Fast Connection (Cyberlove #2) (20 page)

We stared at each other for just a second before his face turned bright red.

I saw his punch coming, but I didn’t stop it. I hadn’t expected it to turn into a two-punch combo, though. My ass was hitting the floor, and I was falling back before I could get my bearings, but then adrenaline took over. I blocked the coming blows as best I could with my ears ringing and eyes watering, and flipped us over so I was pinning him to the floor. It would have been easy to wail on him and take out all my aggression and frustration, but as soon as I raised my fist to sock him, guilt swarmed over me.

“Fuck.” My lower lip trembled. I threw myself away from him, scrabbling backward on the floor. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Duffy pushed himself up, breathing so hard it seemed like he was having a heart attack. He stared at me without speaking, and for several moments the only sounds in the kitchen were our heavy breathing and my mother crying. Adriana must have either retreated to her room or was still hiding on the stairs.

Using the edge of the counter, I staggered to my feet. “I’ll leave.”

“No!” My mother’s voice was choked with tears. I hadn’t realized I was bleeding until she touched my face. “Please, Nicky. Please.”

I looked at Duffy again. He’d pulled himself to his feet but was hunched over the counter with his hands pressed against his face. He was crying. Somehow I knew without hearing or seeing the tears.

“I’ll—” My hands were shaking. “I’ll just go, uh, I’ll go walk the dog. I’ll be back.”

I fled the kitchen before anyone could say anything more and was out the door with the dog before anyone could stop me. I also didn’t want Adriana to see the mess of my face. It had only taken one glance in the hall mirror to see the busted lip and rapidly swelling eye. And, like my father, my face was damp with tears.

The sky was darkening and there weren’t a lot of people on the street—they were all inside eating Thanksgiving dinner with their family. But this way, there was no one to ask me questions. No one to come to their own, likely correct, conclusions. No one to see my trembling hands and tear-streaked face.

I tried to figure out how that conversation had gone so wrong so fast, and it all came down to his comment about me and Luke. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to ruin the one drop of happiness I had? God, why couldn’t I control my fucking temper?

My shoulders were shaking and my feet were on autopilot. I found myself turning onto Luke’s block before I could stop myself.

Luke

My stomach was going to burst, but there was still Nadia’s famous sweet potato pie, sitting on the kitchen counter, warm from the oven.

I’d invited her and Anderson over for Thanksgiving dinner with the kids. I was surprised when they took me up on it, but it was nice to observe how Anderson treated her. He doted on her, respected her, and looked at her like she’d hung the moon. She deserved that, and the best part was… she looked at him the same way.

The thought flitted through my mind—
wish Dominic was here
—before I laughed at myself. How quickly I’d changed from wanting zero attachments to wishing he could spend holidays with me and the kids.

But we weren’t quite there yet. He still hadn’t told Adriana about us, so my kids didn’t know. I didn’t like hiding this big part of my life from them.

I’d forbidden the kids to have their phones at the table during dinner, but Micah kept excusing himself to use the bathroom. So either he had a bladder infection or the kid was sneaking away to use his phone. I would have barked at him, but something about the concerned look on his face told me to let it go.

“I didn’t leave room for dessert.” Nadia pouted.

“I did.” Anderson rubbed his stomach, which was seriously testing the strength of his shirt buttons.

“I let you lick the bowl,” she said.

“And it wasn’t nearly enough.”

I was worried this was innuendo for something else and stood up. “I guess I’ll go get the pie.”

“I can get it,” Nadia said.

I waved a hand. “Sit, it’s fine.” I was halfway to the kitchen when there was a knock at my door. I paused, hoping it wasn’t one of the neighbors trying to borrow some more foil. They’d already asked for eggs. Holidays were out of control.

The knock sounded again. Stronger this time. With a huff, I opened the door and stared in shock.

Dominic stood on my porch, holding the leash of a yellow lab that was panting at his feet. And his face… fuck. His eye was swelling, his lip was cut, and his eyes were bright with restrained tears. He wore a pair of sweatpants, unlaced sneakers, and a T-shirt with an unzipped hoodie that was falling off one shoulder.

“What happened?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

He hiked up the sweatshirt and zipped it as if seeking warmth or protection. “My father.”

It took all my energy and memory of training to stay where I was rather than storm down to his house and punch his dad in the fucking mouth. But of course that wouldn’t do any good. It would probably make things worse.

I wanted to tug Dominic to me, wrap him in my arms and touch him the way I knew he liked. But he was holding himself away from me with his chin out, letting me know if I touched him, he’d break. And he didn’t want to break right now, on my front porch, with my family laughing down the hallway.

“Come in. We’re about to have dessert.”

“You sure? It was stupid to come over here. It’s fucking Thanksgiving. I just…” He gestured. “Fuck, I don’t know. I just had to get out of there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. And it wasn’t stupid.” When he hesitated, I jerked my thumb at his dog. “What’s your dog’s name?”

The relieved slump of his shoulders told me I’d made the right call.

“Biscuit.”

“Biscuit?”

“Don’t judge me, owner of a cat named Popsicle.”

I laughed as I shut the door behind him. “Okay, you have me there.”

He flashed me a grin, and my heart ached as a trickle of blood spilled from his cut lip. I pointed at the downstairs bathroom. “Go clean yourself up. Uh, the kids are here. And Nadia.”

His eyes bugged out. “Your ex-wife?”

“Yeah. She came for dinner. The kids spend Thanksgiving here and Christmas with her in Hoboken.”

His fingers tightened on his dog’s leash. “Of course I meet her when I look like a fucking thug.”

“You don’t look like a thug.” I pushed him toward the bathroom. “Clean up, though. She might hug you, and we can’t have you bleeding on her designer sweater.”

“Right.”

I gestured to his eye. “Let me get you something for that.”

“Luke, it doesn’t matt—”

“Stop arguing. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He clamped his lips shut and nodded.

I watched his back as he walked with his dog toward the bathroom. His shoulders were hunched again, and his head was down. I hated seeing him so defeated.

Fuck his fucking father.

I made a detour to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer. On my way to deliver it to Dominic, Nadia called from the dining room. “Who was at the door?”

“A friend. Be there in a minute. You can start serving the pie if you want.”

I didn’t wait for an answer as I speed-walked down my hallway. I had to step over Biscuit, who was lying in the doorway of the bathroom, to find Dominic sitting on the closed toilet. He held a tissue to his bloody lip.

I handed him the bag of peas. “Might want to hold that on your eye for a few.”

He nodded, still examining the floor.

“Hey,” I said, and waited for him to look up. “I’m glad you came here.”

“You have to just be saying that. I showed up all beat-up and pathetic with my dog on Thanksgiving while your family is in there eating mashed potatoes and gravy. I just didn’t know where else to go.”

The bag of peas lay in his lap. I grabbed it, placed it on his face, then slapped his hand over the bag to keep it in place. I leaned down as he narrowed his eyes at me mutinously.

“Again with the arguing. I said I’m glad you came here, and I mean it. You’re welcome here. You know that.”

His face looked like it was going to crumble, like if I showed any more kindness or concern, he’d dissolve.

I straightened after ensuring he was going to keep the bag of peas in place. “So what do you want me to tell the kids about you being here?”

He took a moment to gather himself with a long inhale. “Just tell ’em we’re friends.” I raised my eyebrows, which made his lips tilt into a smile. “What, your kids won’t believe you have friends?”

“They have never seen us interact even when we’re in the same location.”

“Tell them we bonded over being vets or something. You’re… my silver-fox mentor. They can believe that.”

Okay, that could work. I hated lying, but this wasn’t the time for grand revelations.

Dominic stood up and moved the makeshift compress away from his face. In the small confines of the bathroom, his body brushed mine. I ran my fingers over the skin around his eye, now cold to the touch and blotchy.

“Thank you,” he said.

I gripped his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah. Just come out when you’re ready.”

I grabbed Biscuit’s leash. The dog came easily, trotting beside me as I walked back into the dining room where Nadia was serving dessert. My appetite was gone now.

Micah’s gaze immediately flicked down to the dog. He stood up so quickly, his chair fell over behind him. “Why do you have Biscuit?” He glanced behind me, as if expecting Adriana to appear.

“Dominic swung by. He’s in the bathroom, but he’ll be out in a second.”

Micah’s eyes narrowed. “Nicky Costigan?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s he here?”

“Because he is. Sit down and quit asking so many questions.”

Micah’s eyes grew big, and when I glanced at Chelle, she was twisting her hands nervously in her lap

Nadia, who had been hazy with wine, was now alert. “What’s going on?”

“How do you know Nicky?” Chelle asked.

I glared at Micah, knowing he’d probably prodded her to ask. “I bumped into him while jogging a couple of times. We’ve hung out.” These were not lies but were incredibly far from the whole truth.

Micah was not buying it. “You’re friends with Nicky Costigan?”

“Can you stop saying his first and last name like that? And what’s so weird about it? We both served so—”

Nadia’s gasp, followed by her hand clapping over her mouth, signaled to me that Dominic had most likely made an appearance behind me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then turned around.

He’d cleaned up a little, but it did nothing to hide his swollen eye and split lip. He’d left the peas behind and stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. I tugged an empty chair from the corner and slid it beside me.

“Sit.”

Dominic sat—no argument—while my family stared at him.

I cleared my throat. “This is Dominic Costigan. His family owns the bagel shop down the street, and his sister is friends with the kids.” I introduced everyone around the table. Nadia had that look she got when we walked by kittens at the pet store, Anderson was confused, Chelle looked scared, and Micah was visibly pissed.

It was an odd thing, to see myself in my child. And right now, Micah was all me as he stared down Dominic. “Is she okay?” His voice was a whip-crack.

Dominic nodded. “Yeah, just texted her. They were eating dinner. All’s quiet.”

Micah relaxed and poked at his pie with his fork.

Nadia’s smile was overly bright, her gaze shifting between the two of us. She’d figured it out. “Would you like some pie, Dominic?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes.” Dominic shifted in his seat, tense and more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him. He even spoke differently—his Staten Island accent less harsh in front of my ex-wife and her boyfriend. “Thank you.” He accepted the plate with a glance at me, and I brushed his knee under the table with my fingers. He relaxed and began to eat.

Chelle was still closely observing him. It occurred to me to redirect her attention but before I could, she blurted out, “I’m sorry your dad’s an asshole.”

Dominic’s fork clattered on his plate as Nadia and I both yelled at the same time, “Michelle Victoria!”

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking!”

“Jesus Christ.” I put my head in my hands.

Nadia was still yelling, Anderson was trying to calm her down, and when I looked over at Dominic, he met my gaze, his eyes crinkled. He was laughing.

Laughing.

“It’s not funny,” I said.

“It actually
is
funny.”

“My daughter called your father an asshole.”

“He is an asshole. She knows it.” Dominic gestured at my son. “Micah knows it, because he’s pretty much Adriana’s only friend. I mean, Chelle’s your daughter, so do what you’re gonna do. But she was just trying to be nice and take care of the elephant in the room.” He stuck a loaded fork in his mouth, then pointed at the rest of the slice. “Also, this is great fucking pie.”

I shook my head. “You’re an idiot.”

He grinned around another mouthful. “Yeah, pretty much.”

When I looked up, the room was silent, and all eyes were on us.
Fuck.

I straightened in my chair, noticing I’d drifted closer to him and him to me. Nadia and I exchanged a look, and God bless her, she got it. Pointing at Chelle, she said, “We’ll talk later.” After getting an eye roll from our daughter, she placed a hand on Anderson’s arm. “You ready?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod. The dude knew how to take a cue. “Sure, I can get our coats.”

Five minutes later, I stood by the front door with Nadia while Anderson warmed up the car outside.

The opening whoosh of the Xbox starting filtered down the hall, and Chelle’s footsteps echoed as she made her way to her room. I leaned a shoulder against the door and crossed my arms over my chest, knowing Nadia was going to have some questions.

“So.” Nadia fingered her large beaded necklace. “I didn’t think when you finally introduced me to someone for the first time in fifteen years, he’d be a Jersey Shore type with a black eye.”

With a groan, I ran my hand down my face. “Look—”