Beat of the Heart

“I’m going to sound like a total freak, but I love fantasy—Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, you know, shit like that.”

“Interesting.”

“What? You’re not going to give me shit for that?”

She shook her head. “I think it’s wonderful you read, period, so I’m not going to knock you for liking high fantasy books.”

“But for you, it’s all about romance novels.”

“Yes and no. I like to read non-fiction stuff too.” She finished off a bite of chicken parmesan from her Italian sampler. “I’m kind of a royalty nerd. Love the Tudors.”

“I liked the show.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. The historical inaccuracies were off the charts, and it was basically a thinly veiled excuse for porn.”

I grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

“I would figure as much from you,” she replied with a smile.

“Speaking of romance novels, I have a question for you.”

Eyeing me warily, she took a sip of wine. “Okay.”

“Why is it that during the sex scenes the guy always says, ‘Come for me, baby’, and the chick comes?” I snapped my fingers. “Just like that. I mean, on command like she’s a dog or something. What the hell is up with that?”

Mia laughed. “I don’t know why they do that. It’s certainly never happened to me in real life before.”

“Like, I could just look at you right now and say ‘Come for me’, and you’d come.”

Pursing her lips in thought, Mia replied, “Maybe it’s all about the timing of the command—like it has to be in the heat of the moment. You’d have to be pretty amazing to pull it off across the booth from me in a restaurant.”

“So it’s all in the delivery, huh?”

“I would think so.”

“Something like this?” I leaned forward, taking her hands in mine. Using my thumbs, I rubbed circles over the tops of her hand. I licked my lips and stared intently into her eyes. “Mmm, what you do to me, Mia,” I whispered. “How hard you make me. What I’d like to do to your body…buried deep inside you, pounding away while your tight-as-hell walls clench around me.” I brought her hand to my lips and licked along her fingers. Transfixed, she stared back at me. “Come for me, baby.”

A little tremor ran through her body. “Definitely the delivery,” she murmured.

Grinning, I pulled away. “I still call bullshit but whatever. I needed to ask.”

“I think the better question is how do you even know that goes on in romance novels?”

“Research.”

“Really?”

I bobbed my head. “When you hear a bunch of chicks raving about this book or that one because the sex is hot or what the dude says is sexy, you take notice.”

“So you can always be in tune with what women want?”

“Hell yes.” I winked. “I’ve picked up a few things along the way. Being a stud like me takes practice and cultivation.”

Mia stared at me for a moment before throwing her head back and laughing heartily. After she wiped her eyes, an amused look twinkled in them. “Oh my God, AJ. You crack me up. Will I be benefiting from any more of your learned expertise tonight?”

I gave her my signature smirk. “You never know.”

7

Throughout dinner, conversation flowed effortlessly between AJ and me. There was none of the usual first date awkwardness. Just like he craved realness with me, I felt like I could be myself with him, which was something I hadn’t experienced in so long.

“So you’re a real smart cookie, huh?” AJ questioned with a smile, as he sopped up some of his remaining tomato sauce with a garlic knot.

“What makes you say that?”

He smiled knowingly. “Duke told me a lot about you.”

“Oh shit,” I muttered, covering my eyes with my hands.

“Hey, it was all good. Like how you had your Master’s degree in Nursing, you’d already made shift supervisor—that’s impressive at your age.”

“My ripe old age?” I asked with a grin.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

I opened my mouth to protest when I was interrupted by the screech of a microphone. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I’m Vince—your band-leader here at Mama Sofia’s. I’m joined by Rico and Joey on the violins and accordion. First off tonight, we want to welcome a very special couple to the floor—Mr. and Mrs. Michael and Dorothea Castorini, who are celebrating their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary with their friends and family.” A round of applause went up over the restaurant as a silver haired couple teetered onto the wooden floor before the band’s riser.

Vince smiled. “So for the happy couple, here’s their favorite song, Anema e Core.”

As the familiar opening chords echoed from the violin, it felt like a knife speared my heart. A searing ache spread throughout my chest, sending tears to sting my eyes.

“Mia?” AJ questioned.

Embarrassment at my out-of-control emotions sent warmth into my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” I swept the napkin from my lap and dabbed my eyes.

“Old couples make you weepy?” AJ asked.

I hiccupped a laugh. “Not exactly.”

“Then what is it?”

With a wave of my hand, I replied, “Nothing I need to bother you with.”

AJ reached over and grabbed one of my hands. “You know, most people think I’m just this goofball who never takes anything seriously and lacks any emotional depth or sensitivity. But that’s not true at all.” He squeezed my hand. “I can feel your pain all the way across the table. If it’s about a guy, I can handle it.”

I stared into his dark eyes that pooled with empathy. Although I couldn’t fathom why, I drew in a deep breath. “Anema e Core was my late grandparent’s song. When I was growing up, they used to dance to it all the time. Even at their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary party, when my grandfather was on oxygen and was walking with a cane, they danced to this song. He always called her his anema e core—my soul and heart.”

“That’s really beautiful,” AJ said softly.

For some reason, I felt compelled to keep talking to AJ. “I never knew my real mother—she was some sports groupie who basically hooked up with my dad because he was Duke Martinelli. She wanted to trap him into marrying her, so she got pregnant. Four months after I was born, Dad blew out his knee. She figured her meal ticket had dried up and she didn’t want to be saddled with a kid, so she left us both. My grandparents moved down here from Jersey to help my dad with me, and they never left. My grandfather died when I was fifteen, and that was gut-wrenching. But my grandmother—she was my mother. And when she died nine months ago…a little bit of me died as well.” I didn’t bother stopping the tear that escaped and trickled down my cheek. “She was my anema e core.”

Without a word, AJ left his seat to come sit by me in the booth. Before I knew it, he had an arm around my