Code of Honor (Spontagio Family 1)

“Like a doctor?” He laughs. “I did when I was younger. Your father forced me to go. But it never really helped. The only thing that did was waste time.”

He shrugs and I’m in awe of his strength.

“Coffee?” I ask, lightening the mood. He nods. “Still double strength, no cream?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“The only way to drink it.” He winks.

A chill races through my body.

“I thought you hated coffee,” he notes as I prepare two cups.

I make a face. “I do, but I’m getting used to it.”

My nose wrinkles and he laughs again. I fill both our cups and push his across the counter to him.

“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, wrapping his hands around the mug. I shrug. Somehow, I don’t think my plan of lazing on the sofa waiting for the phone to ring was going to cut it. “Come on, Luce. You’re in New York. I bet you’ve barely taken five minutes to see the sights since you’ve been here.”

“It’s not like it’s my first trip to New York,” I retort, my tone defensive. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all before.”

“But you haven’t seen it my way,” he says with a grin. I narrow my eyes, recognizing the mischievous glint in his gaze.

“Your way?” I groan. “I’m scared to even ask.”

—

“This is our first stop?” I laugh, staring at the video game arcade in front of us, aptly named Barcade. Pietro looks offended as he grabs hold of my hand and drags me inside.

“This isn’t just any arcade, Luce. It’s one of the oldest in the country. Don’t tell me you’re too good for arcade games. Or maybe you’re just scared?” He lifts an eyebrow, and I narrow my eyes at him. I know what he’s doing and it’s working.

“Game on,” I say, then grin. “But I’m choosing.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, a twinkle in his eyes. I stroll through the arcade, carefully studying each game before deciding on a racing one.

“You sure about this?” he asks. “I mean, I’ve seen you drive.”

My mouth falls open. He laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t take offense, maybe it’ll play to your advantage.” He gets behind the wheel of one of the carts and motions to the other. “Are you joining me?”

“Prepare to be embarrassed.” I sit behind the wheel, my face a mask of concentration as I stare at the screen in front of me. We take off, and as I half expected, Pietro races ahead of me while I struggle to figure out the pedals. I finally gain some speed just as I’m going into a corner. Grabbing the wheel, I skid to the side as the car begins to spin out of control, landing me in a pit of mud.

“It’s just like being back in Chicago with you,” Pietro teases, winking at me.

“This game is the worst.” I laugh, conceding that maybe I’m not as good a driver as I thought I was. I spy an air hockey table across the room and smile. Now that is more up my alley. I get up and head toward it, leaving Pietro protesting behind me.

“Air hockey.” He groans. “Not again. Is this going to spark something in you?”

I laugh and poke my tongue out at him. He’s referring to when I was seventeen and Dad got Pietro an air hockey table for his birthday. I became obsessed with playing the damn thing and went for hours at a time competing against Pietro and his friends. In the end, they banned me from playing with them. They claimed it was because I was getting out of control, but I know it’s because I kept beating them.

“Scared?” I ask lightly.

After I thrash him four times playing air hockey, he decides he’s had enough. I laugh as he drags me out of the arcade.

“Where are we going now?” I ask. “Somewhere else I can beat your ass, I hope.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but our next stop is slightly less competitive,” he retorts, his voice dry. A few blocks later he stops outside a pizza place. “This is it,” Pietro says, directing us into the restaurant. I sigh with relief. I’m exhausted.

We go inside and I expect to be led to a table, but the waitress takes us through to the kitchen. I narrow my eyes at Pietro, wondering what else he has planned. He smiles innocently at me.