By a Thread: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy Page 33

I snorted.

  “I hope you can see beyond his high-handed actions,” she continued. “There is no one in this world I would rather have on my side than my son. He’s fiercely loyal, protective.”

  I’d seen both those sides of him.

  “I hope you don’t see him trying to resign as him choosing me over you.” The bonds between parents and their children shouldn’t be so fragile.

  She turned to face me, a smile playing on her lips. “Darling, I think this is the first time that Dominic chose himself. I’m ecstatic.”

  I joined her at the window. “I don’t want him to have to walk away from Label. Not for me,” I told her.

  “I have a potential solution in mind that I will present to the powers that be.”

  “Are you firing me?” I’d understand. I’d caused a lot of unnecessary drama for an admin. And I’d seduced my boss in direct disregard of company policy.

  “No.” She laughed. “But if you’re open to being reassigned within the company—at your current salary level, of course—I believe we can minimize the fuss.”

  A flicker of hope lit inside me. “As long as I don’t report directly to Dominic?”

  “Precisely.”

  I blew out a breath and nodded vigorously. “That would be great.”

  “I don’t know if they’ll allow it. We could have been destroyed by what Paul did, and this might stir up memories amongst the staff. There will still be talk and speculation. There is always interest in any woman Dominic dates, but this situation is rather salacious,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

  “I can handle it,” I assured her. “It’s better to be honest about it anyway. Makes whispering about it harder.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out,” she said quietly. “Not everyone can face the whispers.”

  Something tickled at me. Some of her previous comments gelled into something nebulous. Dalessandra was hinting at something.

  “I think the Russos have paid enough penance, don’t you?”

  She glanced my way and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “I mean, you both have worked hard to clean up your ex-husband’s mess and to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “We’ve made strides,” she agreed. “But I’m not convinced it’s enough.”

  “If anyone owes a debt, it’s Paul. He committed the crime, but it seems like you and Dominic are the ones who paid the price.”

  “My son doesn’t deserve to carry the burden of his father’s past mistakes.”

  “Maybe you should start thinking about the future instead of the past,” I suggested.

  She gave me a quizzical look and then turned back to the window.

  We watched Dominic pick up a tennis ball and toss it across the frozen yard for the joyful dog to chase.

  “Would you have let him hide it? If that’s what he wanted to do?” I asked her.

  She sighed. “I’d told myself I was done lying for the Russo men. But Dominic is not his father.”

  “He most definitely is not,” I agreed. “He didn’t start this, Dalessandra. I want you to know that. He didn’t pursue me or strongarm me into it. If anything, I did the convincing.”

  “I would do anything to protect my son’s happiness. I have a good feeling about you and him, but…” She turned to face me again, holding eye contact so there was no mistaking her message. “Dominic is a wonderful man with a very soft heart hidden under layers of armor, and if you hurt him or take advantage of him or play on his insecurities, I will be very disappointed in you. And angry.”

  I didn’t mean to smile, but I was. “I’m glad you love him. And I promise you I’ll do my very best to protect that soft heart he tries to hide. He’s a good man. You raised a good man.”

  She nodded her approval. “Good. Then we’ll protect him together.”

  “Team Dominic,” I agreed. “Unless he insists on continuing to boss me around. There’s no hierarchy outside of the office.”

  “You be sure to remind him of that,” she said with another smile. “So, shall we chat about what happened to your lovely face?”

  54

  Dominic

  When I had burned off enough of my mad with the derpy Brownie and the disgusting, sodden ball of slobber he loved so dearly, I went back inside.

  And found the two most important women in my life looking awfully smug.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, darling,” Mom said, rising from her chair. “I’ve got to get to the office. Get me a disclosure notice today, and I’ll present it. You both should stay home for the day. You look like you could use the rest.” She said the last with a raised eyebrow.

  I walked her to the front door.

  “I’m sorry about this,” I said as I helped her into her coat.

  She turned around and patted my cheek. “Really? Because I’m not. Not in the least.”

  “You don’t have to say that. I know this puts you in a shitty position. I know it looks like a repeat of everything you already went through.”

  “Dominic, my only son is head over heels in love with a woman who challenges him and makes him smile. I’m happy for you.”

  My guts did a cartwheel and didn’t stick the landing. “Hang on. No one said anything about love,” I argued, feeling the icy licks of panic.

  She grinned. “You’re a good, stubborn man who will hopefully get out of his own way someday. Trust your mother on this. You’ve never looked at another woman the way you look at Ally.”

  There were a lot of feelings I had for Ally that I’d never experienced before. Not the least of which was an unholy obsession with her naked body. But I wasn’t inclined to share that with my mother.

  “This is very new. I wouldn’t go throwing labels around,” I said dryly.

  “It’s an awful lot to go through for a woman you just kind of like. Enjoy your day off, darling.”

  She left on a smug, finger-wiggling wave, and I closed the door after her.

  Love? I didn’t understand how the woman who had been systematically humiliated by her husband for decades could still believe in such ridiculous notions. And if she knew I’d played a part in it, I doubted she’d be able to love me back.

  With absolutely nothing settled like it would have been had they let me commit to the obvious solution, I returned to the kitchen.

  Ally was doing the dishes and carrying on a one-sided conversation with Brownie. Fat snowflakes were falling faster outside the windows. A cozy, domestic scene. One that took place in homes across the country, around the world. But never here.

  Something weird and uncomfortably warm bloomed in the center of my chest.

  My first instinct was to squash it, and I went with it. I wasn’t going to fall prey to some adorable domesticity. Not when I was annoyed with her.

  “Do you want to fight first or nap first?” I demanded gruffly.

  Ally looked up from the dishwasher and crossed her arms. “How about an abbreviated fight and then nap?” she suggested. “We can finish up fighting when we’re better rested.”

  “Lady’s choice.” I stepped around the island but kept my distance.

  She nodded. “If this whatever this is is going to work anywhere besides the bedroom—”

  “Relationship, Ally. Say the damn word.”

  Her glare was withering. “Relationship,” she said in a caustic tone that made me want to kiss her until she shut the hell up. “I need to feel like an equal partner. Which means I want my fair share of the decision-making, and I don’t want to be beholden to you financially.”

  “That sounds not completely stupid.” It was fair. It made sense. But it left out the how.

  “Gee, thanks. Your approval means the world to me,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm, slowly closing the distance between us. “Dominic, you’re not my winning lottery ticket. This can’t be based on you being some kind of benefactor to poor little old me.”

  She probably didn’t mean it in the way I took it, but I was looking to stay piss
ed off. “I’m so sorry you don’t think I’m a prize,” I snapped.

  “Stop deliberately misunderstanding me,” she said. “You know damn well I meant that I don’t consider you to be my very own ATM. I don’t want your money. I want you. I want an us. And for there to be an us, I want a say.”

  Okay, so maybe that appeased me a little bit.

  “Fine. How the hell do you propose we actually make that happen?”

  She stepped into me, and I wasn’t certain that she wasn’t going to try to knee me in the nuts. “Oh, look who’s suddenly interested in how,” she said.

  When she moved, I flinched, and a smug smile spread across her face just a second before she slipped her arms around my waist. I was used to the bickering, the banter, but this physical affection was… different. Plus, I’d been in fear for my balls.

  “Don’t be an ass.” I wrapped her up and tucked her head under my chin.

  “How do normal people do this? Who’s in charge of what? How do they assume debts or keep assets separate without pissing each other off?”

  Ally sighed against me. “I know you’re trying to be a smartass right now, but to be honest, I don’t really know how the dynamics of a long-term relationship work. Neither one of us has a solid example from childhood. Maybe it depends on the people in it having an ongoing conversation?”

  “Fine. We’re conversing. What do you want a say in?”

  “Everything that affects me that doesn’t involve your money,” she shot back.

  “Ally, I don’t want my… you lying awake at night trying to figure out if you need to skip meals to make ends meet.” I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to take her worries and concerns and problems and solve every last one of them so she could focus all of her attention on me. And Brownie of course. I wasn’t a completely selfish monster.

  She was going to argue with me again, but I was suddenly too tired to fight it out.

  “Look, can we figure this out later?” I asked. I didn’t want her drawing lines when I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to redraw them properly.

  She would live here. She would have anything and everything she needed. No one would ever take advantage of her or lay a hand on her ever again. End of fucking story. I was her Prince Fucking Charming.

  “Okay. But only because I’m so tired I’m seeing two of you.” She sighed.

  “Come on,” I said, taking her arm and leading her up the stairs.

  Brownie bolted ahead of us.

  “We’re just sleeping, right?” Ally asked as we turned into the bedroom.

  “Just sleeping,” I agreed, dragging my shirt over my head. “Naked sleeping.”

  “How’s your hydration?” she asked, pulling off her sweatshirt to reveal the stars of all future fantasies for me, her bare breasts.

  “Great. Totally rehydrated,” I lied. “How’s the soreness?”

  “Hardly feel a thing,” she fibbed. I could tell it wasn’t the truth because her neck flared red like a beacon.

  I took off my pants, my cock already flying like a flag.

  “Just sleep,” I promised, watching as she removed her leggings and underwear. We stared at each other, naked and maybe even a little vulnerable, from opposite sides of the bed.

  The linens were an unholy mess from our gymnastics mere hours ago. So much had changed so quickly, and there was so much more to come.

  But I wouldn’t break that to her now. She’d been through enough for one day… or twelve hours.

  For now, I would settle for holding her while I worked out what needed to happen next.

  We slipped under the blankets, Brownie making himself comfortable at our feet. And when Ally hesitated, I made the decision for her, pulling her against me. Her back to my chest. My face to her hair.

  She hissed out a breath and an honest to God giggle when her ass wiggled against my hard-on.

  “Just sleep,” I promised her again.

  “I won’t be sore forever,” she hinted.

  “Shh,” I ordered, not ready to test my own chivalry or hydration levels.

  She settled against me, sighed, and was fast asleep within minutes.

  Having her in my arms, in my bed, felt foreign. Familiar. Right. Wrong. And everything in between.

  We slept for three hours.

  And when I woke with her round, soft ass pressed against my erection, I thanked my lucky stars. When she rolled over and looked at me with sleepy eyes and “please” on her lips, I promised my soul to whatever deity had delivered her to my bed. And when I slipped inside her slowly, sweetly, when she sighed out my name, I wondered if maybe I’d finally been forgiven for my own sins.

  One thing I knew for sure when I felt her start to surrender was that I was going to fix everything for her. Whether she wanted me to or not.

  55

  Ally

  I was officially living in an alternate universe.

  Not only had I spent the night in Dominic Russo’s bed—and surprisingly snuggly arms—now I was riding with him to work. The streets had been cleared of yesterday’s modest snowfall, leaving the pavement clean and wet.

  A new start. A blank canvas.

  It looked as though there would be one for us too. We’d been summoned.

  By his mother.

  And I wasn’t sure if that was a good or very, very bad thing. HR and management could easily decide to fire us both.

  Or just one of us. And I already knew which one of us that would be.

  Just because Label had made strides since Paul Russo’s reign of terror didn’t mean that the son of the editor-in-chief would be judged on the same level as a lowly admin. Especially not one who admittedly pursued and seduced her boss… while coated in body glitter and shame in a strip club.

  Technically, on paper, I was a Malina.

  A thought that made my skin crawl.

  I leaned forward to check my makeup in the mirror. With the swelling down, the bruising had been easier to hide under a thick coat of concealer and spunky side part.

  “What’s wrong?” Dominic asked from the driver’s seat. The only outward sign of his nerves was the frenetic, silent tapping of his thumb on the wheel.

  “Nothing at all. Just feel like I’m marching toward a firing squad.”

  “You’re not going to get shot,” he assured me.

  “Not that kind of firing squad. Like a ‘you’re no longer employed, pack your shit’ firing squad.”

  Eyes on the road, he took my hand, squeezed it. “Stop worrying,” he insisted.

  “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? You’re so handsome and smart,” I said, heavy on the eyelash-batting sarcasm.

  “Hey, I could have easily fixed this,” he reminded me.

  “Your solution was to quit your job. On what planet was that even an acceptable option?”

  “On the planet where I want to be able to get you naked guilt-free more than I want that job.”

  My lady parts performed a discombobulating quiver. My vagina was fangirling over Dominic Russo.

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. You like working there,” I pointed out.

  He shot me a skeptical side-eye. “What makes you say that?”

  “I think you’re a lot more comfortable at Label than you realize,” I pointed out. “You’ve never once complained about fashion being boring or unnecessary or shallow. If anything, I think you have an appreciation for it. You clearly enjoy working with your mother and Linus. And I’ve seen your face when you get the final mock-ups for the issue.”

  He grunted rather than admitting I was right.

  “Besides, you’re a Russo. You and Dalessandra are building a legacy. I’m the one who has no idea what I’ll do once things are more settled with Dad.”

  “You’ll stay here.” He said it in that annoyingly confident way as if he’d already made the decision for me.

  “I haven’t decided,” I sniffed primly as he pulled into the parking garage.

  “Yes. You have. You’re not setting your
father up in a nursing home and then moving away.”

  Smug Smartypants had me there, and he knew it.

  He swung into a parking spot, and we sat in silence for a beat.

  “I don’t like it when you worry,” he said.

  It was an oddly sweet sentiment coming from him. I opened my mouth to tell him that, but he cut me off.

  “Especially not when there’s an obvious solution.”

  The tiny cartoon hearts orbiting my head popped like balloons. “Are you trying to annoy me?” I asked.

  “I’m pointing out that by ignoring my solution, you’re setting yourself up for unnecessary discomfort. No matter what, people will talk.”

  I shifted on the heated leather seat to face him. “Dom, of course people are going to talk. Trying to avoid being a topic of conversation is a pretty lame way to live life. Sometimes, accepting the discomfort is how good things are earned.”

  “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Or scared. Or hurt. I want to protect you from all of that. I can protect you from all of that. You’re just too damn stubborn to see the light.”

  Bizarrely, those little cartoon hearts reappeared.

  “Dom, as much as you want to, you can’t protect me from everything. And if people want to gossip and speculate about us or our sex life or what I’m going to do after I definitely get fired, let them. I’m not going to lie and hide things in hopes that Malina won’t be hissing insults behind my back.”

  Or more likely to my face.

  “I want this to be worth it to you,” he said, staring straight through the windshield.

  “Are you talking to me or that concrete pillar?”

  He gave an exaggerated eye-roll. “Don’t be a smartass.”

  “Why stop now?” I said, feeling marginally more cheerful.

  “Just don’t worry about this thing today. Whatever they decide, we’ll figure out a way that I can still see you naked and you can still pay your bills.”

  “And they say romance is dead,” I said airily.

  He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me hard. “We’ll make this work,” he promised.