Page 11 of Her Guardian
“That takes care of my side item…” Sarah flips through the menu. “What else is good?”
“Almost everything,” I explain. “But I’m partial to the gyros. My uncle makes them from scratch. A lot of Greek restaurants use the frozen stuff, and it’s never the same.”
“I’ll trust your expertise, Greek Boyd,” she says playfully.
“Just Boyd,” I growl. “I’m about as Greek as you are. I’ve never even been there and I sure as hell don’t speak the language.”
“So, anything other than Boyd is a boundary?” she questions, her pretty blue eyes flickering with amusement. “No Big Boyd. No Greek Boyd. I assume Vegas Boyd and Mafia Boyd are off limits too?”
“Boyd,” I repeat. “That’s my fucking name.”
The waitress arrives with our drinks and we’re ready to order, so I ramble off how I like my gyro. Sarah seems to like what she hears and asks for the same.
“Do you do that a lot?” I ask, glancing at her while I take a sip of scotch.
“What do you mean?” She raises her brow and tucks the straw between her lips. “Oh, that’s really good!”
“Thought you might like it,” I say. “I’m talking about ordering the same thing as the person you’re with. You ordered scotch when I did at Rafferty’s and just asked for the same gyro I did.”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” she admits. “Honestly, I didn’t get much of a choice growing up. We never ate out, and my mom made the same three casseroles over and over. That was practically all I ever ate except for school lunches and whatever Lea’s grandmother made when I stayed over. That woman could cook. I still miss her homemade pies.”
“Maybe Lea can make one for you sometime.” I shrug and take another sip of my drink.
“Lea? In a kitchen?” Sarah laughs, and I love the way it sounds. “No, she can barely follow a recipe.”
“Good thing the boss has a butler,” I chuckle.
“What about you?” she asks. “Do you have a fancy mansion with your own personal Alfred?”
“No,” I grunt. “No mansion and I live alone.”
“Really?” Sarah tilts her head in the most adorable way yet again—I’m starting to like that way more than I should. “That has to be pretty lonely. You don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”
“I haven’t had time for that in a while,” I admit. “Used to date a showgirl, but it was never serious. I don’t mind being alone. Helps me focus on work.”
That’s not entirely true. I do get lonely sometimes, but I’ve made peace with it. I used to think I’d have a family one day—wife, kids, and all that. It just never worked out.
“If you don’t want to talk about this it’s okay, but what was it like being Erica’s bodyguard?” she asks. “I know you had no idea she was planning… what she was planning.”
“No fucking clue,” I say with a frown. “I’m loyal. She knew that. It’s why she sent me on errands or asked Paulie to step in as her bodyguard when she was doing shady shit. I’m not sure the boss believed my hands were totally clean. Salvatore—not Massimo. I think Massimo understands I was just following orders.”
“You didn’t have anything to do with it,” she says emphatically. “I saw how upset you were after it happened.”
“Did you?” I question. “I don’t remember seeing you until after Massimo and Lea got engaged.”
“I was at Salvatore’s house after they rescued Massimo and his brothers,” she says. “I was scared out of my damn mind, but I had to be there for Lea.”
“Guess it all worked out,” I rumble. “As for what it was like being Erica’s bodyguard. It was boring, mostly. Lots of shopping sprees and brunch dates with her friends. It never seemed like she spent much time with the kids, but that was her business. I was just there in case she needed me.”
“Did she ever need you?” she asks.
“Rarely,” I answer. “Most people take one look at me and know to back the fuck up.”
“Hmm, yeah.” She looks up at me, meeting my gaze. “I can’t imagine many people picking a fight with you by choice.”
“Not if they like keeping their head on their shoulders,” I say.
We talk for a little longer while Sarah tries to unpack me. I can see right through her. I know what she’s doing, even if she’s doing it in the most charming way possible.
