Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (6 page)

I check in with the host, but Tommy hasn’t arrived. Great. I follow the petite brunette, her high heels clicking away as she leads me to a table for two by the front window. The restaurant is warm and cozy, intimate, despite the quiet clinking of silverware against dinner plates mixed with the chatter of couples. I glance at the menu as I wait, even though I don’t feel like eating. I’d rather be home and in my PJs, snuggling up with a book.

The wide front window offers a perfect view of the entire street. Couples walk up and down the sidewalk, everyone’s bundled up in effort to block the Chicago wind.

As I’m people watching through the large picture window, I spot Tommy and my breath falters. He’s coming out of the parking garage across the street.

He’s wearing an English-cut, sage-colored suit that’s tailored to his strong frame perfectly. I know all about that suit. He wouldn’t shut up about it when he first got it. A crisp white shirt and handkerchief lend to its flawlessness, and the matching sage tie brings out those killer green eyes. Italian leather loafers complete the outfit, and his bulky watch peeks out from under his left cuff. His honey brown hair is expertly styled, a five-o’clock shadow outlining his chiseled jaw.

He looks like he’s ready to hit the town, not go to work. Women walking by can’t help but glance at him while he crosses the street.

Instantly, doubt minions start kicking awake my insecurities. I glance down at my outfit, feeling very underdressed.

What is a man like him doing with a woman like me?
I hate this feeling. There’s one thing I don’t miss about working with Tommy: the looks. The ones women always gave us, the “
What is that guy doing with her?
” look. Once they found out we were co-workers the relief was tangible.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jolt in my seat. So engrossed with my doubt minions wreaking havoc, I completely missed Tommy entering the restaurant and joining me.

“Hey, Lil.” In one smooth motion, he unbuttons his suit jacket and slides into the seat across from me.

Before he can lay the napkin on his lap or peruse the menu, a pretty waitress is at our table; her eyes trained on Tommy like the freaking sun walked in and sat down. She’s staring unapologetically, ignoring me in the process. I’ve heard them all: “
Blind date
?” Or, my favorite, “
Your sister
?” We don’t even look alike, but women can dream.

She greets us and rattles off the specials, her eyes never wavering from Tommy. She’s wearing a fitted white blouse with a black tie, apron, and pants. Her spine straightens, and her chest puffs out in all the right places.

“Lily?” My eyes snap back to Tommy. I didn’t hear a word he said. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water is fine,” I mutter.

Tommy says something and throws a smile her way. She’s absolutely glowing, biting her lower lip, flirting shamelessly with him. I never knew drinks were so funny.

Her blonde hair is in a stylishly messy updo, her bright blue eyes gleaming with lust. Tommy, ever the charmer, can’t help himself, chatting her up right in front of me.

Suddenly, they’re quiet and Tommy’s attention is on me. Blondie looks at her notepad, smile gone and pen poised to write.

“Lil, do you want any starters?”

Starters. Right. 

“Whatever you want.” I wasn’t hungry to begin with, and with this girl mooning all over him, I’ve lost my appetite.

He’s pinning me with those emerald eyes, caressing my features, completely oblivious. I don’t think he even realizes how he is with women. It’s just who he is, I guess.

Blondie sighs as if I am keeping her from some important appointment in the kitchen.

“That will be all, Candie, thanks.”

Candie
. Of course he remembered her name. The man is a natural.

She finally peels herself away from our table, but not before excusing herself to Tommy and telling him to call on her for anything he needs. Anything at all.

Just like the old days.
And if the past is any indicator of future actions, she will slip him her number behind our bill when we’re ready for the check.

“Your eye is almost healed.” He reaches for my brow but I flinch away from his reach.

“Yeah, that was quick. It wasn’t too bad.” My fingers go straight to the barely visible scar.

Tommy leans his elbows on the table and eyes me with mischief. “So, I see you didn’t go home and change into a dress like I asked.”

“No. I didn’t have time.”

Because I had to sit for an hour and stare at the wall while Dr. Matthews encouraged me to talk.  Teague’s warning fresh in mind, I was more vocal, even nodded at the right times. She wants me to start journaling. We talked about my PTSD issues combined with a slew of disorders I can’t pronounce.

And now, my insecurities are busy with some arts and crafts, creating a poster announcing the man in my life is too good for me. My eyes are fixed on the garage across the street. Now, more than ever, I wish I’d gone home and crawled under the covers.

I watch him from the corner of my eye as he learns forward, quietly examining me. Maybe he sees what I see when I look in the mirror: a washed-up agent in need of a padded room and a makeover. “You, on the other hand, look fantastic.”

He sits back in his chair, fidgeting with his tie and suit lapel. “Just work, which is why I wanted us to have dinner. I’m going to be tied up with a case, so I might not be able to come over as much.”

My stomach drops. His schedule was all over the place to begin with.

“Mmmhmm
,” I mumble, trying to keep a brave face.

He runs his fingers through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Lil, I—”

“Here are your drinks. Can I get you anything else?” Blondie aptly interrupts, setting our glasses and a plate of calamari on the table.

“We didn’t order any appetizers.” Tommy’s puzzled expression is quickly answered.

“It’s on the house,” she whispers. “It was ordered by mistake, so no harm.” She winks at Tommy and saunters away.

This feeling bubbling up inside of me is something new. In the past, every time Tommy and I went out in public, I was invisible around other women. I had to sit back and watch him flirt, but it’s different now.

“Of course, the classic free appetizer. Just like the old days,” I say, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

My inner minions are working full time to prove once and for all, I have no business being involved with a man of Tommy’s caliber.

His face drops with a mixture of discomfort and remorse. “I’ll send it back—”

“Don’t give up your perks for me,” I quip, sarcasm rearing its ugly head.

He lets out a big exhale, his large frame deflating ever so slightly.

Why am I being like this?

None of this is his fault. Not only that, I know he cares for me. So much so, that deep within, I feel he would never betray me.

“Ready to order?”

Oh good, our waitress is back.

Tommy remains impassive, not making eye contact with her and focusing on his menu instead. I stare at the table, picking invisible crumbs off the white linen and admiring the crystal salt and pepper shakers.

“I’ll have the filet, medium rare, with a baked potato.
Honey
?” he says to me.

Candie, scribbling on her pad, steals quick glances at Tommy from under her lashes. Maybe she chose to ignore the
honey
comment.

“I’ll have a salad.”

Tommy shoots me a scolding glare. “She’ll have the same.”

“You’re wasting your money,” I quietly reply. I don’t have it in me to fight.

“Just humor me, please?” His lips curve into a warm, charming smile.

I sigh in defeat because, damn, I still can’t say no to him. “Fine. I’ll have the same.”

Candie collects the menus and finally takes her leave. And we’re alone again.

Eyes downcast, I rearrange the napkin in my lap and straighten my silverware while I wait for the food I probably won’t be eating.

“Lil, please eat. Promise me you’ll try, baby.”

My eyes snap up at his hoarse, pleading tone and his gaze melts me.

Now I feel worse. For him,
anything
.

“I will.” I smile sadly because, honestly, I’m miserable right now.

He just told me he’ll be gone even more than he already is. We were together an average of twelve hours a day for close to nine years, and now…we’re not. How do you walk around without a part of you?

“Hey, Lil.” Tommy’s hand covers mine as he leans in, those mesmerizing eyes locking on mine.

Light and dark collide; he beams and I barely flicker. He’s the light to my darkness, my bright spot in the sky. But now, I live in the shadows, missing his warmth.

Sadness climbs up my throat and I swallow, trying to push it down.

“Talk to me. I’m here,” he whispers, his voice passionate and earnest.

“Where are you going after this, Tommy?” This is what I really want to know.

Mission accomplished. My doubt minions sit back and admire their handiwork.

That bright green light disappears behind his tightly shut eyelids. His hand slips ever so slightly from mine, his shoulders slumping on a loud exhale.

“I can only go by what I see, Tommy. You’re dressed right now like you’re ready to hit the club.” There, I said it, not a drop of regret in my heart.

“Jesus, Lil, come on,” he chides, disappointment evident. “How can you think I’m doing anything that isn’t related to work?”

I’m being petty and I know it. Shame and embarrassment churn inside me. Reasoning admonishes me, because this is about
my
issues, not his.

Candie is back with our food, our complimentary appetizer untouched. She talks to Tommy again, but I avert my eyes. I can’t take anymore tonight. The flirting, the feeling of being invisible. She places the thick, grilled steak and baked potato in front of me, and then leaves.

I grab my fork and steak knife and cut into my meat. The knife slices through like it’s butter, juices running across the plate, pooling around the potato. I bring a piece to my mouth. No need to chew. The moist meat dissolves against my tongue. I have to admit, feels good to have a real meal.

We eat in silence. No chitchat, no shop talk. I’ve stained the air with doubt and tension, and all I can do is wait until the toxic clouds dissipate.

We’re nearly done when Candie comes to check on us and Tommy asks for the bill. I glance up to find him watching me as if I’m some symbol he’s trying to decipher. About to take a drink, I pause, my water glass suspended mid-air.

“What?”

He looks resigned. “I wanted to give you something.” He halts me before I get a chance to interrupt. “It’s not a birthday present, okay? It’s something I wanted to give you for a long time.” He pulls a small black velvet box from his suit breast pocket.

I freeze.

Oh God. Oh God.
Is this why he wanted me to wear a dress? What the fuck is he doing?

My eyes and mouth are wide open. I’m hyperventilating. The room seems to tilt side to side, and I drop my glass with a loud thud, and grip the sides of the table tightly.

“Breathe, Harper. It’s not a ring,” he says, a hint of hurt and dejection in his expression. “Good thing it isn’t, because if your face is any hint of your answer, I would’ve made an ass of myself.” The corner of his lip turns slightly upward in a bittersweet smile.

I can’t believe I panicked. I actually
panicked
even though I knew better.

Neither one of us has been good at relationships in the past. Just because we’re finally together, doesn’t mean we are ready for marriage.

I’m afraid to touch the box after he gingerly places it next to my dinner plate. Thankfully I’m done with my meal, because I couldn’t muster another bite. I caress the soft velvet. Tommy knows me better than anyone. He knows I don’t do gifts.

Gifts bring too much attention, high expectations, and have too many strings attached, which is why I have a strict no-gifts-ever policy.

“Just open it, Harper,” Tommy says, flatly. “It won’t bite.”

You’d think I just kicked his dog. This is exactly why I don’t like gifts.

I don’t want to open it because I’m afraid of what it is, and what it will mean. Sighing, I grab the box and push up the lid, holding it close to my chest.

It is certainly not a ring. It’s a silver necklace with a pendant.

It’s beautiful.

It’s
us
.

As I admire it, Tommy adds nervously, “It’s something I picked up a long time ago. I saw it and it reminded me of you, so anyway, it’s not expensive or anything....” His words swirl inside me, killing those ugly minions lurking in my head, driving each one into the ground.

My heart is there, in the pendant’s design, which I quickly recognize. It’s the Claddagh symbol, hanging from a Celtic trinity knot. I’m speechless.

“Anyway, so I noticed it’s like that ring the vampire gave Buffy on the show. You made me watch that shit so much, so, I thought you’d like it.”

My eyes and throat sting, I’m so overwhelmed by emotion for this man. How is he so amazing, yet the sight of another woman admiring him fills me with such self-doubt?

I had every reason to be afraid. This means
something
.

It means loyalty, friendship, and eternal love. Everything we are to each other.

“You don’t have to wear it, Harper, so don’t—”

“I love it.” My voice is raspy, and my chest tight.

“You do?” Relief settles into him while his scowl and somber mood disappear. The enthusiasm I extinguished is back full-force. He’s beaming with happiness and love.

For me.

Fucking minions and their machinations. They almost won today.

I pull the necklace out of the box, trying to unclasp the lock. Tommy jumps up from his chair and rushes to my side, lifting the necklace from my struggling fingers.

“Here, let me put in on for you.”

I can’t contain my smile as I move my long hair aside.

He loops it around my neck, the scent of clean, virile male along with his unmistakable cologne washing over me. My eyes close on instinct, his essence so near, imprinting on my soul, enveloping me, cocooning me, making me feel safe and loved. Nothing else matters. Not my psychosis, hallucinations, or whatever else is going on in my life.