"Then you'll eat lasagna." He shot her a grin and reached farther up her thigh to stroke a finger through her folds. Did that mean he intended to torture her if she ate something else? Or was he teasing?
She didn't want to find out. Though she would never admit out loud that Chicken Marsala was her favorite.
Thirty minutes later, as the food arrived, Brett reached across the table to refill Lily's glass.
She lurched to stop him by covering the top with her hand. "That's enough for me. Thanks. I'm driving."
Zia didn't move a muscle from her position facing her in-laws, but she did lift the eyebrow closest to Lily. Yep. It was going to take a lot of explaining to fill in the details for this evening. Another day.
The food was delicious, and shockingly she was able to eat. Dominic even lifted his hand from her thigh for about fifteen minutes, making it possible to swallow.
As she pushed her plate a few inches away from the edge of the table, her phone buzzed in her purse where it hung off the chair on the side farthest from Dominic.
She glanced at her watch. It was eleven o'clock. Who would be texting her? The only thought she had was a work emergency. Sometimes the alarm went off needlessly, and the police would call. She hoped she didn't have to race across town at this hour and meet the cops at her gallery for a false alarm.
She reached into the outer pocket of her purse and tipped the phone slightly toward her to discreetly check the message without being rude.
It was her damn ex-boyfriend, Luke. She wanted to punch him when she saw his name across the top.
But the words on the screen made her nearly pee herself. She froze, blinking in the hope she'd misread the text.
Luke: Who the fuck are you out to dinner with, Lily? And what kind of whore pulls over to fuck in a church parking lot before eating?
If the phone hadn't been halfway inside her purse, she would have dropped it on the floor. Instead it buzzed again, almost making her jump out of her skin.
A picture filled the screen.
This time, her heart did stop.
Somehow he'd taken a photo of her on Dominic's lap inside her car, obviously fucking him. It didn't matter that he'd never penetrated her. That was what the picture clearly showed. The rapture on her face was unmistakable.
Another picture came in right behind the first from a different angle. It showed the same rapt expression on Dominic's face. There was no mistaking either of their identities.
Another text. It all happened so fast, she doubted anyone realized she had gotten a text yet.
Luke: You don't need to answer that first question. I did my research. Dominic Cordes. Pitcher for Miami. Unless you want these photos plastered all over the web in the next hour, you'll extract yourself from his clutches and go home. Your gallery will be toast otherwise, and his career will go in the shitter.
Luke: You're mine. You haven't grasped that fully lately. But it's time I made myself clear. You need more time. Fine. Have it. But in the meantime, you won't date other men. And I don't ever want to see you fucking one again. You haven't seen the full extent of my rage.
That was it. The texts stopped coming in.
She dropped the phone back in her purse, shaking.
"You okay?" Dominic asked, leaning across her.
She knew he hadn't seen the texts, or he wouldn't be so calm.
Lily shoved back from the table and stood. "I have to go. I'm so sorry." She directed her statement toward Zia and Brett. She nodded at his parents also. "Work emergency. The damn alarm went off again. I'll see you tomorrow?"
Zia stood also. Her face was scrunched in disbelief. "Okay. You're sure you're okay?"
"Yes, of course." Lily waved her off, grabbing her purse and angling to round the table in the opposite direction of Dominic. She didn't meet his gaze. If she had, she knew she would find him confused and perhaps furious. Or concerned. Or … she didn't know what she might see in his expression, but she didn't have the luxury of finding out. She had to get out of there fast. It was in both their best interests. She would figure out later what to do next.
For now, she had to race to her car.
"I'll go with you. It's late. You shouldn't be heading to the gallery alone at this hour," Dominic stated.
This forced her to turn toward him. Already she was out of the corner and moving toward the door. "No. Stay. Enjoy the rest of the evening. I'll see you tomorrow." She turned and nearly ran from the restaurant.
She bolted out the front door, holding back the urge to vomit, and raced for her car. As soon as she was inside, she started the engine and pulled out of the spot without glancing back. The first thing she needed to do was get away from Dominic before he followed her and jeopardized both their careers.