Say Yes To The Fake Date (How To Win At Love #3)

4. Dominic

4

DOMINIC

As soon as I took Lucy home, I dropped off the van I was towing and then went to pick up her car. I felt rushed, as if she was going to have someone else take care of it and pick it up before I did, but I knew that wasn’t a worry I should have because I still had her keys in my pocket.

I worked through the night, and instead of sleeping upstairs in my apartment, I slept on the sofa downstairs in the shop. I knew she wouldn’t sneak in through the night and try to take the car or anything, but I foolishly felt better being close to something that was hers.

As I stretched out the muscles in my back this morning, I knew it was a bad choice, but I didn’t care. I got up early and started working on Lucy’s car. The fuel pump was already fixed, but I spent the morning putting on new tires, giving it an oil change, and everything else I can see that needed to be fixed. I have three other cars that I should be working on, but instead I don’t go far from Lucy’s. I definitely don’t want to be somewhere else when she comes.

All I’ve thought about all day is the bruise on her face. Why didn’t I pay attention when her mom told me who Lucy was engaged to?

I’m under the hood, replacing her battery when I hear my employee, Jake, holler my name. “Dom!”

I know what he wants before he says anything else. I know that Lucy is here. I secure the battery, lower the hood, and am wiping off my hands when Jake comes around the corner with Lucy behind him. “Dom, you have a visitor.”

With my eyes on Lucy, I say, “Thanks, Jake.”

He looks between the two of us and finally walks back across the garage, but I pay him no mind because my eyes are glued to Lucy. She looks more rested, and it looks like she tried to hide her bruises even though I feel like I’ll never unsee them.

“How you doing?”

She shrugs. “I told you not to fix my car.”

“Your car is ready. ”

She points to the other side of the garage. “Your friend said you’ve been working on it all day. Tires, battery, fuel pump.”

She’s angry, and I should feel bad that I love to see the fire in her eyes even though it’s directed at me.

“It was no big deal.”

She rubs her hand across her face, and she must not realize that she wipes off some of the makeup covering her bruise. I bristle seeing the marred skin.

“Dom, listen, I didn’t want you to fix the car because I don’t have the money to pay for it right now. I had to hire an attorney this morning, and it took all the money I had, but I promise that—”

I take a step toward her. “Why did you need to hire an attorney?”

She crosses her arms over her chest defensively.

“Lucy, why did you hire an attorney?”

She doesn’t want to tell me, but after a few seconds, she starts to talk. She won’t look at me, and I can see that as the story unfolds, she’s embarrassed to be in the situation she’s in. “I own a marketing company with my now ex-fiancé. I confronted him after I caught him having sex with our secretary. He gave me this”—she points at her face—“and then emptied out the company bank accounts.”

I take a step toward her and fist my hands at my sides. “A name. Just give me a name, and I’ll take care of it.”

Why can’t she look me in the eye? She keeps looking over my shoulder. She avoids my question altogether. “As you can see, I don’t have the money for my car, so I will come and get it as soon as I do. I’m sorry that you fixed it and I don’t have the money to—”

“Take the car, Lucky.”

Her eyes widen, and I wait for her to argue with me or get pissed that I’m using her nickname from the past, but instead, a single tear rolls down her cheek, and she wipes it away. “I’m not feeling too lucky right now.”

I take a step toward her, and when she doesn’t tense up, I take another. We’re so close I can breathe in her jasmine scent. It’s intoxicating. I reach for her and stop just inches from having my hands at her waist. “Let me hold you.”

She freezes then, and I see the need in her eyes. She needs to be held. “No strings attached, Lucky. Just let me hold you.”

“I’m fine,” she insists .

“Lucky,” I say softly.

She finally looks at me, and I can see how deep the hurt is. She’s on the verge of breaking, and I can’t just stand by and let her fall apart. I pull her to me, and she fights. She struggles in my arms, but I can’t let her go. I won’t.

Calmly, I try to soothe her. I have one arm around her shoulders, and the other one strokes up and down her back. “Let me hold you, Lucky. That’s all I want. Just let me do this.”

She doesn’t want to give in, but finally, she stops fighting me. Her hands are gripping the front of my shirt as she leans her forehead against my chest. I can feel the fight give out in her, and I haul her against me. She wraps her arms around my waist and cries into my shoulder, jolting with each sob that wracks through her body. She’s crying so hard her body is trembling, and I’ve never felt so lost in my life. I want to take all her pain away, and knowing that I’ve contributed to hurting her makes it all that much worse.

I walk her a few steps to my office, kick the door shut, and then sit down on the couch, pulling her with me. I hold her like I would a child, and she just continues to sob. I hold her a little too hard probably, but I don’t know what else to do. Luciana is a strong woman, she always has been, but seeing her like this is too much to bear.

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

I stroke her back, repeating soft words of encouragement. I’m not sure how much time passes, but her cries start to slow down until she’s sniffling against my chest. She doesn’t raise her head, but she murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

I lock my arms around her. “Oh, Lucky, don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

I don’t let her finish. “Stop, it’s okay.”

She puts her hands on my chest and pushes back so she can look at me. “This doesn’t change anything. I haven’t forgiven you—”

I nod and wince as I look at her. Not only are her eyes red and puffy from crying, but she’s now covered in grease from my coveralls. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. I should be the one saying I’m sorry.”

She stiffens in my arms, and I know she’s putting her guard up. She doesn’t want to talk about our past, and she’s not going to listen to my apologies. I gesture to the grease stain that is now on her shirt. “I was trying to help, but I’ve covered you in grease. I’m sorry. ”

She looks down at her shirt and surprises me with a smile. “It’s okay. A stained shirt is the least of my worries.”

She pushes against me to stand up, and I wish I could hold on to her and keep her where she’s at, but I release her. She stands up, shifting back and forth on her feet and then leans against the edge of my desk.

I stand up, grab the keys for her car off the hook, walk over to her, and drop the keys into her palm. “Take your car. I don’t want your money.”

She clenches them in her hand. “I don’t want to owe you, Dominic, and if I take this car without paying you, I’m going to owe you.”

“You won’t owe me anything.”

She shakes the keys in her hand and then holds them out to me. When I don’t reach for them, she puts them on the desk. “I’ll be back to get my car when I have the money to pay for it.”

She walks away from me, and she has that look on her face again that tells me she could start crying in an instant. I’ve only seen her like this one other time, and it’s the time I pushed her away and said I never wanted to see her again. I was lying to her then. Hell, I would have given anything to keep her with me forever, but in that instant, I knew I had to do right by her, and being with me was the worst thing for her.

She walks past the garage doors and keeps walking. I want to stop her, but I let her go. I’ll get the car to her, but I’m going to wait to do it so that I won’t make her cry. I’ve hurt her too much already, and I vow not to do it anymore.