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"He's a guard at the prison I visit." Her happiness was palpable, and Costas didn't know how to handle it. "We often see each other when I go because he works the night shift."
"Yes. It's a pleasure to see you outside of work as well." Costas didn't have the finer etiquette when it came to nattering with females. Something happened when he was younger that he never spoke of again, so he avoided women like the plague. He used a whore here and there back home, but he didn't do that often either. It made me wonder if he lacked a sex drive or if his sexual orientation was something different. The man was strong and hard, but I knew too many who would fall over his ruggedness.
Well, I think I did. He deserved someone to make him happy, but he never opened up enough to let me help with that. Emilia bounced a little in her seat. "I'll be in on Monday again, so I'll probably see you then if you're working."
"Yes. I shall see you then." Dipping his chin, he made his way to the door.
I sat back and watched how Emilia studied his profile in his haste to leave. Her mouth opened without realizing it. "I rarely see someone who carries so much suffering, but Constantine is burdened. I wish he'd let me in to help, but he's so skittish outside of his job. He's very good with the prisoners from what I've seen because there's never anyone out of line under him. I worry he's isolating himself too much."
"Do you often read strangers?"
"Even though he doesn't speak much, I see him twice a week. He's no stranger, but he's not a friend yet. Maybe he'll let me become one, though, but I don't want to press him for it either. Friendships should be a natural thing. But it's also okay for one to feel the connection first."
"You feel connected to him?" I sipped my drink and let the hot beverage splash down my throat.
"I do. My soul craves to help him with whatever bothers his mind, but not in the same sense as my clients." She drank from her coffee for the first time. Her eyes widened as a subtle moan slipped out. My cock recognized hearing it before in her room. "Oh, this is delicious!"
"White chocolate is a favorite of mine. I usually need just a little more bitterness. Americans over-sweeten most foods."
"Is that why you add in expresso?" she questioned.
"It is. Would you like a taste?" Holding it out to her, she took it and lightly sipped.
Swaying her head from side to side, she thought it over. "I must agree, actually. While mine is quite good, more than a small wouldn't be tasty after a while. I don't have much sugar in my diet, so yours tastes better."
"Want to trade?" I offered.
"Oh, heavens no." She shook her head. "Aside from the size difference, that much caffeine wouldn't be kind to my body. I try to control my intake of it and sugar."
"Good for you. I respect those who have the discipline for a proper diet."
"Then never put pizza in front of me," she laughed. My heart sang at the sound. "I'll eat a whole one without a second thought."
"We all have a food weakness," I returned her joy.
"And what's yours?" Her eyes turned mischievous because she wanted to know something more personal.
"Bread. Well, fresh bread. My grandmother used to make six loaves for the week, but I'd eat my way through two when they came out of the oven. Their flavor and warmth with the smell just did something to me, and I couldn't contain myself. She'd swat at me, but she'd smile because I loved her bread so much."
"That's so sweet!" Emilia swooned. "Does she still make bread?"
"No. Sadly, she fell ill a few years ago, so she can barely walk without tiring her body out."
"I'm so sorry." Emilia covered her heart, feeling my grief within her soul.
"Don't be. I still have the sassy woman to talk to when I need it. For me, I'll take whatever I can get, and she bosses our cooks around to follow her recipe in a specific way to keep them on their toes."
Her gaze dropped with sadness taking over. "I understand that. My sitting spot on my run is what I can get when it comes to my mother. It's the only spot I feel connected to her still."
"She'd be so proud of you." I whispered. Her eyes lifted, blinking from under her long lashes. "I can only imagine she stays right beside you at all times."
"That's a beautiful way to think of it."
"There is beauty in death, but we're stuck on this side, not seeing it. She gets to see everything and be part of it all."
"Thank you for saying that, Antonio."
"Always, Emilia." When I said it, her eyes flared slightly like she had heard someone else say something similar. That's when I realized Dray liked to use always with me. Sipping my drink, I could only smirk behind the cup for her not to see.
