own.
She sat her beer down on the table to reach for the door and caught a glimpse of Dominic out of her peripheral vision snatching the bottle back up. She turned toward him just in time to watch him put the bottle to his lips and take a drink before tilting it in her direction as if to thank her. Then he winked before sauntering toward the staircase with long strides until he disappeared again.
Kerrigan opened the door and took the feather-light box from Gabe’s baby bottom hands. “He’s going to be a major pain in the rear,” she murmured.
Gabe sighed wantonly. “Oh God, I hope so.”
Kerrigan Cruz.
Availia had adored her granddaughter. She talked about her almost constantly, like she was all she had to live for. Maybe she was. In the end, even that didn’t matter.
Kerrigan was nothing at all like what Availia had described. From first impressions, at least. It went without saying that Availia held her granddaughter’s life at a higher level of importance than even her own. The way she talked about her, it was like she was still an innocent child who hadn’t quite reached her full potential.
A child, she most certainly was not.
She had changed from her photos. Dominic thought she had been a cute young lady, but standing there face to face with her, he was able to see how much she had grown into a beautiful woman .
And she smelled so good.
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, chastising himself for the primal urges a mere mental image of her could evoke. Her skin was creamy, her lips so full and pink. Her eyes – Jesus, they were hypnotic: catlike in shape and bathed in a milky blue. He had only seen that color on one other person, Availia. But where Availia’s eyes exuberated wisdom far beyond her age, Kerrigan’s were sensual and enigmatic. They drew him in and held him captive. A predator’s lure for its prey.
And she definitely had spunk. He admired that trait in a woman, even if it was a total contradiction to all the soft contours of her body. The way she handled, or tried to handle, that poor excuse of a man who referred to himself as her fiancé – really, it was downright adorable.
She was either going to be a whole lot of fun, or a major pain in the ass.
Dominic climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door that led to another set of stairs to the attic on the third floor. It had been renovated into a room, his room. It used to be Kerrigan’s playroom. A testament to Availia’s adoration of her granddaughter, she had left it just as it was – an homage of sorts. It wasn’t until he came to stay that she decided to change it and allowed him free reign over redecorating it, making it his own. That room had become his safe haven, but he felt like he was confined there, unable to truly be free. Although he was actually capable of coming and going as he pleased, it just wasn’t safe to do so.
The bleakness of the attic room was reduced with splashes of red and white on the walls. A black comforter was spread unevenly on a full-size bed that was placed on one side of the large room, and a matching black futon lined the wall on the other side. An aged wardrobe lined the far wall and was filled with several vintage rock tees and faded 501 Button Fly Levi’s. Dominic considered them the staples to his attire, along with a scuffed pair of Doc Martens. He didn’t even bother with underwear. The commando style made him feel less constricted, not to mention it helped save on the laundry. The only other belongings in his room were a modest stereo that sat in the corner between the window and the futon and an acoustic guitar that was propped against one of its speakers. The décor was sparse, but it was all he needed.
The guitar was his most prized possession. It had once belonged to Availia’s deceased husband, and she had given it to him after he moved into the house. He loved to listen to rock music and learned how to play the guitar by strumming along with some of his
She sat her beer down on the table to reach for the door and caught a glimpse of Dominic out of her peripheral vision snatching the bottle back up. She turned toward him just in time to watch him put the bottle to his lips and take a drink before tilting it in her direction as if to thank her. Then he winked before sauntering toward the staircase with long strides until he disappeared again.
Kerrigan opened the door and took the feather-light box from Gabe’s baby bottom hands. “He’s going to be a major pain in the rear,” she murmured.
Gabe sighed wantonly. “Oh God, I hope so.”
Kerrigan Cruz.
Availia had adored her granddaughter. She talked about her almost constantly, like she was all she had to live for. Maybe she was. In the end, even that didn’t matter.
Kerrigan was nothing at all like what Availia had described. From first impressions, at least. It went without saying that Availia held her granddaughter’s life at a higher level of importance than even her own. The way she talked about her, it was like she was still an innocent child who hadn’t quite reached her full potential.
A child, she most certainly was not.
She had changed from her photos. Dominic thought she had been a cute young lady, but standing there face to face with her, he was able to see how much she had grown into a beautiful woman .
And she smelled so good.
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, chastising himself for the primal urges a mere mental image of her could evoke. Her skin was creamy, her lips so full and pink. Her eyes – Jesus, they were hypnotic: catlike in shape and bathed in a milky blue. He had only seen that color on one other person, Availia. But where Availia’s eyes exuberated wisdom far beyond her age, Kerrigan’s were sensual and enigmatic. They drew him in and held him captive. A predator’s lure for its prey.
And she definitely had spunk. He admired that trait in a woman, even if it was a total contradiction to all the soft contours of her body. The way she handled, or tried to handle, that poor excuse of a man who referred to himself as her fiancé – really, it was downright adorable.
She was either going to be a whole lot of fun, or a major pain in the ass.
Dominic climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door that led to another set of stairs to the attic on the third floor. It had been renovated into a room, his room. It used to be Kerrigan’s playroom. A testament to Availia’s adoration of her granddaughter, she had left it just as it was – an homage of sorts. It wasn’t until he came to stay that she decided to change it and allowed him free reign over redecorating it, making it his own. That room had become his safe haven, but he felt like he was confined there, unable to truly be free. Although he was actually capable of coming and going as he pleased, it just wasn’t safe to do so.
The bleakness of the attic room was reduced with splashes of red and white on the walls. A black comforter was spread unevenly on a full-size bed that was placed on one side of the large room, and a matching black futon lined the wall on the other side. An aged wardrobe lined the far wall and was filled with several vintage rock tees and faded 501 Button Fly Levi’s. Dominic considered them the staples to his attire, along with a scuffed pair of Doc Martens. He didn’t even bother with underwear. The commando style made him feel less constricted, not to mention it helped save on the laundry. The only other belongings in his room were a modest stereo that sat in the corner between the window and the futon and an acoustic guitar that was propped against one of its speakers. The décor was sparse, but it was all he needed.
The guitar was his most prized possession. It had once belonged to Availia’s deceased husband, and she had given it to him after he moved into the house. He loved to listen to rock music and learned how to play the guitar by strumming along with some of his
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