“Tell me about your husband,” Dante said suddenly.
Mary glanced around with surprise at the request and then turned forward again. She opened her mouth to say no, and instead found herself saying, “He was a good man.”
When she didn’t continue, Dante asked, “How did you meet?”
“We were high school sweethearts,” she answered solemnly. “My first kiss, my first date, my first everything.”
He seemed to consider that and then asked, “Do you ever feel like you missed out? Not getting to date other men or experience—?”
“No,” Mary interrupted. She’d been asked the question before. Usually by younger people who seemed horrified that she hadn’t kissed and slept with loads of men before settling down with Joe. “I was very lucky. Some women go their whole life searching for, but never finding their perfect life mate. I was lucky enough to find mine before I was even looking.”
“Life mate?” Dante asked and something about his tone of voice made her glance curiously his way.
“Yes,” she murmured, noting his odd expression before glancing back to the road. “Mate for life. I could have said husband, I suppose, or dream man, but dream man sounds stupid, and husband just doesn’t cover all that Joe was to me.” She paused briefly, and then said, “I suppose life partner is the better description. He was my partner in every sense, my best friend, my lover, my husband, my cohort in crime,” she ended with a grin.
“Crime?” Dante sounded shocked and she chuckled at his tone of voice.
“Not criminal type crime,” she assured him. “We weren’t Bonnie and Clyde or anything. I just meant, if there was a prank to be pulled, or a gag joke . . .” She shrugged. “We had the same sense of humor and laughed a lot over the years.”
“It sounds . . . perfect,” Dante said, and she noted that he sounded less than pleased to say so.
“No,” she said solemnly. “Nothing is perfect. Not even my Joe. But after a couple of bumps in the beginning we had a good life.”
“What kind of bumps?” Dante asked at once, sounding almost eager.
Mary hesitated, very old, very painful memories welling up inside her, but then she merely shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. No one is perfect, Dante.”
They were both silent for a moment. Dante was eating and Mary was shifting her attention between the road and her own sandwich, trying to figure out how the hell she was going to eat it. She hadn’t come up with anything by the time Dante finished his sandwiches and headed back to set the plate in the sink. At least, she hoped he put it in the sink. It would go flying at the first turn or stop if he didn’t, she thought, and risked a glance over her shoulder. Her attention was caught then as she noted the RV had been cleaned up. There were no more items littering the floor. Everything had been stowed away and all the doors and drawers were now closed once more.
“Eyes on the road,” Dante said mildly, catching her looking when he turned to head back toward the front seats.
Mary turned forward again, but said, “Thank you for cleaning up.”
“It was my fault,” Dante said simply as he reached her side. He didn’t immediately take his seat again, however, but scooted Bailey out of the way, and knelt where the dog had been lying.
Mary glanced warily toward him to see that he was eyeing her solemnly.
“You are tired,” he announced. “And no doubt hungry.”
“I’m fine,” Mary said quietly.
“I can either feed you, or I will take over driving. Your choice.”
“I’m fine,” Mary repeated, swallowing nervously as she considered both options.
“You are afraid because you are attracted to me,” Dante announced with amusement and Mary scowled at the road.
“Someone has an ego on them,” she growled. “I am not attracted to you. You’re a child. I’m an older woman. I like big boys.”
“I am a big boy,” Dante said easily, managing not to sound like a braggart as he stated the obvious. And it was obvious. The man stood at least six feet eight, and his shoulder breadth was breathtaking. He was like a wall beside her, even on his knees.
“I meant a grown-up,” she said irritably.
“I am older than I look,” he assured her mildly. “And I know you are attracted to me. Your heart rate and breathing pick up every time I am near you.”
Mary glanced at him sharply at that comment, and froze when she noted that the silver flecks in his black eyes appeared to have at least doubled in number. It almost seemed like they were glowing too, she noted faintly.
“The road,” he reminded her and Mary tore her gaze from him to concentrate on the road again, but she couldn’t get his eyes out of her mind. She’d never seen eyes like his before. So deep and dark and beautiful at first, and now glowing with silver like fine jewels.
“You must eat,” Dante announced and her sandwich suddenly appeared in front of her face.