Christmas Vows with the Devil

8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Dante

The cold air stings my face as I climb into the car. I start the engine, fighting off a shiver.

Gia sits beside me, silent, staring out the window. Tension wraps around us, thick as the snow falling outside.

The roads are slick, and we haven’t even left the driveway yet. I already feel the weight of the day pressing down on us both.

This tension isn’t just about being forced together by her aunts. It’s about the conversation we’ve been avoiding.

Matteo .

She thinks I don’t notice, but I’ve seen the way she stiffens when his name comes up. I’ve noticed the way her eyes dart away when I ask too many questions. She’s hiding something, and I have a damn good guess about what it might be.

I grip the steering wheel tightly as we finally pull onto the main road. The silence stretches between us, thick and uneasy. Snow blankets everything, turning the landscape into a world of white.

But all I can focus on is Gia.

I feel every covert glance she sneaks over in my direction. I notice the rise and fall of her chest. My gaze catches on the rosy pink lip she’s got trapped between her teeth.

"You could’ve stayed at the lodge," I say, breaking the silence.

"I needed a break." Her voice is tight. Distant.

I can't blame her. It seems like neither of us wants to be here all that much. I take the opportunity to push through.

"Matteo," I start slowly. "He’s what, six?"

Her shoulders stiffen, but she nods. “Yeah, six.”

I keep my voice casual. "Smart kid."

“He is.” She’s quick to say it. She’s too defensive.

"He reminds me of someone."

Her eyes snap to mine, narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrug. “He just...looks familiar.”

Gia shifts in her seat, her hands balling into fists in her lap. "Lots of kids look like other people. Doesn't mean anything."

She’s avoiding it. Typical Gia. Always running, always hiding. But I’m not letting it go this time.

"I’m just saying," I continue, trying to keep things light, “his smile, his eyes…”

"Stop." Her voice is sharp, cutting me off.

I hold up my hand up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Just making conversation."

Her jaw tightens, and she turns back to the window. "Talk about something else."

Fine .

For now, I let it drop, but the thoughts linger. Matteo. Six years old. Born not long after she left. The pieces are starting to click into place, but I need more.

I need her to admit it.

I’m terrified that he’s mine. I’m terrified that he’s not.

It’s a lose-lose situation any way you look at it. The idea of Gia being with someone else so soon after she left me sends a pulse of anger through me, but the thought of having a child is almost scary to me.

The snow falls more heavily as we drive, the road narrowing ahead. My struggling windshield wipers can’t keep up, and the car jerks as we hit a patch of ice. Gia grips the door handle, her knuckles white.

“Careful,” she mutters.

I smirk. “Don’t trust my driving?”

“I don’t trust this weather,” she snaps back.

The storm’s picking up, and visibility’s getting worse. I lean forward, squinting through the snow. We barely make it into town before I notice that the streets are deserted.

“Everyone must have hunkered down for the storm,” she says, pressing her face to the glass to get a better look.

As I pull up in front of the first shop, Gia lets out a groan. “It’s closed.”

“Great,” I mutter. “One down, four to go.”

We drive to the next place. Closed. The next one is too.

With each stop, Gia’s frustration grows.

“This is ridiculous,” she huffs. “We should’ve stayed home.”

I kill the engine, leaning back in my seat. “You’re the one who wanted to get out.”

"Yeah, well, I didn’t think a sprinkle of snow would shut down the entire town down."

I watch her gnaw on her bottom lip, her frustration simmering. Even like this, she’s beautiful.

I would give anything to run my fingers through the inky black waves of her hair and feel her lips on mine.

I shake the thought away, trying to focus. We’ve got one more stop to try. But the second we pull back onto the road, the car jerks.

The tires spin in place. I press the gas again. The tires just spin in place again.

"What the hell?" I mutter, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Gia lets out a groan. "Are we stuck?"

I throw the car into reverse and try again, but the wheels spin uselessly.

"Great," she mutters. "What now?"

Snow crunches under my boots as I step out and inspect the situation. The car is wedged deep in a snowbank, the tires buried. No way we’re getting out without some work.

"We’re stuck," I say, shaking off the snow as I climb back in.

"Well, what do we do now? Can we call someone?" Her voice is sharp, her irritation rising.

She grabs her phone, stabbing a dainty finger against the screen, and then throws it onto the dash in annoyance.

“Of course, no signal.”

"I’ll get us out." I try shifting into gear again, but the car doesn’t budge. “Stay inside. I’ll dig.”

I grab the small shovel from the trunk, cursing under my breath.

This day is going to hell fast.

As I try to clear the snow around the tires, the wind cuts through my jacket. The snow falls harder by the second. I swear the universe is conspiring to make this worse.

Gia steps out of the car, ignoring my earlier instructions. “Let me help.”

“Get back in the car.”

“No, I’m not just going to sit there and freeze while you play hero.”

Her stubbornness grates on me, but it’s not the time for that. “Fine. Help me shove then.”

She grabs the spare shovel and starts working, but we’re barely making a dent. The snow is heavy, icing over as temperatures drop.

"This isn’t working," she mutters.

"Yeah, I noticed."

We drop the shovels, both of us panting, cold seeping into our bones. Gia rubs her hands together, blowing on them to keep warm.

"We’re going to have to wait it out," I say, glancing up at the darkening sky.

“Wait? In the car? For how long?”

"Until we can get help.”

"This is a shitshow."

I grit my teeth. "You got any better ideas?"

"No," she admits, eyes flicking away.

We climb back into the car. It’s not much warmer inside, but at least we’re out of the wind. The windows fog up almost immediately, isolating us from the outside world.

The tension that’s been building all day thickens between us.

Gia crosses her arms, staring out the window. I can feel the weight of her beside me, every breath, every shift of her body.

She lets out a frustrated breath, running a hand through her hair. Her knee bounces nervously like she can’t sit still.

"Stop fussing."

"Stop staring at me."

I lean back in my seat, forcing myself to relax. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You’ve always been so damn stubborn."

She glares at me. "I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t so...arrogant all the time."

I bark out a laugh. "Arrogant? I’m just trying to fix the damn situation."

Her eyes flash. "It’s not just the situation, Dante. It’s everything. You think you can just come back into my life and..."

"And what?" I lean in closer, unable to stop myself.

"And act like nothing happened."

We’re inches apart now, our breaths mingling in the cold air. Her eyes are blazing with anger, but there’s something else there too. Something that makes my blood heat despite the freezing temperature.

"I never said nothing happened," I murmur, my voice low.

Her lips part, but no words come out. For a moment, neither of us moves. The space between us crackles with tension, on the verge of something explosive.

And then, in one quick motion, Gia jerks back.

"Dante, don’t."

But I don’t stop. I can’t. I lean in, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath on my skin.

"Tell me you don’t feel it," I whisper.

She inhales sharply, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her eyes are locked on mine, wide and uncertain.

"Tell me you don’t want this."

Her eyes flutter, lips parting slightly. She’s on the edge of letting go, I can feel it.

I slip my fingers into her hair, running a thumb along her jaw, and she moans. The sweet sound pushes me forward.

Our lips meet, gently at first. But desire floods my body and we’re battling for dominance in seconds.

The kiss is aggressive, filled with long-buried emotions.

Anger. Regret. Betrayal. Lust.

“Gia.” I slide my other hand into her jacket, pulling her closer to me. She’s gripping my neck like she never wants to let go. Her breath warms the space between us. I can practically feel her heart racing.

Heaven. I forgot what heaven feels like.

A heavy pounding on the windshield shatters the moment. We fly apart like we’ve been caught doing something illegal.

I clear my throat, trying to get myself under control, and roll down the window.

“You kids need any help?”

I stare at the jolly, wrinkled face smiling down at me. The man has a long, scraggly white beard, a bright red hat, and sparkling blue eyes.

"Are we being rescued by goddamn Old Saint Nick himself?” I mutter under my under my breath. Didn’t think he’d come out to save the devil himself , I think uncharitably.

“I was driving down—saw you stuck in the bank. I thought I’d help.”

“Sure, yeah,” I stutter. “We’d appreciate that.”

I climb out of the car, following our Santa Claus-esque hero to the back of the SUV. He pulls out several pieces of cardboard, and we get to work.

By the time we dig out each tire enough to wedge some cardboard underneath, I’m sweating.

Or maybe it’s just the Gia effect.

“All right, now you get inside and slowly ease the car back,” he winks. “Let’s get your pretty wife out of this mess and get you two back home.”

I choke and force a smile.

We finally manage to slowly reverse the car out. Santa Claus gives us a friendly wave as he heads back to his truck.

“You kids be careful out there!”

We tread the snow and ice to our last location at a snail’s pace. Silence fills the car after we get back inside, suffocating me.

"I can’t do this, Dante," she whispers suddenly, her voice trembling.

I grit my teeth. "Why not?"

"Because I can’t. I don’t want to get involved with you again."

Her words hit hard, but I don’t flinch. I watch the conflict play out in her eyes.

She wants this. I know she does. But something’s holding her back.

"Is it about Matteo?" I ask, my voice quieter now. "Is that what this is about?"

Her breath hitches, and I see the flicker of panic in her eyes.

“There!” She ignores my question. “That’s the butcher’s shop. Pull over.”

I’ve barely slowed down before she leaps out, desperate to get away from me. I can see the closed sign hanging over the door, but it doesn’t stop her.

The second she steps out of the car, she slips. I barely have time to react before she’s on the ground.

A gasp escapes her lips as her knee buckles underneath her.

“Gia!” I’m out of the car, slipping through the snow like a madman.

“I’m fine,” she mutters, wincing as she touches her knee.

I crouch down beside her, my hands hovering over her, unsure of where to touch. “You’re not fine.”

“It’s just a little slip,” she insists. But her face is pale, and I can see the pain etched into her features.

“Let me help you.”

“I don’t need…”

But before she can finish, I scoop her up in my arms. She gasps, her hands instinctively grabbing onto my shoulders.

The feel of her body pressed against mine sends a lightning bolt of awareness through me. Ignore it , I command myself.

“Dante, put me down.”

“Not a chance.” I carry her back to the car, cradling her close. She’s light, her warmth seeping through my jacket.

It’s too much.

It’s all too familiar, and I don’t want to let go.

I set her down on the passenger seat, gently closing the door behind her. She’s glaring at me, but there’s something else in her eyes.

Something she’s trying to hide.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she mutters as I slide into the driver’s seat.

“I didn’t have to,” I agree, starting the car, “but I wanted to.”

She doesn’t respond, just rubs her knee, wincing slightly. My chest tightens at the sight of her in pain.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, softer this time.

She shrugs. “I’ll live.”

We sit in silence for a moment. The engine and the snow hitting the windshield the only sounds filling the space between us.

The tension is palpable and heavy like we’re both on the edge of something we’re not ready to admit.

“Were you always this stubborn?” I ask, breaking the silence.

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “I’m sure you can answer that question.”

Yeah, I can.

It’s one of the things I loved about her. Still love about her—though I’ll never admit it.

I steal another glance at her. The way she’s sitting there, rubbing her knee, her lip caught between her teeth...it’s doing things to me. I’m feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling.

“Gia.” My voice is low, rough.

“Drive the car, Dante.”

For a moment, neither of us says anything. The air between us is charged with something electric. Something dangerous.

Before I can stop myself, I reach over, my hand brushing against her leg. She inhales sharply, her eyes locked on mine.

I don’t know why I’m doing this, why I can’t stop myself. I need to be closer to her, to feel her against me again.

“Dante...” Her voice is a warning, but she doesn’t pull away.

I lean in, closing the distance between us. My hand moves higher, resting on her thigh. She trembles under my touch, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“I can’t do this.”

She pushes me away lightly and I feel like I’ve been doused in cold water.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

We drive in silence, the tension between us thicker than ever. My mind races, thoughts of Matteo swirling alongside the memory of her body pressed against mine.

It’s too much, all of it.

The secrets, the lies.

But now that I’ve tasted her again, there’s no way in hell I’m giving her up.