Page 25 of The Breaker
Scared of everything.
There was only one man I’d ever met who made me feel safe, but I was even afraid to tell him.
Once everything was prepped for the day and we opened our doors, I headed to the other side of the building where the main restaurant was located. People came in for lunch, and I seated them at tables and took their orders. Waitressing was a lot easier than prepping in the morning because I got to write everything down and give it to one of the cooks to prepare. The rest of the time, I just tried to stay busy.
The lunch rush ended and the tables cleared out, so I wiped them down for the dinner crew that came in before five. We were open for another forty-five minutes, but people hardly ever came in for lunch past one.
But then the door opened, and Constantine walked inside. Dressed in a black T-shirt and dark jeans, he helped himself to one of the tables—with the biggest smile on his face. “Hey, sweetheart.” A six-foot-five, tremendous hunk with arms that nearly split his sleeves, he was the juiciest piece of man meat ever.
I was a little taken aback by the sight of him, particularly his mood. I’d gone to bed last night and pretended to be asleep when he came in. So we didn’t talk, and I left earlier than usual this morning and took a cab to work. This was our first interaction since that tense conversation over dinner, but it was as if it had never happened. “Hey.” I approached the table, unsure what I missed, why he was a whole different person, but I didn’t dare ask. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in town and decided to stop by for lunch.” He dropped his arm over the other chair, completely relaxed, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “And I thought I could watch your ass shake while you hustle.”
I was still shocked by all of this. It took me a couple seconds to accept this reality. When I’d first seen him, I felt that jolt of anxiety, like he was here to confront me about last night. But that didn’t seem like his intention.
“Come here.” His hand moved to my hip, and he guided me to his lap.
“I’m at work—”
He slid his hand into my hair and kissed me, kissed me like we were at home with no one around. Like he didn’t give a damn if anyone saw us.
The second I felt the command of his mouth and the softness of his kiss, I lost all restraint. I didn’t care if his own mother walked in and saw us together, my ass on his lap in the middle of the restaurant.
When he pulled away, he gently brushed his nose against mine before he kissed the corner of my mouth. “All right, now you can get back to work.” His grin was big, beautiful, and infectious. It brought a twinkle to his eyes, a warmth hotter than the Sicilian sun.
I got off his lap and felt his big hand give my ass a playful smack.
“I’ll take the Palermo-style cutlet,” he said. “And a glass of red wine.”
“Sure thing.”
He winked at me. “Attagirl.”
I turned away and headed back to the kitchen to put in the order, but I felt his eyes drill into my back, hot and possessive, like we’d just met all over again. I glanced over my shoulder and saw exactly what I predicted—but there was also a smile.
I got him a glass of wine and returned to the table.
He kicked out the chair across from him. “Sit.”
“Well, I’m at work.”
“Doing what, exactly?” He looked around the dining room. “No one’s here, all the tables are clean. Now sit that fine ass down.”
“Fine ass, huh?” In a couple months, my fine ass would be a big ass. I took a seat across from him and crossed my legs, my arms on the table.
He took a drink of his wine and relaxed in the chair.
“Constantine!” Antonio shouted from the kitchen. “I’m making this for you?”
“Yeah, and it better be damn good,” Constantine yelled back.
“Only the best for you, man.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He turned back to me, still smiling like it was permanently carved into his face. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” He cocked his head slightly as he looked at me, his smile slowly fading from his mouth but remaining in his gaze, looking at me like he’d never really looked at me before.
“Okay, what’s gotten into you?”
“Gotten into me?” he asked, eyebrows cocked.
