, remind me of one of my finer moments.”
“Oh, it was fine.” His voice came out low and rumbling,

and he tipped his head, staring at me. “And hot and sexy
and wild. You look all sweet and innocent on the outside, but
you fuck like a porn star.”

“Charming.”
He laughed at me. “May I just compliment your ass

again? It‟s fuckin‟ gorgeous.”

“Boots,” I growled at him.
”There‟s one under the table.” He cleared his throat.
I pulled it on and looked around for the other one.
“Plant.”
“Shit.”
“I‟ll go with you to explain things to Keith,” he said

cheerfully, straightening his jacket, looking model perfect
again, nothing out of place, even his hair that he had raked
his fingers through. He had discarded the filled condom,
tucked himself back in his pants, and was ready to follow me
home.

“Oh hell no!”
“But I wanna see Grace.”

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“You—”
“And after the wedding tomorrow, I wanna take you

guys home with me to Venice.”

“To Italy?”
“To Maine.” He chuckled, his eyes warm with affection.

“God, you‟re cute; come here.”

“I am not going to—”
“You‟ll love Maine.” He smiled wide, advancing on me. “I

have an inn; we should have a white Christmas this year,
and Gracie can make a snowman.”

“Dante—”
“And we can all go for a sleigh ride, and you can open a

landscaping business—you still do that, right?”

“Yeah, but—”
“You can have your pick of where you want Gracie to go

to school. There‟s a really good private Catholic—”

“Are you high?” I yelled at him. “Dante, we live in Santa

Monica and—”

“Not anymore,” he assured me, grabbing my arm and

yanking me up against him. “You live with me. You love me, I
know you do, and Gracie will too. All I ever wanted was you.”

I yanked free. “Well, you sure didn‟t try very hard to get

me back.”

“Are you kidding? What was I supposed to do? I had e-

mails from you that—”

“It was easy for you to leave. You—”
He grabbed me and swept me forward into his arms,

crushing me against him. “I never wanted to be apart; I
thought it was what you wanted, and I thought you were

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unhappy. We were fighting about my job all the time,
remember? I knew you wanted me to quit so I put it in
motion. I had no idea that Beck screwed me over.”

“Why didn‟t you check?”
“I didn‟t think I had a right to.”
I shook my head, pushing out of his arms, shivering in

the cold night air.

“Here,” he began, taking off his suit jacket.
“No, don‟t do that.” I turned to leave. “Just… call me

later and we—”

“No.” His hands were back on me as he barred my

escape. “I want you to go back to your room, get your stuff,
get Grace, and come to my suite with me.”

“Absolutely not,” I told him flatly. “Go find someone to

marry and have kids with. That‟s what you‟re looking for,
anyway. You want it easy—instant family to love and adore
you.”

“You‟ve got it all wrong. I—”
“No,” I told him, stepping away. “You left me and my

baby; there‟s no fixing that.”

“There is.”
“No.” I felt the tears well in my eyes, and I was so pissed

off at myself. “Everything happens for a reason.”

“Exactly right,” he agreed. “I didn‟t want to come on this

trip and my Mom made me. Now I know if I hadn‟t, I would
have hated you forever.”

“Hated me?” I half yelled.
“Sure. You gave up on me, and I loved you more than

anything.”

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“You left me, Dante, not the other way around.”
“But I didn‟t know that. I thought you left me.”
“God, what a mess,” I groaned, walking away from him,

needing air. I grasped the railing and looked back out at Las
Vegas.

“Noah.” His voice was tender as he walked up beside

me, his hand warm on the back of my neck. “You can‟t think
for a minute that I‟m just going to let you go.”

“Let me?” I turned to look up at him. “Dante, I haven‟t

even seen you for—”

“Noah, love,” he soothed me, taking me gently into his

arms, “you belong to me. So does Gracie. I know you think
you owe Keith something, but I swear to you the only thing
you owe him is goodbye.”

“This is so not about Keith.”
“Baby, if only you had gotten the letter I wrote this

never—”

“What letter?” I looked up into his face. “You wrote me a

letter?”

“Yeah.” His hand went around the back of my neck, his

thumb tracing the length of my jaw.

“What did it say?”
He grinned shyly. “That you could yell at me in Paris.”
“Yell at you for what?”
“Kissing Cassandra.” He exhaled, leaning in to kiss me,

gently, softly, just a brush of his lips over mine.

“But you said you loved—”

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“No. Beck was supposed to tell you that my family and I

were targets of Ernesto Shapiro. I was on that case at the
time, and me and my folks and you all made his hit list.”

“Somebody tried to kill you?” I asked, stepping out of his

arms.

“Yeah. They came after Cassandra because they thought

it was her I was in love with. We closed that case; I did my
part without any idea that I lost you in the process.”

“Oh. So Cassandra, she… I mean, she never….”
“I never loved her, Noah. It was the case, and we faked it

all. You were supposed to come to the airport like you did,
but then I thought you were acting too.”

“But why didn‟t you call me to make sure I knew

everything?” I asked.

“Beck told me it wasn‟t necessary.”
“But why did you believe him?”
“What reason did I have for not believing him?”
“I would think you would have wanted to tell me

yourself,” I claimed.

“And how was I supposed to do that without getting you

killed?”

“I don‟t know.” I stared up into his eyes, smiling

suddenly.

“What?”
“Your daughter just looks so much like you.”
His jaw clenched.
“She has so many of your expressions.”
“You‟re killin‟ me.”

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“No, I don‟t mean it like…. I just, I tried so hard to tell

you. I sent so many letters.”

“I know. Beck said you did.”
“Where is he now?”
“Retired. He lives in Wyoming.”
“Is he sorry?”
“No. He did what he thought was best.”
“And I guess it was for them.”
“But not for us.”
“No.” I took a settling breath. “You know I went to see

your folks.”

“They were relocated and—”
“Why wasn‟t I relocated?”
“Well, back then I thought because it would have looked

suspicious,” he answered me. “Now I know because Beck
wanted to keep me in deep cover and not let you near me. He
knew I wanted out. He knew that was going to be my last
job.”

“But you stayed in.”
“Once I thought you didn‟t want me, there was no

reason not to stay. The company was very good to me.”

I nodded. “It‟s all so sad.”
“But it doesn‟t have to be. We can be together now.”
I turned away from him. “But, see, I have this whole life

that you‟re not a part of anymore and—”

“No.” He grabbed my arm and whirled me around. “I‟m

Gracie‟s father; I should be in her life… in yours.”

“Dante, that‟s just not—”

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He yanked me up close to him. “Noah, there‟s no way

I‟m letting you go. Seeing you, seeing her… you‟re kidding,
right? You think I can do that?”

I shook my head. “You‟re no good for us.”
“Oh, baby.” He smiled, tilting my head up, bending to

kiss me. “I‟m the very best thing for you. I‟m supposed to be
your husband. I‟m her Dad. I‟m the one you‟ve both been
missing all this time.”

His lips melted over mine, and his tongue slipping into

my mouth as he wrapped his arms around me felt so good,
so perfect, and so right. I was panting and breathless by the
time he let me go, sliding his suit jacket across my
shoulders.

“C‟mon, baby, let‟s go get Gracie.”
“I—”
“And then we‟ll talk to Keith, okay?”
I felt like I had been run over by a truck. A hot,

gorgeous truck, who apparently loved me and my kid
desperately, but still…. “I should see him alone.”

“No.” He chuckled, lifting my chin. “You will never be

alone again.”

And he kissed me just to make his point.

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Chapter Four

E HELD

my hand through the club, hugged me in the

elevator, kissed me in the lobby, shoved me up against a
wall, and mauled me on the street. My tonsils were checked
in the lobby of the Venetian where I was staying and where
apparently he had moved earlier that day.

“You just changed hotels just like that?”
“Just like that,” he told me, hand around the back of my

neck easing me forward so he could kiss me again.

“That must have cost a small fortune,” I said between

breaths as he sucked on my bottom lip.

“Had to—” He sucked on my tongue, which made my

knees weak. “—be close to you and Grace. Nothing else
matters.”

The war raging inside of me was making my stomach

churn. I wanted Dante so badly, and I felt like crap even
though Keith and I had a wide-open relationship.

“You don‟t like it, your deal with Keith, ‟cause it‟s not

exclusive,” Dante said as he nibbled down the side of my
neck. “I know.”

It was scary that even after almost six years apart, the

man still knew all about me.

“Don‟t worry, I‟m here, and you belong to me, only to

me.”

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I shivered hard and he grabbed me and hugged me

tight.

“Everything‟s gonna be okay.”
I wanted to go back to my room, put on a shirt before I

collected Grace, but Dante was adamant; he wanted her and
me, now.

When I walked in to get my daughter, I was not

surprised that my night owl was awake when all the other
girls had passed out. She was like me, nocturnal, and was
still up watching a movie with Cassidy. When I went to reach
for her, she zipped around me to get to Dante. He went down
on one knee in front of her.

“Hiya, cute stuff.” He grinned at her, pushing her hair

out of her face.

“Hi.” She gave him a big smile. “Are you here for me?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Are you gonna come see my toys?”
“I would love that.”
“Daddy told me your name was Dante.”
“That‟s right.”
“That‟s pretty.”
“Thank you, your name is pretty too.”
She nodded, as was her way, and took his hand. I shook

my head because what the hell? My kid was shy and quiet;
she didn‟t talk to strangers. But I saw her studying him, his
eyes and his hair, and it was obvious she liked what she
saw. Why? He looked like her, was the only one who did, but
could it be that simple?

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While we were riding up the elevator, he leaned in and

kissed my cheek, brushing his nose along my jaw.

“Stop,” I cautioned him, even though my stomach had

done flip-flops.

“Why?” he whispered, and his voice was a deep, sexy

growl as he pressed another to the side of my neck.

“How come you‟re kissing Daddy?” Grace asked him.
I motioned at my kid. “See what you did?”
“I like kissing Daddy,” he told her, squeezing the little

hand that was still in his.

“Me too.” She smiled up at him.
“Daddy smells good too.”
She nodded. “In the morning when I wake up, he smells

like sleep.”

He chuckled. “I can‟t wait to smell Daddy in the

morning.”

“Are you going to kiss Daddy a lot?”
“Yes.”
She thought a minute. “Keith kisses Daddy.”
“Not anymore,” he promised her.
“Because Daddy can‟t kiss Keith and you.”
“That‟s right.”
“I like Keith,” she told him. “But he doesn‟t stay with

us.”

“I will.”
Her eyes lit up. “You will.”
I cleared my throat.
“What?” he asked. “Gracie and I are talking.”

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“Please don‟t promise things that we haven‟t talked

about,” I told him. “Kids don‟t bounce back like adults do.”

“I would never promise anything I couldn‟t or wouldn‟t

or didn‟t want to deliver on.” His gaze swallowed mine. “I
swear.”

“You‟re not listening to me.”
“I heard every word.” He smiled at me and then turned

back to Grace. “You‟re going to like living with me,
sweetheart, I promise.”

Her eyes were on his face, searching, and she nearly

broke my heart when she bit her bottom lip.

“Cross my heart.”
She took a breath and nodded, deciding to trust him.

My eyes flicked to his.

“See.” He smirked at me. “It‟s all settled.”
I elbowed him in the stomach.
“Daddy,” she squeaked out, scolding me, patting Dante‟s

rock-hard abdomen.

He scooped her up, and she giggled as she was lifted

into his arms. She put her hand in his hair and leaned her
forehead against his.

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” he told her.
She nodded and then put her head down on his

shoulder, wrapping her little arms around his neck.

I couldn‟t even breathe. The picture they made together,

her resting on him, peaceful, trusting, and him with his head
leaning against hers, rubbing her back, holding her close. It
was beautiful. And I knew she believed everything he said,
had faith in him because I did. God what was wrong with

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me? I needed some time to think, to process everything. I
had to be alone, just her and me like it had always been, so I
could sift through my feelings and figure out what was for
the best. It was imperative that I weigh it all out. And my
brain was whirling as I slid the keycard into the lock.

I had no idea that the blender that my life was had been

switched to puree.

“Shit!” Keith yelled.
It took a minute for me to see what I thought I was

seeing.

“Outstanding,” Dante announced loudly, happily.
What?
Who?
I stopped, rewound, and replayed it in my head.
When I opened the door, Keith was on the bed, naked,

and an equally naked man was on his knees in front of him
with Keith‟s dick buried in his throat. Now, Keith was
scrambling around the room gathering pants, shoes, socks,
lube, and condoms. The other man—Wes, I thought, pretty
sure it was Wes—one of his buddies, was frantically doing
the same thing.

“Oh my God!” I shouted, finally finding my voice.
“This is so awesome!”
I turned and looked at Dante.
“What?”
I threw up my hands because it should have been fairly

obvious that “awesome” was not the appropriate word
choice.

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Dante‟s smile could not have been any bigger, the

delight on his face was infectious, and he waggled his
eyebrows at me even as his hand was still covering Grace‟s
eyes.

“Dante, I can‟t see.”
“I know, love,” he told her as he cackled, mouthing the

word “awesome” again just in case I had missed it.

“Is Keith here?”
“No,” he told her, winking at me.
“Keith doesn‟t just kiss Daddy.”
“Oh I know, sweetie,” he told her, on the brink of losing

it.

I pointed at the other room and he nodded, his grin

huge and wide and just plain evil. The second he left with my
daughter, I rounded on Keith.

“What the fuck?” I yelled at him.
Hands up, he walked toward me. “Noah, baby, just

listen to—”

“Are you kidding?” I yelled again, pointing at Wes. “Is it

Wes?”

He turned to me, eyes huge.
“Is it?” I barked at him.
“Yeah,” he stammered.
“So how long has this been goin‟ on, Wes?”
“Oh no, Noah, it just—this was just—”
“I‟m asking Wes!” I cut Keith off.
“No, this… I… God.”
“Noah.”

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My head swiveled back to Keith.
“We just—”
“The part I don‟t get is why cheat on me in my own

room? It‟s Vegas, for crissakes! There‟s like fifty billion rooms
on this strip alone! And you knew I was coming back! Did
you wanna get caught? You must‟ve wanted to get—”

“No, I—”
“Were you thinking threesome?” Really it was the only

thing that made sense.

“Noah, you won‟t even have sex with me. You think I‟d

ask you to do a three-way?”

“But then….” I was at a loss. “I just don‟t—”
“I thought you were gonna call me first.”
“Oh.” I nodded, walking backwards. “I was supposed to

call. That‟s right, I was going to warn you that I was coming
back so you could take a shower and get all the spooge off.”

“Noah—”
“Are you kidding me?”
We stood there, the three of us, staring.
“Uhm.” Wes pointed at me. “Where‟s your shirt?”
And it was suddenly pot-to-kettle stupid, and why was I

pissed when I had just done the same thing myself? So
because I was me, I had to think. What was I really mad
about?

“Noah?”
I wasn‟t mad about me; I wasn‟t feeling betrayed. He

could, in fact, screw anyone he wanted, a whole football
team of guys if he felt the urge, because we weren‟t
exclusive, so… what?

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“Noah.”
Why was I mad?
“Noah, goddamnit!”
Grace.
I was upset because her stuff, her things, were in the

next room. Her toys and part of her DVD collection, her
Nintendo DS, and her special fleece blanket were all there.
The hotel room was like a mini version of my home for the
weekend, and he had brought some guy into my house to
fuck. That was the problem. That was where my irritation
and indignation lay.

“Noah!” Keith barked at me, grabbing the lapel of

Dante‟s suit jacket, wrenching it aside so he could see the
side of my neck. “Something you want to tell me?”

Dante was a voracious lover and he always left marks. I

was sure between my swollen lips, messy hair, and
darkening hickeys that Keith could figure out what had
transpired.

I shoved him off me. “Just forget it; this is stupid.”
“You‟re a cheating piece of shit!”
“Hey.” Dante clapped his hands as he walked back into

the room. “No name-calling. Gracie‟s watching Dora?” he
asked me. “She said it was okay, is it okay?”

“That‟s perfect,” I assured him. At least she wouldn‟t

leave the room.

“So are we all done here?”
“You,” Keith snarled at him.
“Oh no.” Dante‟s grin made his eyes sparkle. “Not me,

you. It was all you. And I can‟t thank you enough. I mean,

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this whole thing could have been so fucked up if you were,
like, the perfect guy, you know? I mean Noah would have felt
bad and thrown himself on your mercy, and you could have
actually kept him because he would have worried that he
hurt you and all that shit, but now….” He was so excited.
“Oh God.” His grin was effusive. “Now, we walk in here, and
you‟re getting a blowjob from your buddy; you‟re both naked,
ready to fuck! Oh my God, it‟s like Christmas came early!”

“Can you stop,” I growled at him.
“I‟m just”—he gestured at Keith—“trying to convey my

thanks to the man.”

“Stop.”
“Fine,” he told me, smacking my ass. “Hurry up and get

your stuff. Gracie and I already got all hers packed up.”

“What?” I asked.
“What?” Keith asked.
“Maybe I should just go,” Wes chimed in.
“You,” Dante ordered, pointing at me, “need to pack

because I have a suite that we need to go to.” He turned to
Keith. “You can have this room because I called downstairs
and changed the billing on it; so stay here, go wild, fuck like
bunnies, order room service. It‟s on me; you deserve it.” A
turn of his head and he was looking at Wes. “And you should
take Keith downstairs, play the slots for like a half an hour
while we clear out, and then you can come back up here and
begin the aforementioned bunny fucking.”

“But we—”
“Or”—he gestured toward the bathroom—“you can go

screw in the bathroom. Just wait a sec until Noah grabs his
crap outta there.”

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“I can‟t go to your suite,” I almost whined.
Dante stepped in front of me, taking my face in his

hands. “So you‟re gonna throw Keith out and expect me to
sleep on the sheets that he was gonna fuck this guy on?”

It made me sick to think about. I closed my eyes tight.
“He‟s gonna sleep with you?” Keith sounded stunned.

“What happened to not loving him anymore?”

“He was mistaken,” Dante informed him, and I felt his

breath feather across my face. “Weren‟t you, baby?”

Why when Dante called me baby did it sound right, and

when Keith used the same word it sounded trite?

“I‟m so sorry, Keith.” I released the breath I hadn‟t

realized I‟d been holding, my eyes opening slowly to reveal
the blue-black eyes I used to see only in my dreams. “I‟m a
coward and I don‟t deserve you.”

“Did you want to maybe say that to me?” Keith yelled.
But I could not manage to look away from the man I had

loved since I was twenty-two years old. Who knew at thirty-
one that it would still be all about Dante Cerreto?

“You‟re right,” Dante told me, his thumbs brushing

away the tears under my eyes. “You don‟t deserve Keith.” He
leaned in to kiss my forehead before he turned, dropping his
hands from me. “You deserve me.”

I took a shuddering breath.
“Not that I‟m some great catch.” His grin made his eyes

sparkle. “But I‟m your kid‟s father, and there‟s nobody that
loves you more than me.”

Keith launched himself at Dante at that point, but

unfortunately, his pants weren‟t actually pulled all the way
up and he got tangled up in them. He tripped, hit the edge of

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the mattress, bounced up and sideways, and ended up
crashing to the floor, winded, staring up at the ceiling, half
naked with his flaccid cock flopped out on display.

“Not graceful.” Dante‟s grin had become a monster; he

was having the best time ever.

“Why?” I asked, standing over Keith. “I just need to

know. I mean, this is so out of character for you.”

“Oh fuck you, Noah, I need to get laid.”
All the romance, all the waiting, all of it had been

bullshit.

“I finally realized that you just don‟t like anal. I wish you

would‟ve just come out and told me that because I like it and
I miss it.”

I was flooded with the memory of Dante, just an hour

before, buried to his balls in my ass. My body shivered with
the remembered sensation.

“I mean, maybe no one ever showed you how good it can

be, or, I dunno, but it was fine because I wanted you.” He sat
up. “But I need it every now and then and so I get it.”

I nodded. “So you and Wes, this isn‟t new.”
“With Wes it‟s new,” he told me. “But it doesn‟t matter

because we were never exclusive. You shouldn‟t care where I
put my dick.”

I took a step back into Dante. I hadn‟t realized he was

so close, waiting and ready to take hold of me. I was
instantly wrapped in his arms.

“Love.” His voice rumbled in my ear. “Forget this; it‟s not

worth your time.”

I swallowed hard, feeling my face flush with heat.

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“And we both know he doesn‟t know you at all in or out

of bed.”

And Dante was right; it turned out that Keith didn‟t

know me at all.

“I wanna take you dancing.” He sounded excited, happy,

his mouth behind my ear, sucking on my skin. “I miss doing
that with you.”

I eased away from him, headed for the closet.
“I think if you guys could just step out until we‟re

packed up, that‟d be great.”

“I want to say goodbye to Grace,” Keith told me.
Before I could speak, Dante answered him, his voice

dripping ice. “Don‟t even go near the door.”

“Is that right?”
“Yeah, that‟s right.”
“You know some bullshit secret agent moves where you

can kill me with your pinky or something?”

“No, man, I‟ll just break your goddamn arm if you even

think about going near the fuckin‟ door. Stay clear of my
man and my girl. Understand?”

Apparently he did, because he and Wes were out of the

room in seconds. Keith called me frigid and a cocktease on
the way out, and I thought again how interesting it was that
people could end so badly who had started out so well.

I had my doubts that he and Wes would be back to do

anything but pack. I could not see Keith letting Dante foot
the bill for anything.

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“I‟m a bad person,” I groaned, having changed into a

long-sleeved T-shirt to follow Dante from my room to his
suite.

The bellhop was in front of us with the luggage on a

cart. Dante was carrying a passed-out Grace, and I was
schlepping my overnight bag and Grace‟s Wonder Woman
backpack.

“You‟re not a bad person,” he told me, tipping his head

so I would get in the elevator with the bellhop. “The room
key‟s in my breast pocket.”

I lifted his lapel and pulled out the card and swiped it

on the inside strip by the buttons. Until that moment I
hadn‟t realized that when he mentioned a suite, he meant
that when the elevators swooshed open fifteen floors up from
the twelfth where we had been, that we would be in the
middle of his room.

“Are you kidding,” I groaned.
“Knock it off; tip him.”
I gave the bellhop a twenty, it was late, after all, and

when he left, the weight of my decision hit me hard.

“No, no, no,” he cautioned me. “You don‟t get to fall

apart yet; you gotta look around and tell me where you want
me to put our kid.”

Our kid.
God.
I walked into his bedroom; it was huge, as was the

California king.

“Well?”
“We could call downstairs and have a cot brought up.”

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“Sure.”
“Just put her in the bed for now.”
I watched him put her down. She was the only thing

that made sense at the moment, and so looking away from
her was hard.

“Hey.”
I took a minute, but I finally turned my eyes on him.
“Why don‟t you go take a shower,” he suggested.
“That‟s a great idea. Where‟s the bathroom?”
“Right there,” he pointed.
I headed toward it.
“Noah.”
I stopped and he moved fast in front of me, sliding his

hand around the back of my neck, drawing me close.

“I just want to tell you that I‟m so glad you‟re here.”
“I‟m a little overwhelmed.”
“I know that.” He nodded. “I can tell. I know you.”
He knew me.
I bolted from the room.
My plan was to stand under the water for hours, but I

realized instantly how exhausted I was and so made it a
quick one. I showered and changed into flannel pajama
bottoms and was staggering back into the room when I heard
voices.

“Mother, go back to bed,” Dante growled.
“I see my angel there,” she cooed. “Where is her father?”
“I‟m her father.”
“You gave her life; Noah is her father. Where is he?”

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“In the shower.”
“Without him, even if you see her, you have no family.”
“Mother—”
“He was always so good for you. And I told you so long

ago, yes, that you need to go to him, but your pride, Dante,
your foolish pride. You thought he didn‟t want you and—”

“Yeah I know all this. Just let me—”
“I knew even when you did not that Noah loved you.

Such a good man, and you would be lucky to have his heart
again.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Do not mess up. I want you to have a family. Do

whatever you must but keep them both.”

“That‟s my plan,” he said, his voice strained and shaky.
Her soft sigh made me smile. “Come here. You make me

old before my time but I love you.”

I waited in the alcove between where the sink and toilet

were and the bedroom until she was gone and I heard doors
closing. When I managed to calm my racing heart, I walked
in.

“There you are.”
I pointed at my daughter stretched out on the bed

beside him. “That‟s a habit I‟ve been trying to break her of.”

“But she‟s so cute,” he argued, getting up, walking by

me. “I need to shower too.”

I watched him go and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling

window. The view was amazing, all the lights and the colors.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead on the cool glass. What
was I going to do? I had a life I couldn‟t leave, friends, a

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network for Grace, and taking her from all the people she
loved was crazy.

“What are you thinking about?”
I lifted my head from the window and looked at him,

freshly showered, towel drying his hair, standing there in his
sleep shorts. “Those are cute.”

“Well, normally, as you know, I sleep nude but…” He

gestured at Grace. “I‟m a parent now, so not really an option
anymore.”

I nodded. “Dante, I—”
“The inn is nice, you know,” he told me, tossing his

towel on the closest chair. “You would like it. But I like
California and I‟ve always wanted to open a security
company.”

“Dante, just—”
“I could, you know, provide bodyguards for people, that

sort of thing. Protecting people is something I know a lot
about.”

I cleared my throat. “You don‟t have to decide everything

tonight; it‟s not necessary. I‟ll go home, you‟ll go home, and
you‟ll come see us, visit, and decide if you like it. Grace and I
will come visit you and see how you live. We have time now;
we can make a decision, and if this thing with us works then
we can go forward. If it doesn‟t, it doesn‟t.” I smiled at him.
“We can figure something out so Grace sees you. I always
wanted her to see you and know you.”

His brows furrowed as he nodded. “Look at me.”
“I am looking at you.”
“No, really look at me.”

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I realized that I had been looking everywhere but into

his eyes. If I looked into all that blue, I was done.

“Dante—”
“Look… at me.”
My eyes hit his.
“Two things and only two things are gonna happen here.

I will either move to California, or you and Grace will move to
Maine. That‟s it. If your life is solid and perfect in California,
then I‟m there. If it‟s not, you should check out Maine. It‟s
beautiful and the people in my town are amazing. But that‟s
for you to decide because I don‟t care. I will live wherever you
want. I will do whatever you want. The only thing that‟s
nonnegotiable is that from right this second, I will not spend
another minute away from that cute kid in the bed or you. I
won‟t. I have lived for six years walking around like a fuckin‟
zombie. I go through the motions but I don‟t feel anything.
When I came around the corner today and saw you, I
thought I was gonna throw up.”

I smiled at him. “That was it, huh? First reaction after

six years? You felt like barfing?”

“You know what I mean; everything just hit me at once.”
I did know.
“And I realized that from the last time I saw you in the

baggage claim at LAX to right then, I hadn‟t felt a fuckin‟
thing.”

I bit my lip so I wouldn‟t fall apart.
He closed the distance between us, crowding me,

pushing me back, back, into the wall, a hand on my cheek,
the other over my heart. “I feel like me again. Just touching
your face, I feel like me again. Do you understand?”

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I nodded. “I had Grace.”
“I had nothing.”
“She…. Everything is better with her.”
“I can‟t wait to find out how amazing that will be

because just this, you, in my hands; I swear to God, Noah,
it‟s a fuckin‟ gift.”

I lifted to offer the kiss, and he bent and accepted it. My

hands went to his face and held tight so he couldn‟t move. I
devoured his mouth with abandon, the want surging
through me as the kiss, the endless, urgent, wet kiss
drowned out the entire world. When he lifted just enough to
drag in air, I pulled back to look at him.

Swollen lips, heavy-lidded eyes, hair in wild disarray,

panting, the man was looking slightly ravaged.

“Why‟re you smiling?” he asked me, taking a last

heaving breath in.

“Because if we do anymore of that, we‟re gonna be in

trouble since your folks are in the other room and Gracie‟s in
here.”

His smile was so warm, so full of happiness before he

lunged at me, hugging me so tight, face buried down in my
shoulder.

“I love you so much. I never stopped, not for a second.

God, Noah, please just tell me you‟re gonna stay with me no
matter what. Please, just… please.”

I kissed the side of his neck and then lifted to kiss his

cheek. At six-three he had inches on me, enough so my head
notched against him perfectly. “Next week is Thanksgiving.
Why don‟t you come home with us, take Gracie to school for
three days, and then on Wednesday night, we‟ll fly home

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with you and spend four days in Maine. We can talk, and
you can spend time with Grace. How would that be?”

He squeezed tighter, arm around my back, his hand in

my hair. “Perfect, but just—”

“I love you, Dante.” I chuckled, feeling the relief of

letting the words out of the vault in my chest. “Always have,
always will.”

I thought he might have snapped ribs.
“I can‟t breathe, asshole.”
He kissed my nose and then let me go, smacking my ass

when I turned.

“What was that for?”
He squinted at me. “It‟s not for anything. I just like

smacking your ass, that‟s not new.”

And it wasn‟t, just a forgotten detail.
I grunted, moving around the bed, turning the light

down low, close to off but not quite. “If she wakes up in the
night and it‟s too dark, she‟ll be scared.”

“Of course.” He nodded, watching me as I climbed into

bed, slipping under the covers.

“Cute pajamas, by the way.”
“Shut up.” I yawned.
He was chuckling as he lifted up, leaned over, and

kissed me. “Good night, baby. I‟ll see you in the morning,
and we‟ll tell Gracie the plan, okay?”

“Okay. You know Gracie and I have a wedding to go to

tomorrow.”

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“No, I know, my kid told me when I was in the bedroom

with her.” He arched an eyebrow for me. “Chelsea‟s finally
gettin‟ married huh? Is he loaded?”

“That‟s a terrible thing to ask.”
“Being comfortable was always a priority for her.”
“Nice.”
“Oh, c‟mon, she was my friend once upon a time too,

you know.”

“You could have talked to her a little when you saw her

tonight at the club.”

“It took everything I had to not jump you right there at

the table,” he confessed. “I never could keep my hands off
you.”

I shivered and I saw his eyes narrow and heat.
“Tomorrow….” I cleared my throat. “At the wedding, you

can talk to Chelsea then.”

“So I can be your plus one?”
“Yeah, you‟ll have to watch Gracie though.”
“Oh God, I dunno, that‟s a lot to ask.”
“The sarcasm is not lost on me.”
“No?”
“Listen, I‟m sorry we can‟t just go home with you

straight from here, but Gracie has school on Monday so
checking out the inn will have to wait a few days.”

“It‟s fine. I get to go home with you; I could care less

about the logistics.”

“What about your inn?”

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“That‟s the great part of having people you trust who

work for you. I have an amazing manager as well as a
concierge. They‟ll take care of everything.”

“Is it really in Venice?”
“Yeah.”
“So in Venice, Maine, there is an inn owned and run by

a Cerreto.” I smiled at him. “That sort of makes sense, huh?”

He leaned over and kissed me again. “I think the reason

that you didn‟t sleep with that perfectly good, though
deluded, man, was that you knew he was no good for you.”

“I‟ve got news for you: I‟ve slept with lots of men in the

past six years,” I assured him. Like I‟d been pining for him
the whole time—the very thought was ridiculous.

“Oh yeah? Name ‟em.”
Shit.
He always called me on things; I was never allowed to

just make a random statement. I had forgotten for a moment
who I was talking to.

He was quiet, I was quiet.
“Waiting.” He snickered.
“Just hold on.” That couldn‟t be right. “I‟ve given a lot of

blowjobs,” I boasted, trying to sound like I cared.

“Which thinking about you doing to anyone but me, just

the idea, is making me crazy, but I‟m dealing with it.”

“Dante, come on. I bet you‟ve been with a ton of guys.”
He rolled his head to look at me. “I tried to. I wanted to.

But when I got close, it just didn‟t feel right.”

“You were a big player before I met you.” I chuckled.

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“It‟s true,” he said smugly, grinning wide, “but

somewhere over the course of the four years we were
together, you changed me from a guy who wanted the right
now to a guy who wanted the forever. I wanted you, Noah,
and that‟s it.”

“No wonder you threw me up against a wall.” I laughed

at him, covering my face with a pillow so I wouldn‟t wake up
my daughter.

He rolled over on top of me, straddling my thighs, and I

jolted under him because I was afraid he‟d squash Grace.

But he had moved her, and when I threw the pillow off, I

saw that she was on the other side of the bed, arms over her
head in the wave impression she always slept in.

“What is she doing, the wave?”
It was awesome that he saw that. “Yeah.”
“It‟s cute.”
I nodded as he bent and kissed my right eye.
“We can‟t do anything with our small child in the room,”

I told him.

“Yeah, I know that,” he told me, “and just seeing her

there pretty much steamrolls flat my libido.” He chuckled.
“But I still like having you under me, and for the record: I
threw you up against the wall because I always threw you up
against a wall because you fuckin‟ love it.”

I reached up for him, framing his face in my hands. “I

do love it. You being rough or gentle, either way, any way,
always, you know, I love it.”

He bent and kissed me, and when he lengthened his

body, all six-three, two hundred twenty pounds of rippling
muscle pinning me to the bed, I whimpered out my pleasure.

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When he moved, I rolled to my side and drew his arm around
me.

I felt him twitch against my back. “You okay?”
He didn‟t speak but his face, buried in my hair, one arm

under my head, the other drawing tight around my waist, let
me understand. Going to sleep with me in his arms had been
one of his favorite things in the world; apparently, nothing
had changed.

“I‟m gonna make you and that kid so fuckin‟ happy.”
I knew that.
“And you‟re gonna love Christmas in Maine.”
“We‟ll see where we end up living.”
“Like I said, I could give a shit, just as long as I get to be

with you and my girl.”

“We‟re all yours.”
And I laughed when he rolled me over on my back and

pounced on me. Apparently we were, in fact, going to have to
go lock ourselves in the bathroom.

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Chapter Five

WOKE

up late, which for me was right around eight. Grace

usually had me up, even on weekends, around six thirty.
When I came staggering out of the bedroom, I saw the family.
Everyone was there except me.

“Daddy!”
My girl came running, and I bent and scooped her up,

hugging her tight.

“He‟s my grandpa, did you know that?”
Oh God.
I shot Dante a look.
He smiled back.
“I gotta find my phone, monkey,” I told her.
“Your phone rang this morning, Daddy, and Papa talked

to Aunt Chelsea and Uncle Pete already.”

Papa?
I looked over at Dante.
He looked worried.
“Could you come here, please?”
He put down the newspaper he was reading and rose

from the table. Grace left me and ran over to him, stopping
before she reached him and launching herself through the
air. She was getting bigger, heavier, and not everyone could
handle thirty-five pounds coming at them like a cannonball.
Some people, some men I had dated, didn‟t like it, asked her

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not to do it. But not Dante. His face, the smile, told me he
was enchanted with every little piece of her, even the
projectile part that had the potential to injure him. He
caught her easily, swung her around, and tucked her up
against him as he reached me. Big strong man that he was,
he lifted her easily, and she liked that, I could tell.

“If he‟s Grandpa,” he told me gently, “then I have to be

Papa. It‟s logical.”

“Where‟s my phone?”
“I‟ll get it,” Grace told me.
Dante put her down and she bolted away as he stepped

in front of me, his hand on the side of my neck.

“I didn‟t ask, she just came out with it, and of course I

love it.”

I searched his eyes.
“I‟m not gonna stand here and lie and tell you that I

don‟t want her to love me right this second, because… I want
her to love me right this second.” He smiled at me, his other
hand on my cheek. “But I don‟t want you to worry that I‟m
not gonna be around. Whether you like it or not, I‟m not
going anywhere. If you decide you hate me and don‟t want to
have sex with me in bathrooms anymore”—his grin was
wicked, reminding me of what we had done in cramped
quarters the night before—“you‟re still stuck with me. I will
not disappoint that kid. She‟s gonna hate me when she‟s
sixteen and she wants to date and she‟ll have to be at least a
brown belt before I let her, but other than that she and I are
gonna be best friends. All I ever wanted was to have a baby
with you, you know that. And now I have one, but I missed
five years. You think I‟m gonna miss even one more second?”

Again | Mary Calmes

I nodded. “I don‟t matter. Only she matters.”
He cradled my face in his hands. “I get what you‟re

saying, that when you‟re a parent the kid always comes first.
Okay, agreed, but, baby, you matter to me. I love you both.”

He understood the responsibility that came with a

child‟s heart. I leaned into him and let him tuck me against
his chest.

“Man, Pete is pissed at me.”
I jolted and took a step back so I could look up at him.
He chuckled. “We talked for a bit this morning; he had a

lot to say. I can‟t wait to see him. I think he‟s on his way up
with Rick. I guess they‟re in this hotel too.”

Dear God.
“Oh and I got a nice e-mail back from Sarah.”
“What?”
“I got the address out of your phone and sent her a

note. I wanted to thank her for everything, even though it
was late.”

“Dante—”
“I told her the whole story, and… I forgot how great she

was.” He smiled, turning to return to the table. “You should
eat something before this day gets nuts. Weddings are
tiring.”

I felt like I was back in the blender.
“I told Sarah about the inn. She said she would really

try and make it for Christmas. Her job sounds fascinating,
huh? Forensic anthropologist, like that show Bones.”

“Here, Daddy.” Grace giggled, handing me my phone.

“You look weird. Kinda gray.”

Again | Mary Calmes

I looked down at her.
“But I like gray,” she assured me, smiling, nodding like I

was a simpleton.

“Gray‟s one of her favorite colors,” Dante reminded me.

“Which is lucky because you‟re kind of that color right now.”

Looking at him, his parents, Claudio, all of them

unconcerned, accepting, like all of this, me and Grace there
with them, was totally and completely normal, settled me.
This was what family looked like, and I knew it because
when Grace and I visited my parents, it looked just the
same.

“Pete‟s gonna blow a gasket,” I told Dante.
“He already did.” He smiled, sitting back down at the

table, pulling out a chair for me beside him. “But that‟s okay;
when I explain it all to him, he‟ll get it; he always kind of had
a thing for me, anyway.”

“Really?”
He nodded, the wicked grin back in place. “Come here.”
I walked over and sat down and got a kiss on the cheek

as he poured me some coffee. Grace, without asking, crawled
into his lap and started buttering toast.

“This is for you, Dad,” she explained to me. “You never

eat breakfast.”

“And it‟s the most important meal of the day,” Dante

told her, supervising the use of the butter knife. “Nice
smearing.”

She nodded, tipped her head back, and kissed him

under the chin.

“God.” I couldn‟t help choking up. “She‟s crazy about

you.”

Again | Mary Calmes

“‟Course.” He leaned sideways to kiss my temple. “She

knows I‟m crazy about her—and her Dad.”

And he was.
“That‟s all that really matters.”
So true.

* * *

About the Author

ARY

ALMES

currently lives in Honolulu, Hawaii, with her

husband and two children and hopes to eventually move off
the rock to a place where her children can experience fall
and even winter. She graduated from the University of the
Pacific (ironic) in Stockton, California, with a bachelor‟s
degree in English literature. Due to the fact that it is English
lit and not English grammar, do not ask her to point out a
clause for you, as it will so not happen. She loves writing,
becoming immersed in the process, and falling into the work.
She can even tell you what her characters smell like. She
works at a copy store but has been unable to incorporate
that into a book... yet. She also buys way too many books on
Amazon.

Also by

ARY

ALMES

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Reese Dante

http://www.reesedante.com

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
July 2011

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-055-4

Document Outline

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About the Author
Also by Mary Calmes
Copyright

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