Fast Connection (Cyberlove #2) (19 page)

A squeak of bed springs sounded through the phone. “That’d be cool.”

“I’ll bring sandwiches. You eat yet?”

“Nah.”

“How soon?”

“An hour?”

“Good. Meet me on Martling, between the two lakes. See ya then.”

In an hour, I’d dressed, made some sandwiches and thrown in some chips, grapes, and cookies Chelle had made. I peeked in on her to tell her I was heading out for a few hours. She waved me away. In Micah’s room, he was texting, brow furrowed.

Omitting the truth from my kids was frustrating, but I respected Dominic’s plea to give him time. After all I’d been through with Jake, no way would I pressure Dominic into doing something he wasn’t comfortable doing.

Micah looked up when I rapped my knuckles on his open door. “Hey, I’ll be gone for a couple of hours. Don’t care what you do, but you gotta stay here.” He hesitated before nodding. I didn’t like the hesitation. “Got it?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

I glanced at his phone, and he angled it away from me. “Who you talking to?”

“Adriana.”

Right. Of course. Everything Dominic had said about his family played through my mind. “She’s welcome to come over if she wants.”

My son’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

“You want me to take the offer back?”

“No, I just… no. Thanks, Dad. She’s at work but still… thanks.”

I nodded. “See you soon.”

When I reached the park with my book bag full of food slung over my shoulder, Dominic was waiting for me, head down, shoulders hunched against the cold.

I was five feet away when he finally looked up, eyes brightening at the sight of me. I didn’t give a fuck who was around, I pulled him into a hug. I’d paid more attention to his body language the last couple of weeks, and it was clear how much he craved being touched. PDA wasn’t something I’d ever been okay with. That wasn’t the way Nadia and I had ever been together. But Dominic… he needed it. And I needed to give it to him.

He slipped his hands under my jacket and curled his fists into my T-shirt, pressing closer like he wanted to burrow into me. I squeezed the back of his neck and he shot me a wobbly grin before turning on his heel to walk into the park. We found a bench near the lake, and once we were seated, I pulled out a sandwich for him.

“Thanks, man.”

He only took a small bite and then picked at the turkey sticking out of the sandwich. I was halfway finished with mine. “Do I gotta fuck you to get you to eat?”

His cheeks flushed, and I chucked his chin. “I was joking. Tell me what has you all messed up. I haven’t heard your smart mouth once today.”

He slumped on the bench, sticking his legs out in front of him as he ground the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Family shit. My future shit. Everything is shit.” He dropped his hands into his lap. “Well, except for you. This isn’t shit.”

I shoved a cookie in his mouth. “Eat that, then tell me what’s up.”

He bit down and chewed. “Damn, that’s a good cookie.”

“Talk.”

He ran a hand through his hair, not even taking care with his still-bandaged finger. “You know how I said I didn’t remember Dad being this bad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I think I was right. He wasn’t. I found out he’s in debt. Major debt. Behind on rent and he’s close to losing the shop.”

I straightened, my appetite gone. “Shit.”

Dominic shivered despite the mild weather. “Yeah, so I think that’s why everything has been so awful. He’s stressed and taking it out on me and my sister because he doesn’t know how to handle anything that can’t be handled by screaming and cursing.”

I was still stuck on the debt thing. “That’s your family’s livelihood. What’s he going to do?”

Dominic slumped so low it looked like he’d slide off the bench. “He’s got no plan because he’s living in denial and full of rage. I have twenty thousand in my bank account from when I was overseas, but that won’t help in the long term. He’s just going to fall behind again, because he’s been running the business the same way since he opened, and he’s always in the red. But I can’t just… not help. I can’t abandon Adriana and move out like I planned while they lose everything. I’m fucking stuck.”

Nadia used to get pissed at me when she’d rant about her job, and I’d offer solutions.
I don’t want you to try to fix anything, I just want to vent,
she’d tell me. But Dominic wasn’t Nadia. And the despair in his voice was killing me.

“Can you talk to him about how he runs the business? Where he’s investing the profit? How he can do better?”

Dominic shot me a side-eye. “You haven’t tried to have a conversation with my dad, so I’ll give you a pass on acting like I can just stroll in and give him advice. I tried to bring it up again the other day when I noticed him yet again putting in orders for shit people don’t buy, and he threatened to put my lights out.”

“He better think twice before he puts his hands on you.”

“Aw, you offering to be my bodyguard?”

I rolled my eyes. “Is he going to be able to talk to you without getting crazy?”

“I don’t know. I feel like there’s no getting through to him. I will try to talk to him again, though. Something has to change. Hopefully he’ll stay calm and listen to reason.”

I glanced around, but saw zero signs of other people. Dominic was no small guy, but I managed to tug him to me until he sat astride my lap. I thought he’d resist, worried about someone seeing, but instead he sagged against me, his arms looped around my shoulders.

I ran my hands up his back and then cupped his face, kissing him and tasting cookie. When I pulled back, his eyes were closed. They opened into slits, bright blue beneath blond lashes.

“When I’m home, everything seems hopeless. Then I’m with you, and I feel like coming back here was worth it.” His fingers tightened on me. “But all we do is talk about my problems. I don’t see what you’re getting out of hanging with me at the moment.”

“Hey,” I said, tugging his hair. “I’ve been where you are. So I get it. And isn’t it clear to you what you give me?” Seeing the sparkle in his eye, I clapped my hand over his mouth. “Don’t answer that and make it dirty.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled from behind my hand.

“You make me happy.” The words were simple, but I didn’t know how to speak flowery. “The kids say I laugh more and yell less. We all got problems, Dominic. You’re just in a particularly bad spot. It’ll even out.”

He shifted closer, his knees on either side of my hips. “For someone who didn’t like talking much, you sure as hell know the right things to say.”

My hands drifted down to his jean-clad ass. “I try my best just for you.”

He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, gaze smoldering. Classic signs of a horny Dominic Costigan. Jesus, we were in public but I wanted him.

“What’re you trying to do?”

“Nothing,” he said, grinding against me. “Just showing you how grateful I am.”

“This doesn’t feel like nothing.”

“Just kiss me and shut up, Luke.”

So I did. I kissed him until we were both panting. And then I had to push him away from me before I fucked him right there on the bench in broad daylight with random people sporadically jogging by.

He fell back with a laugh. “Should my feelings be hurt?”

“Not in the mood to get arrested for public indecency.” I shoved the rest of my sandwich in my mouth, swallowed, then chugged half of the water before handing it to him. He took it from me with a distracted nod. He was already back in his head, worrying about his family.

I knew he felt helpless, and that made me feel helpless. If I knew he’d let me, I’d march down to Hot Bagels right now and confront Duffy Costigan. Maybe it wasn’t my business, but him not taking action was keeping Dominic in a stranglehold, and it wasn’t right. I just didn’t know what I could do to help.

Dominic and I were finally on the same page about our feelings for each other, but we didn’t live in a vacuum. I wondered how long our other problems would intrude on our relationship. And if we’d be able to plow through together or apart.

Dominic

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday. Everyone assumes kids only love Christmas, but it was Thanksgiving that really got me hyped. My parents had always spoken too loudly about money for me to ever have believed in Santa Claus or magically acquired presents, so to me Christmas had been a sign of coming stress and tension in the house. But Thanksgiving? Nah. Everyone loved a good meal.

If anyone said anything about the Costigans, it would be that we love food and take cooking seriously. My parents would be marinating and prepping a couple of days before the big day, and we were only ever cooking for the four of us. We were probably the only half-Irish-American, half-Italian-American family in Staten Island to
not
do the big shindig and invite every cousin, aunt, or uncle. That just wasn’t the way Duffy rolled.

It was the same way this year, but the vibe had definitely changed.

“Teresa, it’s not gonna cook if you keep opening the fucking oven.”

The sharp tone of my father’s voice was the first sign of a coming situation. For all that he growled and sneered at Adriana and me, Duffy typically treated our mother like she was made of glass unless they were talking about money. Now he could barely get a word out without barking it.

“I know how to cook, Duff. Calm down and go watch the game.”

It was painfully obvious that he didn’t want to watch the game. He prowled around the house, muttering to himself and flipping off light switches, while we stayed in the kitchen with our mother. She was trying hard to pretend like nothing was wrong, but her eyes were too bright and her smile was forced.

“Ma,” I said, after watching her check on the turkey for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. “We really need to talk.”

“Not today, baby.”

Adriana had retreated to her room for the time being, so I slid off the barstool to stand closer to my mother. “Ma, he told me what’s going on. About the money.”

She gave me a startled look. “Your father did?”

“Who else?”

“I told him not to tell you kids.”

I tried to feel surprised, but wasn’t. Duffy didn’t want us involved because he wanted to pretend he had everything under control, but our mother would never want us to worry.

“I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t have to protect me.” When she shook her head, lips pursed, and furiously stirred her homemade gravy, I put a hand on her shoulder. “I have money.”

“No.”

“Ma—”

“I said no.” She spun towards me, eyes blazing. “I know you’ve got money, Nicky. And I know you want to help out, but this isn’t
your
problem. It’s
ours.
We created this situation and we’ll deal with it if it all falls down around us.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I hadn’t meant to curse or raise my voice, but it popped out of my mouth. I instantly saw the hurt in her eyes and regretted it. I regretted it even more when my father came storming into the kitchen like a bat out of hell.

“What’s going on, Teresa?”

Her hurt hardened into irritation and impatience. Again, it was the first time I’d seen them react this way to each other. Their relationship was usually rock solid and full of affection despite all the yelling and stress. Other people didn’t understand, but it had always made sense to me. Now? She looked like she wanted him to piss off.

“I’m having a conversation with my son.”

“Sounds like your son is disrespecting you.”

My hands curled into fists. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just sick at the thought of you guys dropping the ball on this situation because of your pride.”

Duffy’s face colored. “I told you before and I’ll tell you again--this situation is not your fucking problem, boy. It’s
ours.
I’ll find a way out of it.”

“Oh, by looking for a loan shark?”

My mother’s eyes widened. She whipped her head around so fast I was surprised it didn’t crack. “Duffy. Tell me you didn’t.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. He was too busy glaring at me with beady eyes. “You son of a bitch.”

This was going to get bad. I knew it. Every fiber of my being fucking knew it. None of that stopped me from forging full speed ahead with the cavalier attitude of a Metro North conductor. Shoving away from the counter, I stepped closer to my father and jabbed a finger in his direction.

“You wanna talk about a son of a bitch? How about you sitting on your ass while yet another month passes us by without you figuring out how to pay the guy who owns the building Hot Bagels is in? And you—” I switched to pointing at my mother. “How could you act like the business failing is only your problem? I can get out—I know I can. I got enough money to bail on all of you right now, but my little sister sure as hell doesn’t. If they take the shop, and this house, what happens to her?”

The stairs creaked, and I knew Adriana was hovering just out of sight. Listening. And finding out everything. Damn it.

I sucked in a deep breath. “Let me help.”

“No,” they said at the same time.

“I have money.”

“I don’t need your goddamn money,” Duffy roared. “I need your pointy nose out of my goddamn business. When you were off playing soldier, you didn’t give one fuck about this family. You barely came home even when you were posted at a base an hour away. You never asked about the shop—”

“Because I thought you could handle it! I didn’t know I needed to worry!”

“You didn’t give enough of a fuck to worry,” he said. “You’ve always been more worried about the next woman who’s gonna climb on your dick.” There was a pause before he spat out, “And now I guess you’re thinking about men doing it too.”

The world stilled around me. My mother’s hand rose to her mouth.

“Yeah,” Duffy said. “Yeah, I know. This is a big island but a small community. I had to hear it from a friend of mine that my son was fucking
some degenerate
in the park like a pervert.”

The panic faded and was replaced by a clean slice of rage. “He’s not a fucking degenerate. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.” Before I could stop myself, I shoved him hard enough to send him flying halfway across the kitchen. His back hit the counter, and he grunted with pain.