That evening, after work hours, the small café bustled with activity as I stepped inside, scanning the room. My eyes landed on Dominic immediately.
He sat at a corner table, his broad shoulders filling the space, casually sipping his coffee like he didn't have a care in the world.
It unsettled me how someone like him—dangerous, commanding—could look so relaxed.
"You're here already," I said as I approached, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. "Of course I am," he said smoothly, setting his cup down. "Sorry if I kept you waiting. I—"
"Don't apologize," he interrupted, waving me off. "I got here early. Couldn't resist the coffee." Liar. Men like Dominic don't just sit around sipping cappuccinos because they 'can't resist the coffee.'
He was waiting for me. The realization sent a pulse of heat through me. I sat down across from him, suddenly hyper aware of how close we were.
"Dominic Conti," I began, clearing my throat, "I just want to say thank you. You didn't have to step in like that yesterday, but you did, and I—"
"Lexi," he cut me off again, leaning forward. "Drop the formal shit. Just call me Dominic."
I nodded, feeling a little flustered. "Okay… Dominic. Thank you for saving my son and me. If you hadn't been there—" "I don't want to hear it," he said firmly, his gaze intense.
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I can't stand seeing the innocent caught up in shit they don't deserve." "But isn't that… part of your line of work?" I asked cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw tightened, and something flickered in his eyes—anger, maybe regret. "Yeah, but I don't hurt innocents. Ever." I nodded, unsure of what to say to that. "Well, thank you anyway." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Can you stop thanking me now? It's making me fucking uncomfortable. Let's talk about something else."
I raised an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair. "Oh? And what do you want to talk about? I've got all day."
His lips curved into a sly smirk, the kind that made my stomach flip. "I never knew you were a mother."
"Surprised?" I asked, tilting my head.
"A little," he admitted. "Not every day you meet someone like you—a badass detective and a mom. How old is he?" "Max is six," I said, smiling despite myself.
Something shifts in his expression, just for a second.
"And his father?" His tone is casual, but there's an edge to it, like he's treading carefully. "Are you married?"
I stiffened, glancing at my bare hand. "No. My husband… he passed away five years ago."
His expression softened, which I didn't think was possible. "Shit. I'm sorry, Lexi. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," I said quickly, cutting him off this time. "I don't really like talking about it." He nodded, respecting the boundary.
"Fair enough. Let's talk about something else then."
"Something else?" I tease. "Like what? The weather?"
His smirk returned, and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "Like how the hell you're managing to juggle being a detective, a mom, and looking as good as you do."
I rolled my eyes. "Flattery doesn't work on me, Dominic." "Who said I'm flattering you?"
he shot back, leaning forward. "It's the truth. You're tough, smart, dedicated, and a damn good mom. That's rare."
I couldn't help but smile, shaking my head. "You're laying it on thick, aren't you?"
"Not thick enough, apparently," he quipped, his voice dropping a notch. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been to get you out of my fucking head since I met you?"
My cheeks burned, and I looked away. "Do you say that to every woman you meet?"
"Women?" He scoffed, sitting back with a bitter laugh. "I don't have time for relationships. Never have. That's why it pisses me off that I can't stop thinking about you."
"Dominic…" I started, but my words trailed off. "I'm serious, Lexi," he said, his tone softening. "You've got this fire about you—this determination. And don't even get me started on how beautiful you are. It's fucking unfair."
My heart raced, and I forced myself to look at him. "You're impossible, you know that?" "And you like it," he countered, his smirk turning downright devilish.
Before I could respond, he leaned closer, his hand brushing mine on the table.
"Tell me you don't feel it too, Lexi. I'll back off if you do." I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Damn it, why couldn't I think straight around him?
"That's what I thought," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips. He didn't give me time to react before he leaned in, his lips brushing mine.
It was tentative at first, almost as if he was giving me the chance to pull away. But I didn't. The kiss deepened, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.
It was just Dominic—dangerous, relentless, and completely intoxicating. His lips were warm, firm yet soft, and the kiss sent a spark racing through my body.
For a moment, I lost myself in it, my fingers clutching the edge of the table for balance.
Damn it, why did this feel so good? Why did he feel so good? I matched his intensity, leaning into him as our lips moved together in perfect sync.
The world outside the café ceased to exist—no danger, no responsibilities, just this moment. His hand lightly brushed my cheek, and a shiver ran down my spine.
I didn't know how long it lasted, but when I finally pulled back, I was breathless.
My heart was racing, and I could barely meet his gaze. "I… I should get going," I stammered, straightening in my chair and trying to regain my composure.
He leaned back, smirking like he just won the lottery. "Already? I was just starting to enjoy myself." I shook my head, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in my cheeks. "You're impossible, Dominic."
"And you're irresistible, Detective," he fired back without missing a beat. "But I'll miss those lips of yours."
"You're naughty," I said, grabbing my bag and standing up. He tilted his head, his smirk widening into a devilish grin. "You can call me dirty if you want. I don't mind." I rolled my eyes, turning toward the door.
"It was nice meeting you, Dominic." He chuckled, his voice low and smooth. "Nice doesn't even begin to cover it, sweetheart."
I glanced over my shoulder, unable to suppress a small smile. "Goodbye, Dominic."
"Until next time, Detective," he said, his tone dripping with promise. I shook my head and left the café, stepping back into the bustling city streets.
My lips still tingled, and my heart pounded as if I had just run a marathon.
Damn him. Damn his charm, his confidence, and those stupidly soft lips. As I walked away, I couldn't help but think about what had just happened—and what it meant.
To Be Continued...