Page 4 of Stone’s Revenge

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The constant flow of customers helps keep my mind off him, but I can feel his eyes on me at every turn. He pushes his plate aside as if to indicate he’s done. The arugula still fills the plate, but the pears, candied walnuts, and goat cheese are gone. Weird man. I ask him if he wants a refill of coffee, to which he shakes his head, and I take out his bill.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Your name?”

“My–” I pause a beat, then set the bill in front of him. If I don’t tell him, it would mean there was a reason not to. He probably heard Franky and Danielle call my name a dozen times when my orders were up anyway. “My name’s Gia.”

“It’s...nice to meet you, Gia.”

My name purrs off his tongue, slow and languid. I swallow and have the sudden need to clench my thighs. The man’s lip curls again, like he can sense the way I responded to his voice. Hell, I need to stop reading romances at night.

“Sure. Have a good day.” I turn to leave and don’t make it one step before a strong hand grips my wrist. I freeze and quickly assess the room. Every customer carries on eating their meals and having conversations as if nothing precarious was happening behind me. That doesn’t mean I’m safe.

Sonny had taught me a few self-defense moves. I could swivel around, ram my elbow into his jugular before slamming my knee into his balls.

“Gia,” he whispers behind me, close enough so I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. He loosens his grip on my wrist and I quickly bring it to my chest, covering it with my free hand. “Join me for dinner tonight.”

“What?” I spin around and gawk at the seriousness behind his eyes.

“Dinner. Tonight.”

I open my mouth to reject his offer, but I’m drawn in by those eyes again. My gaze travels to his neck then lowers to his chest. It twitches as if aware of my inward lust.

When I return my gaze to his, I catch him staring at my lips. I lick them, but not in a seductive way since I don’t have a clue how to be seductive.

“Fuck.” The man takes a step back and pulls a wad of cash from his pocket, dropping a few bills on the table without looking at them. Then he leaves.

“Nice tip, Gia. What’d you do? Give the guy a hand job under the table?”

“Melinda!”

“Sorry. Forgot how sickly pure you are.” She blows me a kiss before sauntering off to her table. Melinda’s always teasing me about not having a social life. She knows that when I’m not working, I’m caring for my mom, and likes to poke fun at me for being a bore, but it’s all in fun. I know she likes me well enough.

Not that I’m in the business of making friends or going out on dates.

I stack the empty cup on top of the plate of lettuce and scoop up the cash. “Holy shit.” I rub the two hundred-dollar bills between my fingers before shoving them deep inside the pocket of my apron.

I can’t decide if I’m freaked out or intrigued. I’ll forever be on edge, wondering if the people I encounter work for Lorenzo. Most of my innocence had been stripped from me more years ago than I care to count. The small piece of it I have left, I’ll hold on to for as long as I can.

Forever, if possible.


Tags: Emery Quinn Romance