Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone Page 0,67

than to try to get him to continue.

“That’s exactly what I want, including a Golden Retriever.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he breathed, sending shivers dancing down my legs.

“Well, maybe the ideal way of life is to have both. A few trinkets are very nice to have, but ones I choose to purchase.”

Another thirty seconds of awkward silence flowed between us. We were both still so guarded.

Chuckling, he took my hand. “Do you trust me?”

“It depends on what we’re talking about.”

“Tsk. Tsk. Doctor. You have little faith.” He tugged me another block before nodding toward the colorful building on the corner. “This is my favorite pizza joint in the entire world. It has the best pizza on the East Coast.”

“Hmmm... I’ll have to be the judge of that.” I gazed at the awning hanging over the massive front door, windows banking both streets. I could see there were dozens, maybe a couple hundred people inside. The place was packed, people raising glasses and laughing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually been to a restaurant with a group of friends, simply enjoying the company.

As we walked inside, the aromas became intoxicating almost immediately. Garlic. Tomato sauce. Pepper. Oregano. And fresh bread. My stomach churned and I realized I hadn’t eaten in hours. While the walls were covered in dark paneling, there were well-lit pictures of celebrities from various decades. Tiffany-style lamps were placed over the tables, the warm red globes adding to the dim but comfy atmosphere.

“This is amazing,” I whispered, uncertain he’d even heard me.

When he squeezed my hand, he lowered his head, his whisper husky. “As I said, trust me. I might just surprise you.”

The truth was that he already had.

While there was no fanfare about his arrival, it was obvious he’d either called ahead or made certain his presence would be well taken care of. We were led to a booth in the back, the rugged wooden pieces having seen better days. As I sat down, I could sense he was studying me once again.

There were no menus placed on the table and within seconds, two draft beers were placed in front of us. When I gave him a quizzical look, he leaned over. “I took the liberty of ordering for us.”

“What other surprises do you have in store tonight?” I asked, unable to keep from smiling. This was the last thing I would have expected.

“Hmmm... I guess you’re going to have to remain a good little girl in order to find out.”

“You, Master Michael, are a mean man.”

“Master Michael. That has a ring to it. I think you’re going to need to call me that from now on.”

I took the opportunity to lean over the table, shaking my head beseechingly slowly. “Over my dead body.”

He burst out laughing, the sound more refreshing that he would have any idea about. It was the first time that I’d seen him relaxed on any level. “And that might be grounds for another round of discipline,” he countered and lifted his beer mug. “Cheers, Sophia. Tonight, I hope that you can learn to trust me.”

I touched my mug against his, embracing the seriousness of his words. “I will try. And here’s to the best pizza pie up and down the East Coast.”

“I think you’re going to agree.”

“I’m a tough critic.”

“Bring it on, baby.”

I was pleasantly surprised at the way the conversation went as we waited for the pizza to arrive. We were finally able to relax, our discussions ranging from likes and dislikes to locations where we’d traveled. I found that I genuinely liked the man. Once he’d let me in to some degree, allowing me to forget why we’d come to the city in the first place.

While the amazing pizza took center stage for almost twenty minutes as we stuffed our mouths, his eyes were never far from me, gazing across the table, watching everything I did. When I couldn’t eat another bite, I finally eased back against the solid wood bench, gazing out at the crowd.

“Do you ever wonder what kind of lives people lead?” I asked out of the blue.

“The same kind of life that we all do. People trying to get by, finding a reason to get up every morning.”

“You sound so sad, Michael. You have so much more than others do in their little worlds, but you can’t find happiness.”

“Happiness is fleeting. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

“So have I.”

A quiet tension settled between us. I hated it.

“Who was he?” he