After a tragedy, Amila Johnson abandons her life in New York and retreats back to her birthplace of Houston. She tries to start anew but she can't get far with the skills of being an almost classically trained ballerina.
Deciding to take up her fri...
"Need some help?" Amila strolled into the kitchen with a glass in each hand.
Dominic turned away from the sink, his hands still emerged in the soapy water with his sleeves rolled up and an apron on. The countertop to the left of his was covered with dirty dishes nicely stacked and the countertop to the right of him sat utensils drip drying.
"He beat you didn't he." He smirked, watching her add the used glasses to the other dishes in need of cleaning.
She rolled her eyes. "You didn't tell me your dad was a Spade's pro." She grabbed a towel and sidled next to the countertop with the clean dishes deciding with utensil she was going to dry first. "He annihilated me in five minutes."
She tried to pout but the quick defeat didn't leave her with disdain. She was overflowing with happiness and contentment. The day had played out like a storybook where maidens had magical godmothers and went to balls. The house they resided in was most definitely a smaller version of a castle that was in the English countryside and the food Valentina cooked filled her stomach and pleased her soul. The game of spades after football went off was just icing on what was the definition of a perfect day. And now that the sun was down and the cloudy sky had become speckled with stars she hoped the wonderment would continue.
"You're just rusty," Dominic said, plucking plates off the stack and plunging them in the warm water. "He plays Spades every weekend with Lewis and 'em. We don't."
She nodded not being able to remember the last time she played the card game. If she thought hard enough it would probably take her back to a moment in her childhood. A moment she didn't want to go back to; that would only take her to a place she didn't want to be. She felt too good to mess it up by prying open the door to the past and the only tears she wanted to shed tonight were happy ones.
"Thanks for inviting me." She said, breaking the brief moment of silence that fell between.
It was a moment she really didn't want to disturb. The quiet moments between them weren't at all awkward as she first thought they'd be. They were comforting and pleasing to her soul. There was an energy that wafted between them that recharged her emotional battery and made her feel serene.
"No thanks required." He easily assured, running a plate under the hot running water. "You're my girlfriend." He winked, handing her the plate.
The playful wink and the facetious way he said 'girlfriend' chip a portion of her happiness away and left a sting of pain in its way. She didn't know what was going on with her. Did she actually want to be his girlfriend? No, that couldn't be it. She wasn't ready to be anyone's partner. Nope. Not until she had her life in order; knew what she was going to do for a living and could provide for herself without needing the help of the billionaire next to her.
You have the money. Stop being a coward and use it. They'd want you to. That's what it was there for.
Her conscious spoke as she neatly placed the utensils back into the drawer. The seven-figure amount sprung to her mind. Deja and Deja's immediate family were the only ones that knew she wasn't actually broke. She had money; money that sat her savings account. Money that she never touched. Money was awarded to her because she was the only living beneficiary. She never really thought about those funds and she didn't know why her mind went there.
"Your family is..." She couldn't think of a word that could sum them up entirely as she leaned against the counter watching him wash a casserole dish. "I like them."
"And they like you." He laughed to himself, letting the dish sink back into the sudsy water to look at her. "I think they almost like you more than me. I mean...did they even notice I was gone."
Amila chuckled. "I'm sure that's not the case. You're mom definitely noticed."
Dominic tsked just has the little girl that had become Amila's best friend, a title she dubbed herself with, skipped into the kitchen.
Candace stopped in front of Amila and beamed her big, brown eyes up at her. "It's my bedtime." She lunged into Amila, wrapping her skinny arms around her waist. "Goodnight."
Amila hugged the girl back being flooded with warmth.
"See you in the morning." Candace sprung from Amila then darted out the kitchen from the call of her name from another room.
"See," Dominic pointed to the now empty doorway. "I didn't get a hug. Not even a damn goodnight."
Amila giggled. "I'll give you a hug." She stepped into his space and linked her hands loosely around his neck. "And a goodnight..." She pecked his plump lips. "...that'll keep you up all night."
His hands moved frantically wanting to rest around her waist but were covered in soap. "I thought you said no sex."
"Who said anything about sex?" She smirked, with a shake of her head. "I was referring to good conversation while trying out that PS5 in the game room."
"You play too much." He told with humor painting his face. "But I like those plans, too."
His eyes lowered to her glossy lips. He dipped down. His lips sent an invigorating shot of electricity through her, that heated her body and buzzed up her spine setting her mind ablaze. He didn't have to ask for entry. She let his tongue slip into her mouth. Getting her sweater wet was no longer a concern of his as he gripped her waist and pulled her against his body. Her hand went to the back of his neck holding him firmly in place while her other hand gripped his bicep trying to hold him back and create some distance. Her appendages were torn between the dual needs and wants conflicted her mind.
Dominic pulled back, breaking the connection of their mouths but holding her gaze. Their need for oxygen won out.
"Are you sure PS5 is all you want?" He breathed out. "Because the shower can drown out moans."
Her chest rose high and fell with every inhalation. Her mind was a fog brimming with emotions that canceled the noise. Her eyes were locked to his as her hands rested on his chest. Her lips parted and the words that came out drained his face of all the lust and warmth.
"Who's Jade?" She asked.
He stepped back, with a scowl replacing his flirtatious smirk. "Why would you ask me that. Fuck!"
Dominic rushed to the doorway and she grabbed his arm, halting his gait before he could exit.
"Talk to me." She pleaded once he turned back to her. "Please."
Where do you think Dominic was storming off to?
Why do you think Amila asked Dominic about Jade after their kiss?
Do you think he will talk to her?
Why do you think Amila is thinking about the insurance money in her savings account?
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