Dominick Read online

It took Tattoo’s friends a second to snap out of their shock and attack. With one arm around Tattoo’s neck, Dom used his other hand to catch a flying fist. He squeezed it, and the guy screamed as something cracked. The third fellow kicked him.

  In the shin.

  “Ow?” Dominick mocked with an arched brow. He tossed Tattoo at the kicker, and they both went stumbling and fell to the ground.

  Dominick turned around to the crunched-fist fellow and said, “You done?”

  Apparently, all three of them were because they picked themselves off the pavement and took off running.

  Turning to Anika, Dominick expected gratitude. Some admiration maybe. Perhaps a softening toward him—finally.

  But no.

  She glared with lips pressed tight. “What the hell was that macho bullshit about?”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I had the situation under control.”

  That brought a disparaging noise to his lips. “How do you figure that? Can you not count? Because I did. It was three against you.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “Can you?” For some reason, her stubborn refusal to be gracious annoyed him. He invaded her space, and while most women shied away when he loomed, Anika tilted her chin to look him in the eye.

  “I don’t need you playing savior.”

  “Would it kill you to say thank you?”

  “Thank you.”

  It sounded about as sincere as his apology that afternoon. For some reason, he sighed. “Why is it that, when I’m around you, I never say the right thing?”

  “Because you’re an ass?” she offered.

  “Not usually.”

  “Meaning there must be something wrong with me.” She snorted. “Your ego is so huge I’m surprised you can carry it around.”

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  He laughed, the sound holding a hint of ruefulness. “Yeah, you do.”

  “Guess you’re not my cup of tea.” One of the most annoying expressions of this decade, and she used it on him.

  It could mean only one thing. His lips rounded as he exhaled. “You’re a lesbian.”

  He never saw the fist that knocked him flat.

  4

  “Fuck me! You broke my nose.” He moaned.

  Anika didn’t feel bad about it at all, even as she couldn’t believe she’d landed it.

  She didn’t apologize.

  As Dominick lay on the ground blinking, his nose bleeding, she stood over him and snapped, “I don’t like you because you’re an arrogant ass. And for your information, I like men. Nice men. Not jerks who think they’re God’s gift to women.”

  With that, she stepped over him and got into her car. She began driving away, only to pass him, walking diagonally across the lot with his hand still held over his nose. She turned onto the road and kept seeing him, moving on foot, bleeding.

  Fuck.

  Fuck a duck.

  Fuck!

  She turned around and pulled up beside him before rolling down the window. “You going to be okay?”

  “Eventually.”

  Not usually a violent person, and very Canadian, she couldn’t help but say, “I’m sorry I broke your nose.”

  “No, you’re not.” To her surprise, the statement emerged thickly but not angrily. Dominick’s wry expression met hers as he ducked to peer inside the car.

  “Okay, I’m not sorry. You asked for it. Seriously, who the fuck calls someone a lesbian just because she’s not interested?”

  “An asshole. I’m sorry. Guess I lost my manners while in the bush.” He still had a liquid rattle to his words.

  “Where’s your car? Can you drive?”

  “No car. I was jogging.”

  “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  He snorted and winced. “No hospital. But I would take a ride home.”

  “Where do you live?”

  As he named the road, her brows lifted. He lived more than ten kilometers from the store. “That seems like a long jog,” she stated as she sped up to make a light.

  “Not really. I usually run farther.”

  “Every day?”

  “Whenever I can since I came home. Mom says I’ve got too much energy from boredom.”

  “Must be nice to have the time,” she muttered.

  He heard. “I’m not used to it. In the military, when I wasn’t prepping for an exercise, I was on a mission or being debriefed. My days had structure.”

  “And you liked that?” She wrinkled her nose. She’d hate to have someone telling her what to do.

  “It’s easy to follow orders.”

  “I’m sure wherever you end up working, you’ll have plenty to keep you happy.” She couldn’t have said why she was being nice. He didn’t deserve it.

  He was a veteran.

  Dammit. She didn’t want to cut him any slack, but she did have to recognize that he’d been living a vastly different life than she had for a while now. A rougher existence. But that didn’t mean she’d give him a free pass.

  “Guess now that my career is over, I need to figure out my next job.” Said flatly.

  “Do you want one?” she asked. “I mean, I kind of assumed.” Perhaps he couldn’t work. She didn’t know if he’d left the service for medical reasons. She’d hate to think that he was just lazy and wanted to live off the government’s tit.

  “Of course, I want to work!” he burst out. “But I have no skills outside the military. I feel so fucking useless. And now I sound like a pussy for admitting it. Jesus. Why can’t I stop running my mouth around you?” He looked out the side window as she turned onto the road for his house.

  “Have you talked to someone about how you’ve been feeling since you retired?”

  “I do not want a head shrink,” he growled, the vowels low and rumbly.

  “Well, excuse me,” she said with exaggerated annoyance. “Didn’t realize it was so fucking shameful.” She’d seen one for a while after the divorce until she discovered CBD oil. Bye-bye stress.

  “It’s just…a shrink can’t fix what’s wrong with me because it’s not only in my head.”

  “Are you injured?” she asked.

  “Not exactly. There’s something wrong inside, and they can’t find it.”

  “Don’t give up,” she advised as she turned into a driveway that led to a farm of all places. The massive gravel lane was a few hundred yards long and opened into a massive space in front of a white plank farmhouse, the kind that had been built onto over the years and had odd angles to it, along with a wraparound porch.

  As she pulled up, Dominick muttered, “Thanks.”

  “I hope you get your shit together,” she offered.

  “Me, too.” He offered her a wry grin, the first she’d seen from him, and the transformation hit her in the gut.

  “Do you need any help getting inside?” she asked as he pulled on the handle to open the door.

  He laughed. “No. I’m emasculated enough imagining the mockery my brothers will throw my way when they find out you decked me.”

  “You’re not going to lie and say it was that gang?”

  “Family doesn’t lie to one another. And they also never let you live shit down.” With a long-suffering sigh, Dominick got out of the car. Someone leaning against a post pushed away and drawled, “What the fuck happened to you?”

  “She did.” Dominick pointed right at her.

  “You got decked by a girl?” The laughter proved boisterous enough that it drew an older woman outside. She clutched a cane as she emerged onto the porch.

  “Dommy! What happened to your face?”

  “It’s okay, Mom. Just being taught some manners.”

  “By who?” his mom huffed.

  Time to leave. Only he’d yet to close the passenger-side door. Anika leaned over to grab the armrest but lacked the arm length to reach.

  “Hey. Mind closing the door?” Anika whisper-shouted to him.
r />   Before he could move, his mom yelled, “Have you said thank you for the ride home?”

  Dominick’s gaze met hers, flaring for a second before his eyelids partially lowered. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Invite them in.”

  “I don’t think Anika wants to stay.”

  “You haven’t even asked.”

  The argument made her think of a horror movie.

  I’m that stupid girl.

  Only in that second did it occur to her that she might have made a mistake coming to his place. She’d thought only of doing the right thing. Yet she’d taken a rude and angry ex-soldier alone in her car to a remote location.

  She should have texted someone. Taken a picture of him. Something. What if his family were cannibals?

  “Mom, she doesn’t want to stay. Who do you think hit me?”

  Dominick slammed the door shut, and she let out a breath as she sat up and put her foot on the brake. She shifted and went to hit the gas, only to notice a young woman standing in front of the car, her purple hair cut in a short shag. She glared at Anika, arms crossed over her chest. Obviously, not letting her leave.

  Finally, recovering her wits, Anika pulled out her phone and did a direct picture posted to social media, tagging her location. If she disappeared, they’d know where to start looking.

  Then Anika got out of the car. “Is there a reason you’re not letting me leave?”

  “You hit my brother.”

  “He deserved it.” The truth.

  The girl snapped. “He’s a veteran. Who’s been through enough.”

  “He was an ass who should have walked home. But I was being nice.”

  “Leave her alone.” All eyes flicked to Dominick, who shifted uncomfortably. “Um. Er. It was just a misunderstanding.”

  As he hemmed and hawed, Anika couldn’t stand it.

  She jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you dare try and minimize what you did. He called me a lesbian because I wouldn’t drop my panties for him. So, I hit him.”

  If she’d expected his family to be pissed, she was wrong. The bearded guy on the porch laughed, while the purple-haired girl nodded. “Good for you. I’d have flattened him, too.”

  Whereas the old lady eyed her up and down and said, “Do you like cookies?”

  Before Anika could reply, the purple-haired girl did. “You’ll regret it if you say no. Nana Hubbard is the best cook you’ll ever meet.”

  “I can’t. I should get home.”

  “Husband? Children? Pet?” Mrs. Hubbard fired questions at her.

  “None of the above. It’s been a long day. I worked a twelve-hour shift.”

  Mrs. Hubbard’s expression brightened. “A hardworking girl like you needs food. Come. I have something.”

  Dominick appeared surprised, which didn’t alleviate her discomfort. “I shouldn’t.”

  It was the purple-haired girl who said it aloud. “I swear, we’re not planning to dismember and freeze you for food or turn you into a broodmare to form a hillbilly army.”

  Way to read her mind. “Isn’t that exactly what a murdering hillbilly daughter would say?” She’d yet to close her car door. She could still jump in and run people over.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. She wants to go. Let her go. I can’t believe you want to feed her. I’m the injured party here,” Dominick pouted.

  “You disrespected her,” Mrs. Hubbard chided, and he hung his head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. She’s the one who needs it.” His mom pointed at Anika.

  Anika lifted her hands. “It’s fine. Whatever. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”

  “I can’t believe a son of mine would act in such a manner,” Mrs. Hubbard declared, and he shrank even further.

  Anika almost felt sorry for him. “The military changes people, I hear.”

  His mom snorted. “You’re being too polite. Which is why I won’t take no for an answer. You’re coming in for a snack.”

  The woman insisted, and Anika knew she shouldn’t, yet her feet, driven by curiosity, moved.

  “Let her go home. She doesn’t want to be here,” Dominick protested.

  “The girl needs food, and I need someone to do the dishes.”

  “You have a dishwasher,” he pointed out.

  “Not good enough. I want hand-washed dishes. Hand-dried, too,” Nana declared as she marched into the house.

  “Ignore them. I’m Maeve.” Anika found herself led to the porch steps by the purple-haired girl, who linked her arm with Anika’s.

  Anika hesitated near the first step.

  “It’s okay. You won’t die. Promise.” Maeve propelled her forward. “Welcome to the insanity. As I said, I’m Maeve, Dom’s sister. You met Mom—Nana—and the guy sucking back cancer is my other brother, Stefan. And you are?”

  Seriously confused.

  5

  Holy fucking mess. And Dominick wasn’t talking about his nose.

  His emotions seesawed. Pissed. Incredulous. Hurt. Horny. And all of them because of Anika, who was now in his house, which meant cookies or cake. Maybe even Mom’s special hot cocoa.

  The thoughts of a yummy snack drowned out the warning bells until too late. By the time the door slammed shut, and Anika was sitting on a kitchen stool, he’d missed his window to send her on her way.

  Panic stilled his heart as his mom, a determined look in place, set to work on Anika.

  “What’s your name?” Mom asked as she slid a plate in front of Anika, the surface covered with thin slices of roast beef, a chunk of ham, cherry tomatoes, and cheese.

  “Anika.”

  Looked yummy. When he would have joined them, his mother shot him a look. “Clean yourself up first. This is not a boxing ring.”

  He did the fastest face wash and shirt change ever and, in less than a minute, pounded back down the stairs, only to run into his brother Stefan at the bottom.

  Stefan hung onto the newel as he drawled, “When do you want lessons on what not to say to a woman?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Don’t get pissy with me. I’m not the one calling women lesbians because they don’t like my caveman tactics.”

  “Again, fuck off.” Dominick didn’t need his suave brother rubbing his face in his failure. He’d not spent most of his adult life chasing skirts like Stefan had. He’d been serving his country. He didn’t have time to flirt and charm. Sex was mostly about filling a need, and those kinds of women didn’t expect or need sweet talk.

  “You get better results if you fuck on,” was the teasing reply, “but that will only happen if you learn to control your temper, brother. You are like a powder keg, always ready to go off.”

  He felt it, too. Even now, the rage bubbled, as did a pacing anxiousness to get back to Anika. What had his mom said to her by now? What was she eating? Would she share?

  “I don’t need your advice.”

  “If you say so, bro. But if you change your mind, you know my address.”

  His Casanova brother had a condo in downtown Ottawa, but he visited the farmhouse regularly.

  Dominick paced past him, heading for the kitchen in time to see Anika’s face as she took her first bite of Mom’s famous flaky pastry filled with a homemade cherry jam and fresh whipped cream.

  Pure rapture filled Anika’s expression. He stumbled to a halt and stared as she chewed with obvious enjoyment. Then licked her lips. Missed a crumb that looked delicious—

  His mom hip-checked him as she moved past, still talking to Anika. “Tell me, Anika, where do you live?”

  “Beckwith.”

  “But you work at…” His mom had a way of interrogating that got results.

  “The Food Basics in Richmond.” A recent build that hadn’t existed the last time he’d spent a few weeks at home.

  “You have family in the area?”

  Anika shook her head. “My parents are alive, but I don’t see them often since they moved to Florida. When they�
��re not down there, they tend to go stay with my sister in BC.”

  “What’s wrong with visiting you here?” Dominick asked, breaking the repartee and drawing her gaze.

  She rolled her shoulders. “Shittier weather, a pullout couch, one bathroom, and the fact I am a disappointment to them.”

  “Assholes,” he said vehemently.

  Anika’s lips quirked. “Yes, they are. Which is why it’s not a big loss.”

  “Fuck ’em.”

  Mom smacked Dominick. “Be nice. Or she has my permission to hit you again.”

  “Ouch. Fine. I’ll behave.” He cowered, mostly because he caught Anika trying to hide a smile.

  It was the first one he’d managed to coax. He preferred it to her scowl.

  His mom bustled off, and with her back to him while at the stove, he leaned close and whispered to Anika, “Can I have a bite?” He’d noticed not one, not two, but three dessert treats on her plate.

  She eyed the pastry in her hand and then him before uttering a pert, “Nope.” Then she ate the whole thing, her expression dancing with mirth as he groaned in disappointment.

  His mom caught it as she turned around. “Don’t you be stealing her treats. You’ve been a naughty boy.”

  “You got told.” Anika snickered.

  Way to emasculate him further.

  “Did you at least tell Mom how I saved you from a gang of thugs?” He tried to redeem himself.

  “I would have handled it.”

  “There were three of them.” He pointed out the math.

  “Who turned out to be cowards. Usually, once you take out the ringleader, the others lose interest.”

  “Got a lot of experience taking down gangs?” he drawled.

  “I work late a few days a week. Do you think this is the first time I’ve had a problem?” She arched a brow.

  The very idea that she’d had to defend herself before didn’t sit well.

  “You should find a safer place to work then. Or demand day shifts.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, because I work nights at the grocery store because it’s my dream. Some of us have to do whatever it takes to pay the bills. We don’t get to dictate terms.”

  “You should have someone walk you to your car, then.”

  “I don’t need a man to protect me,” was her icy reply.