“Thanks! Have a wonderful stay in the Crossing.”
Belle closed the till drawer and waited until the door closed behind their final customers for the evening, then let the effusive smile drain from her mouth. The small clock on the reception desk ticked away to itself, and Belle shuddered when she saw the time.
Eleven forty-nine. PM, that is. The sign on the door specifically stated they closed at ten, but the times had been pushed out farther and farther this spring until they had people lingering over desserts and not leaving until it was obvious that they were the last ones standing.
Sure, it was great. People loved the atmosphere and word of mouth had got around through the tourist circles that the food was good and the wine top-shelf. They’d even had a starred write-up in the Saturday morning magazine of a fancy Sydney newspaper.
It didn’t make the long days any easier, though.
At least she’d had time this evening to use her training to recommend, present, and serve wines for the meals.
She pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen and leaned back against the bench. She hung her head backward and groaned.
A small chuckle to her right opened her eyes.
“My feet hurt. No, scratch that. Everything hurts,” she grumbled.
Adele, one of their waitresses, nodded and rolled her shoulders. “I agree. I have aches in parts I didn’t know could ache. But yeah, the feet really suck.” She looked at her feet. “Even with these awesome new shoes that Hannah recommended.”
Belle glanced down, too. She’d got the same ones. Hannah’s nursing job up at the hospital had her on her feet all day, too. She’d gushed about how good her new shoes were and Belle was willing to try anything at this point.
The new, upmarket stone flooring her father had had installed was gorgeous to look at, but hell on their legs.
“All done, B.”
Dante’s voice pulled her from her thoughts and she looked over to where he stood wiping his hands on a tea towel at the prep bench. Suze, their kitchenhand, lifted the hood on the commercial dishwasher, clouds of steam enveloping her and Dante in the process.
Belle grinned at him. “You really need to hit Dad up for some overtime.”
He grinned right back at her. “I would if I actually worked here.” He motioned with his head. “C’mere.”
She pushed off the bench and walked over to him. He pointed at the bench and grabbed her waist, lifting her onto the edge of the shiny, gleaming stainless steel.
Belle grabbed at the bench for stability. Her heart raced at the unexpected boost onto the bench.
“You know you don’t have to waste your Saturday nights in my kitchen, don’t you?”
Dante lifted one of her feet to his bent leg and propped it on his thigh while he unclipped the band of her Mary Jane–styled shoes.
“And how else am I going to see you on the weekends if I don’t? If I’m gonna hang around in here, I may as well be useful.”
He glanced at her while removing the second shoe. “Although I am pretty annoyed that last lot wouldn’t bugger off. A new movie dropped on Netflix and I wanted to watch it with you tonight. I even brought popcorn. The triple butter one.”
Belle grinned as he dropped each shoe to the floor and picked up her stockinged foot. “What genre is it, if you have to bribe me with my favourite popcorn?”
She could see he was trying to keep his own amusement under wraps by the twitching at the corner of his mouth. Adele laughed and Suze chuckled in the background.
“He’s sucking up so bad, Belle. Don’t cave,” Suze said.
“Horror.”
Belle’s chuckle morphed into a groan as strong fingers found her sore arches. “Ohhh, that’s good. Do you really think I’m going to watch another horror with you after the last catastrophe?”
“Well, yeah. This one’s not like that, there’s no gore. It’s more old school. And I don’t know why you thought the last one was so bad.”
He dug his fingers deep into her flesh and her eyes rolled back at the combination of pleasure and pain.
“That okay?”
“Mmm. Nice.” She tried to open her eyes but gave up. Dante’s hands on her feet were bliss. Dante’s hands anywhere were bliss. She’d take what she could get, especially since it was offered. “I ended up in your lap, is why. I hate jump scares, you know that. I think I was so scared I would’ve crawled inside you if I could’ve.”
She’d missed the entire last third of the movie, her face pressed hard into his shoulder, her hands up beside her face so she wouldn’t accidentally see what was making the awful sounds coming from the surround soundbar of her family’s large TV.
It had been utter pleasure, and complete torture. He’d wrapped her tight in his arms and made her sit through the entire thing, malicious bastard that he was.
Not that she’d complained. Sitting on his lap and getting to hold on to him had been a massive highlight of her week, maybe even her entire year; his warm, delicious skin separated from her mouth by his thin T-shirt, his heart beating beneath her ear, its pace speeding up in the more terrifying parts of the movie.
He’d had to move her on his lap, her weight apparently putting his thigh muscles to sleep because she’d sat in one place so long.
But he hadn’t pushed her off. A slow smile wound onto her lips. Sure, she’d been terrified—in parts—but that didn’t stop her milking it for all she could get and maybe pretending she was a touch more scared than she really was. If she hadn’t been so inexperienced, had been a bit more confident, she might have even tried to kiss him. Or more.
“I looked at the reviews. There’re no jump scares, I promise. And I watched your superhero movie last week. That should be more than enough payment.”
Belle cracked an eye open to look at Suze and Adele. “You guys wanna watch, too?”
Dante’s fingers stopped their wonderful massage.
“Nah, I’m headed home. I’m beat,” Adele said.
Suze nodded in agreement. “Me, too. I’m knackered.”
Belle couldn’t help the swirls of anticipation and relief as Dante’s hands resumed their fabulous stroking. She’d only asked to be polite, hoping like crazy she could have this time alone with Dante. Jack and her father would be fast asleep, their days starting and finishing much earlier than hers. She’d have him all to herself, which was impossible at his place.
The only one not still living at home was Angel, and he lived next door.
Literally.
She had a snowball’s chance in hell if she wanted him alone at his place. And she’d never get away with sitting on his lap over there, either. The instant any of his family witnessed that, they’d have them married off and sprouting a brood of children before the movie was finished.
He slid her shoes back on and patted her on the thigh. “C’mon then. Let’s get moving if we actually want to see this thing.”
They said goodnight to the others and Belle glanced around the kitchen to make sure everything was in its place. Satisfied, she flicked the light switches off so that the only one left on was over the hob, and locked the back door, pulling it shut behind her.
Dante pulled a packet of microwave popcorn out of his jacket pocket and held it up. The outdoor twinkle lights that lit the short pathway to the house glinted in his eyes.
Belle laughed. “Yes, all right!”
“Did your costume turn up yet?”
Belle nodded. “Came this morning. I can’t wait! Max’s Halloween parties are always so much fun. I love seeing what everyone comes up with each year. It’s the only time I get to dress up.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You could always go to work dressed as a pirate or something.” He glanced at her sideways. “Or a serving wench.”
Belle laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Stop it. I don’t have enough up top to fill out one of those costumes.”
He looked her up and down. “Sure you do. Don’t those corset things push everything up anyway?”
“I’d still need to have something to push up.”
He made a noncommittal noise and they stepped onto the paved verandah. Belle frowned at the low noise coming through the open living room window. A soft giggle and her stomach dropped.
She stopped dead.
“What is it?”
“More like, who is it,” she said quietly.
A soft ahhh expelled on Dante’s breath. They moved to the edge of the window frame and peeked through.
“Dammit,” Dante bit off a curse.
Belle’s shoulders dropped. Dammit indeed. Jack was home and had his girlfriend over. There was no way to make her brother leave the room if they’d set themselves up in there.
While technically Jack still lived there, he’d been at his girlfriend’s place more and more the last few months. They had an old worker’s cottage that he’d mumbled about renovating and moving into for privacy, but Belle wasn’t sure that would be up to Patrice’s particular standards.
“Come back to my place. We can’t use the TV in my room—Raph’s staying in there until we get his old room cleaned out of all the junk that’s been piled in there over the years. But Dad will be in bed and I doubt the others will still be up. We open for breakfast tomorrow.”
Belle glanced at him. They didn’t do full meals at his cellar door, only cakes and biscuits, but Sunday mornings were a different story—a fully laid-on Italian-style breakfast on old-fashioned, wooden trestle tables in the bistro patio area. Huge, ancient vines covered the massive gazebo, the tables set up on the old terracotta paving. It felt like visiting a vineyard in old-world Tuscany, which is why they were booked solid every Sunday for at least a month in advance.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Her belly sank to her toes. So much for time alone. Not that Dante knew that’s what she’d been looking forward to; she’d be mortified if he even suspected. He’d probably feel sorry for her, having a crush on her best friend like that.
It was embarrassing, if she thought about it too hard. Even crushing on Raph or Leo would be ridiculously clichéd. The only one not would be if she had the hots for Ria. She almost laughed aloud at that. Ria was lovely, but she wasn’t the one Belle wanted to get her hands all over.
She looked up at Dante as they crossed the road in the light of the full moon.
He glanced at her and flashed a grin her way. He literally took her breath away. He looked nothing like his older brothers; they were hazel-eyed blonds. Dante had his mother’s raven hair and deep, dark-blue eyes, a dangerous combination in anyone’s book. The only thing they all had in common was their gorgeous Mediterranean skin, courtesy of their father.
Quite simply, he was stunning.
Dante thought he was the odd one out, the changeling. She’d always thought he was the most beautiful.
Raph’s flashy, pretty-boy looks had him never without company, and Leo could almost pass as his twin. Angel wasn’t far behind in the looks department, but his blond hair was darker, more of a butterscotch colour, and curly.
They were all lean and well-muscled; growing up working on the vineyard had made sure of that. Height-wise, Leo was the shortest at an impressive six-foot-one. Dante sat in the middle, just over six-two, something he never let Leo forget.
Their feet crunched on the gravel path as they got closer to the house, taking the path veering off to the right rather than going straight ahead to the cellar door.
Welcoming lights blazed cheerily out into the bright night from the front porch, bugs happily clunking into the amber glass of the vintage, hanging coach lights along the front of the house, their brass chains as shiny as the day they’d been installed.
Dante opened the door and stepped back for Belle to pass him and go inside. Her shoulder brushed his chest and she tried to hide the shudder winding from the point of contact down her back to her toes.
They rounded the corner to the large, couch-filled living room. Belle’s gaze fell to the formal brocade love seat that sat near the open bay windows. Clear plastic covered the seat, back, and arms.
A small smile passed over her mouth.
Dante’s mother’s seat. She’d never even touched the fabric. It could be as rough as razorblades for all she knew.
Olivia Casellati had never let anyone sit on the good chair. Ever.
Belle had tried to once, many years ago, only to be shooed away by the frantic matriarch of the Casellati family.
That chair was for important people only. So important that none important enough had ever sat on its hallowed fibres. She thought even the Pope would’ve been given the evil eye if he’d presumed to sit there.
Dante flopped down on the large corner lounge in the centre of the room. Two oversize recliners sat either side of it, a large rectangular ottoman sitting squarely before it.
He grabbed the remotes and blipped on the TV on the wall opposite. He grinned and tossed the pack of popcorn at her.
“You know where the microwave is.”
Belle shook her head and muttered under her breath.
Cheeky bastard.
She waited until the popping slowed enough, that point just before it starts to burn, and tipped it into a clear plastic bowl.
She sat near Dante, but not too close. He’d already gotten the movie ready and waiting, the only light being the floor lamp in the corner.
He reached for some popcorn, and she yanked it out of his way.
“I made it, it’s mine.”
“She has a point, Dante.” Ria leaned against the doorway to the hall, Leo leaning over her head. “We heard you guys come home. Thought we’d join you if you popped on a movie.” She motioned at the TV and glanced up at her big brother. Leo nodded in agreement.
Belle tossed some popcorn into her mouth and chewed loudly, smug at herself for evading Dante.
Leo’s eyes narrowed and a sly grin ticked his mouth up. “I wouldn’t stand for that, bro. Hogging all the popcorn isn’t on.”
Belle hugged it closer, chewed harder, and swallowed. The delicious, hot, savoury smell made her stomach rumble loudly.
“She’ll eat the whole lot if you’re not careful.”
“You be quiet, Leonardo Casellati.” Belle leaned back into the plush lounge. “You’re not getting any, either.”
Dante made a swipe for the bowl and Belle held it out to the side, laughing, out of his reach. “Give it here, brat.”
Leo laughed. “There’s only one sure way to make sure you get some of that popcorn, you know.”
Dante twisted to look at him. “Which is?”
Leo’s grin turned sassy. “Kiss her.”
Belle burst out laughing so hard she snorted. She laughed so hard she almost forgot to hold the popcorn out of Dante’s way.
“Not in a million years, Leo,” she managed around her chuckles.
Dante’s expression morphed from shell-shocked to contemplative. “Is that right?”
Belle wiped her face and grinned at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “You asked for it.”
He lunged forward and grabbed her head in both hands. His mouth hit hers before she could take a breath, her eyes wide in shock.
He tilted his head and softened his lips, opening them slightly. Belle’s eyes closed.
Good Lord above.
Shivers danced down her spine and spread out over her entire body. Her stomach somersaulted and twisted tight. She responded without thinking. Her mouth moved in time with his. She gasped when the tip of his tongue touched her lip.
Hell yes!
She couldn’t breathe. Thinking was impossible. All that existed was Dante and the sweet taste of his mouth.
He moved slightly, his grip on her head changing and lessening. He pulled back the tiniest amount then swiped his tongue to touch hers.
Heat pooled deep in her belly. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together with the intensity.
She wanted him.
Belle jerked back, shocked at how fast her treacherous body gave in to him. Dante leaned back, his eyes slightly glazed in the dim living room light. He licked his bottom lip, and a shudder ran through her, so strong it almost shook her bones.
He blinked, awareness flooding his face.
She didn’t know what to do or where to look. How could she pretend that hadn’t affected her? Her reaction was obvious to anyone in the room.
Dante looked back at his brother. “Satisfied?”
Ria swooped from across the room and shoved herself between Dante and Belle. She shuffled Belle over and grabbed the offending bowl of popcorn. Belle could hear the amusement in Leo’s voice.
“Very.”
Ria pushed the bowl into Dante’s hands. “Eat up. It’s all yours.” She pulled the remote from under Dante’s thigh and pressed play. The movie flashed to life on the large screen.
Holy heck.
The real Dante kissed even better than Dream Dante, and that was saying something. She touched her bottom lip, unsure if the last few minutes had really happened, or if she was having a Walter Mitty moment. She glanced over to see Ria looking at her, a slight, smug smile teasing the edges of her mouth.
It had happened, all right. In front of his damned family.
Heat rushed up her neck and Belle focused on the screen in front of them. She wasn’t sure if she should thank Ria for saving her from complete and utter embarrassment, or flatten her for egging Leo on.
She didn’t dare look at Dante. She breathed deep and looked down.
“Hey! Where’s my popcorn?”