Monster(49)

“She was a good listener.” Lowering herself to her knees, Eden rested her bouquet next to the one already there. “Always gave good advice, not that I ever took it.” She smiled tremulously, the dull ache of her mother’s absence making itself known. “But she was a really good mom. She always made sure I had enough.”

“You miss her.”

Eden came to her feet, standing once again next to him she blinked away the tears that refused to ebb. “A lot,” she choked.

There was nothing for a long moment after but the sound of chirping birds and a breeze rustling quietly through the trees. And then she felt it. The ghost of his touch whispering on the back of her hand before interlacing their fingers, his large hand nearly engulfing hers. “I’m sorry she was taken from you.” The sincerity of his words went a long way in soothing the ache, and in that instant, Eden was glad that he was there with her.



“I would like to take you out later this evening, if you are willing?”

Eden could tell that it was hard for him to ask rather than tell her and although it was weird for her too, she found herself pleasantly surprised by his awkward attempt. “Where to?”

“I’d like it to be a surprise.”

Eden gave him a sidelong glance, wondering what he was up to. Any attempt at gleaning that information from his impassive features proved futile. The man could give a statue a run for its money.

She thought about it long and hard and “no” flirted on her tongue but, “okay,” came out instead. Her signals were all crossed, and she knew she was sending out all the wrong ones, maybe even leading him on a little, but a very large part of her was liking this gentler side of Dominic, even if he was a consummate control freak.

“I didn’t need your help finding a real estate job, Dominic, especially with a prominent brokerage like Archer Realty,” she stated sharply.

“I did nothing but point them in your direction. If you received the job it was strictly on your own merits,” he retorted laconically, his logic grating. Eden hated that he made her feel ungrateful and she hated even more the embarrassed flush that swept her cheeks at his silent admonishment.

“This intervening in my life thing you do…it has to stop,” she said after a moment, sweeping her hair behind her ear.

“It’s a habit I’m too old to break. Old dog, new tricks and the like,” he imparted with infuriating calm.

Eden sighed in exasperation and pulled her car door open with far more force than she intended. “I’ll see you home,” she said curtly, slamming the door with the same vigor, stepping on the gas, and taking off without a second glance back.



“He’s trying really hard to get back in your good graces, Ede,” Jenna intoned from Eden’s bed, flipping through the magazine without much care to what was inside. “I bet your letting him hit it again.”

Eden blushed down to her roots and focused a little too closely on her reflection. “Shut up, Jen.”

Jenna laughed. “Fucking knew it. But I don’t blame you. I don’t’ know how you lasted this long, the man has been practically eye fucking you since you moved back here.”

“What do you think about this one?” Eden asked, turning so Jenna could look at the dress.

The blond woman scrunched her nose in distaste. “Are you going to church?”

Eden sighed and rolled her eyes, tugging the dress over her head and tossing it on the pile of rejected clothes on the floor. “At this point I’d be better off going naked.”

“Something I’m sure Dominic would not mind. How about the nude bandage dress?”

“You don’t think it’s too much?”

Jenna snorted. “Better than the granny dress.”

The bandage dress fit her like a second skin; it was unforgiving in displaying every unflattering flaw of a woman’s body, right down to the awkward stomach pooch. But luckily for Eden, it simply accentuated the litheness of her body, giving her curves where there was little. It made her ass look amazing. “So where’s he taking you.”

Eden was about to shrug but thought better of it as Jenna brought the curling iron to her hair. “I don’t know. He wanted it to be a surprise I guess.”

“He sure knows how to make a girl feel special, though.” She sighed wistfully, meeting Eden’s gaze in the mirror. “He’s trying really hard.”

“I know and that’s what makes this so confusing and frustrating. He wasn’t like this before—the wining and dining, and being kind and gentle—that’s not the Dominic I know.”

“Maybe that wasn’t the real him. Maybe he had reasons for being a prick. I don’t know what went on in your marriage, Eden, and I can’t speak for him because I don’t know him, but I think he’s trying to show you that he cares about you. People can change.”

“Not that quickly. I’m not trying to be a bitch. I just want to protect myself. You don’t know how easily he can hurt me.”

“I know, trust me, Eden, I know. But you can’t let fear of heartbreak keep you from something that might be really good. I’m not saying you have to proclaim your undying love, but maybe you both deserve another chance at this?”

What she said made sense. But saying things was far easier than actually carrying them out. Eden wasn’t ready to walk the talk, not by a long shot. “I don’t know, we’ll see.” It was all she could manage. Time would tell. It had certainly healed over some wounds, but there were others that could not be so easily mended.



She never ceased to take his breath away or make his cock stir, and it took incredible restraint to keep himself from hauling her back up to their bedroom to see exactly how much of that dress was painted on her Venus body. Dinner was at Dulce, Franklin’s restaurant, and Eden found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on her meal with his smoldering gaze heating her skin. She might as well have been naked with the way he was eye fucking her.

“Stop it.” she gritted through clenched teeth, staring at him pointedly across the dimly lit table.

“Stop what?”

“You’re staring.”

He angled a brow. “Am I?”

“You know you are, and I want you to stop.”

When he ran the tip of his tongue across his full lower lip, Eden’s pussy clenched reflexively, dampening her thong instantly. “Do you?”

“Dominic.”

“Should I tell you what I’m thinking about?” he queried, his voice deep and dark and everything sinful, rousing Eden’s passion. The wicked gleam in his hooded green eyes did not bode well for her at all.

“No,” she said curtly. She didn’t want to know. And she lied to herself so prettily.

His chuckle indicated that he knew it, too. She didn’t even remember what she had for dinner or dessert, all that consumed Eden was Dominic’s intrusive stare and how wet it made her.

“I wanted to spread you on that table, hike your dress up, slip between your panties, and have you for my dinner,” he murmured huskily in her ear before helping her inside the passenger seat.

It was mean of him to say that to her knowing she couldn’t do anything about it. Frustration kept her silent and kept her legs clenched together, hating how embarrassingly wet she was. She fumed all the way up until the moment she saw where he’d taken her, and her anger burned away, the ashes blowing away like plumes of smoke against the dark night sky.

Eden instantly recognized the club, and as though plucked from her memories, it appeared utterly unchanged. She’d been nineteen the last time she’d come to Better Blues. Halting at the threshold, Eden stared at Dominic bemusedly as he held the door for her. She struggled to find words, but they failed her, so she simply shook her head and walked inside.

Everything was the same, from the lazily strung white Christmas lights adorning the low ceiling, to the distinct scent of pot laced patchouli that hung over the dense crowd. The seating was minimal, the prime real estate being the ten small tables with mismatched chairs at the center of the room, which were all occupied. But as luck would have it, a couple abandoned their seats in the far left corner of the room and they were close enough to nab it before anyone else could. Eden looked around her surroundings as memories flooded back.

For a good year of her life, this place had been her escape, her haven when she’d needed a break from life at home, school, and the constant worrying about money. Every Thursday, sitting in these worn, wooden chairs with the scent of patchouli laden in the air, open mic night had ushered in poets who’d shared a piece of themselves and singers who’d awaken the music in Eden. Until one evening she’d finally scrounged up the nerve to expose herself, expose her voice. It had been one the most frightening and exhilarating experiences of her life, and when she’d finished, the thunderous applause had fed her soul. Singing had been fun back then, freeing, and it had been sheer bliss when her mother had attended. However rare her appearances had been, Eden had delighted in the short three minutes when her mother had heard her sing. She’d been Eden’s biggest fan, hell, her only fan.

The regulars of Better Blues milled around the room, varying in looks and undoubtedly from all walks of life, but they all had one thing in common, they all came here to feast on beautifully laced words and drink lyrics that flowed from an endless tap. This was where Dominic took Eden, to this mecca of creativity that had been an integral part of her last year of true happiness, before everything had gone to shit. He should not have known this part of her. This intimate, private part of her that she’d never shared with anyone. And what’s more was she hadn’t realized how much she’d craved this until now. She wanted to turn and ask him questions, questions to answers that only he could provide, but words deserted her as the feminine voice from the makeshift stage had her turning instead. She was backed by only an acoustic guitar; she sang the blues like she was born to do it, with a breathy intonation that provoked goose bumps on Eden’s skin. Shutting down all thoughts, Eden allowed herself to be swept away, and when the woman finally whispered the last heartrending lyric, stretching out the note so that everyone felt the word, Eden was sure that she cheered the loudest.