Stumbling into Love
Page 12

His eyes roam my face, then the thick scarf wrapped around my neck, and move down over my long, black wool coat. It hits me midthigh, covering my sweater and jeans.
“You look beautiful.”
I want to kiss him for the easy way he made that compliment, but I don’t. I shake my head instead and squeeze his hand. “I have on a sweater and jeans.”
“It’s okay. There isn’t a dress code here,” he says.
Judging by the way everyone else in the restaurant is dressed, I have to disagree with him. They might not have a formal dress code, but I have no doubt they will frown at my choice of clothing the minute I take off my coat.
“What are you doing?” I ask when he starts to lead me back toward the door we just entered moments before.
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I can tell that you are.”
“But you made a reservation.”
“Yeah, and I can make another one another time.” He opens the door, leading me back outside.
“Are you sure?”
He stops on the sidewalk, turns me in his arms to face him, and dips his face toward mine until we are eye to eye. “Tonight is just about us spending time together, us getting to know each other. I don’t care where we are or what we’re doing as long as you’re with me.”
I look into his eyes. I know I could definitely fall for this guy.
“Now, where are we going? It’s your choice.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him we should go back to his place, but I know the smart thing to do is to get to know each other outside of his bedroom.
“Do you like pizza?” At my question, his eyebrows shoot up, and his hold on me tightens. I don’t know what that response means. “It’s just that I’m dressed for pizza, and there is a really great pizza spot not far from here—”
“Pizza it is!” He cuts me off before I can blabber anything else. “Is it close enough to walk to in the cold, or do we need to get in a cab?”
“We can walk,” I say softly.
He brushes his mouth over mine, then takes my hand in his. “Lead the way.”
We go three blocks down, to Tony’s. I listen to him tell me about the rest of his day as I soak in the feeling of his hand holding mine. His towering presence at my side makes me feel protected. I know if something were to happen, he would do whatever he had to do in order to make sure I was okay. I have never felt that before with anyone. When we finally reach the restaurant and step inside, I expect to be greeted by Tony, like always. He’s not there, which surprises me since he’s always behind the long counter laughing with customers or his employees.
“What kind of pizza do you like?” Wesley asks, pulling my attention back to him.
I shrug. “Anything with meat on it.”
“My kind of girl!” He smiles, and my heart flips. “Do you want to grab us a booth while I place our order?” he asks, looking around the packed restaurant.
“Sure.”
I release his hand and head toward the back just as a couple leaves one of the tables. Tonight, like most nights at Tony’s, seating is a rare commodity. It’s not a fancy place, but it doesn’t have to be—the pizza brings people from all over Manhattan.
Sliding into the empty table, I rub my freezing hands together and blow on my fingers while I watch Wesley place our order. Feeling more at ease, I slip off my coat and set it on the bench next to me, then unwrap the scarf from around my neck and drop it on top of the coat. This place is definitely more my style. Okay, really this place is like a second home to me. Libby and I spend a lot of time here together because pizza is one of the few things we can have without blowing our monthly budgets. Over time, we’ve become close to Tony and his wife. We’ve also gotten to know his son, Antonio, who helped out his dad after he got out of the military and still does now, whenever he isn’t working as a firefighter.
“Mac!” I turn my head when I hear my name. I smile at Antonio when he comes over to greet me with a hug.
“Hey, how are things?” I ask when he lets me go.
“I’m guessing you didn’t hear?” he says, taking a seat across from me.
I notice the exhaustion and worry in his eyes, which puts me on guard. “Hear what?”
“My dad had a heart attack.”
“What?” My heart splits open just thinking about Tony—happy, smiling Tony—in the hospital.
“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “He had to have surgery, and he’s been in the hospital for a couple days now. They are getting ready to move him to a nursing home to recover and get physical therapy.”
“Oh my god.” I reach over and take his hand. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Mom’s a mess, which is probably why she didn’t tell you. She’s been staying with him as much as she can and working here when she’s not.”
“What can I do to help?” I ask immediately.
He smiles softly, and I realize then just how good-looking he is. He’s so not my type—my type seems to be just Wesley—but he is attractive. Why didn’t I see that before?
“Do you know how to make pizza?” He laughs, but I can tell he’s serious.
“I don’t, but I can learn. Libby can also help out.”
“Libby the never-a-hair-out-of-place, high-heel-wearing princess?” He snorts.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’d be surprised. She’s a hard worker, and she worked at the pizza place by our house when she was in high school,” I say to defend her, but he shakes his head.
“No, thanks.” He waves the idea away.
I want to ask him why not, but I don’t have a chance. A shadow envelops our table, and I tip my head back to find Wesley looking down at us—or more like glowering down at the man across from me.
“Can I help you?” Antonio asks.
Wesley’s jaw shifts.
“Ant, this is my . . .”
“Boyfriend.” He sticks out a hand toward Antonio. “Wesley.”
“Oh?” Antonio looks from Wesley to me. “Seems like we both have news.”
“Um . . .” I look up at Wesley, half wanting to kick him and half wanting to tear off his clothes. I don’t know how he is able to make me feel so conflicted.
“Nice to meet you.” Antonio stands and shakes his hand. “Keep an eye on her—she’s a wild card. I think it has something to do with the red hair.” He smirks, and Wesley grunts something I can’t make out before Antonio leans over to kiss my cheek. “I’m happy for you, kid. It’s about damn time.”
“Thanks, I think,” I mumble as he laughs and walks away.
Sensing Wesley slide into the booth, I keep my eyes off him. I’m not sure what to say.
“How many other men are you friends with?”
“Pardon?” I look at him, slightly appalled at his question.
He sits forward. “Edward. Antonio. Who else is there?”
“Is that a question you really want me to answer?” I ask only because he already looks annoyed.
“I’m guessing by that response my answer is going to be no.”
“I’ve always had more male friends than female.” I shrug.
“Why?”
“I find men to be more easygoing. I don’t have to worry about what they are thinking, or that they’ll talk about me behind my back. It’s simple with men. Give them a beer and a game and they’re happy. Women are a whole different world.”
“Have you ever had a relationship with any of your male friends?” he asks, making me squirm in my seat. “Is that a yes?”
“No, I . . . I had a crush on one of them, but nothing ever happened.”
“Who?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Who?” he repeats quietly.
“You’re really annoying,” I huff out.
His eyes narrow. “That’s not an answer.”
“Edward.” I roll my eyes. “Are you happy now? I had a crush on him, but he never even knew about it. He never saw me as anything more than a friend. Really, I don’t know what I saw in him to begin with.”