Page 29 of Luca

As we’re walking across the street, her heel gets caught in the cracked pavement and she nearly topples face-first into the road. My arm shoots out, and I grab her around the waist before she falls, smashing her body into mine.

“You okay?” I ask, looking down at her wide eyes, my arm still banded around her middle.

“Uh-huh,” she pants out, and I see the vein in her neck pulse violently beneath her skin. “Damn heels.”

Making sure she’s as steady as she can be, with one foot in her shoe and the other balancing on her tiptoes, I kneel down and pull the heel of her shoe from the deep crack in the pavement. Her hand moves to my shoulder to steady herself while she lifts her foot and slips it back into the heel I’m holding for her.

“Thank you,” she whispers and my gaze collides with hers. A charged moment passes between us, completely catching me off guard. Her amber eyes are glued to mine. For some reason, I can’t seem to tear my hand from the soft skin of her ankle, even though her shoe is back in place.

“If you stay down there much longer, people are going to think you’re proposing,” Giada says, a half smile gracing her lips.

I stand and swivel my head dramatically like I’m searching for something. “What people?” A grin tilts the corner of my mouth when I offer her my elbow. “I’d rather not have to take you back home with a busted lip.” Giada gives me a flat look but loops her arm through mine just the same.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of her body as she walks next to me. She allows me to open the door to the bar before moving my hand to the small of her back to lead her to a table in the corner. The place is dark and narrow with old wood paneling covering the walls that have booths running the length of the building and several scarred tables with worn vinyl chairs down the center. The bar has one man behind it sipping from a coffee cup who looks less than thrilled to have patrons this early. The reason Finn likes it here is because it has no affiliation to the Cataldis or the Monaghans. Here, we were just two guys catching up. That doesn’t mean I’m going to sit in the middle of a bar with my back exposed, though.

“What do you want to drink?” I ask Giada as she slides into the corner booth.

“Vodka and cranberry please.”

I quirk a brow.

“What?” she asks.

“That’s just so…girly.”

Giada rolls her eyes. “I like what I like. Girly or not.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I walk to the bar and order her a drink and myself a soda water before fishing a twenty from my pocket and getting change for the jukebox.

“Here you go. They didn’t have any umbrellas,” I say, handing her the drink.

“What do you have against my drink?”

“Nothing. It’s exactly what I thought you’d like.”

“Well, what are you drinking?”

“Soda water. I’m technically on the clock.”

Giada shoots me a sad smile. “Pretty pathetic that I’m sitting in a bar at eleven in the morning drinking with my bodyguard the day after my father was arrested.”

I shrug and sit across from her. “Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

I lean back and sip my soda. “I’m not judging you, Giada. It was a shit night followed by an even shittier morning. If you need a minute to gather yourself, this place is as good as any. Here.” I set the stack of ones on the table and nod toward the opposite corner where an old jukebox sits. “Have at it.”

This time her smile is happy as she grabs a couple bills and heads over to pick out some music.

When she returns an old song from the sixties is playing through the bar. She slides back into the booth and sips her cocktail.

“Not what I expected,” I comment.

She rolls her eyes. “What? You don’t approve of my music selection, either.”

“I didn’t say that. I actually like the oldies. I didn’t think you did.”

“You don’t really know me all that well, do you?” Her brow rises in a challenge for me to disagree.

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