Read Online Perfectly Broken by Prescott Lane - Free Book Online

Bret, this is Peyton’s story to share. I shouldn’t have even told you.”
    Bret looked out the window, torn between his best friend and girlfriend, pissed that Peyton already had so much taken from her — and now this. The stop sign caught his eye. He wouldn’t take anything else. “I won’t say a word to Reed or anyone.”
    “Thanks, babe,” Quinn whispered, nuzzling into his neck. “I’m sorry I was rude to Reed again.”
    “Just know he’s not going to hurt her.”
    “It’s not so much about him. I’ve watched her in pain for almost four years and just don’t want to see it anymore.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    OVER THE PAST few days, Reed had spent several hours thinking about where to go. He considered taking Peyton to a “buffet” — perhaps the huge spread at Harrah’s near the Riverwalk — but decided that would only be funny for a few minutes, and then they’d be stuck in a loud, smoky restaurant surrounded by cocktail waitresses in tiny tops, many of whom had no business wearing them. He also considered taking her downtown to the Canal Place Theater, which didn’t allow annoying teens or kids to bother them, where they could dine from the high-brow menu while taking in a movie in high back leather chairs. But a movie seemed so trite, so ordinary, and he wanted to make a good impression and try to get to know Peyton, so two or three hours in a dark, quiet theater wouldn’t allow for that. Sure, they could make out during the movie, but they could do that anywhere.
    He settled on dinner at Emeril’s in the Warehouse District. It was, after all, “five star dining,” the very way she’d described herself. And if things went well, his loft was only a few streets away. He never took his women there — it made things too personal, too complicated — but he’d make an exception for Peyton. He was also willing to make an exception to his promise not to rush things.
    Peyton hardly expected such a beautiful dinner or for Reed to be such a romantic guy, opening every door for her, pulling out her chair. The kiss on the porch was a little forward for a first date greeting, but it did relieve some pressure and thankfully didn’t ignite any lightning strikes of memories past. Still, she wondered whether this was the real Reed or the night was just too good to be true, starting with their first kiss, like something out of an old Hollywood movie, the whole thing carefully designed by a leading man whose stunning good looks and charm burst from the silver screen. She tried not to think about all the other women but didn’t want to be naive, either. She twirled her locket, considering all the possibilities, then opened her menu.
    “Who’s in there?” Reed asked.
    Peyton scooted her chair towards him and opened her locket. “That’s my dad, Aidan Mayfield, and my mom, Victoria Peyton Mayfield.”
    “They live in New Orleans?”
    “Not anymore. They died when I was six.”
    “Jesus! I’m sorry.” Hard knocks .
    “Car crash.” She closed the locket. “It was a long time ago.”
    “Well, it’s a nice memory to have.”
    “All I have are memories, so I never take it off.” Peyton explained when her parents died, her paternal grandparents were her only family left. Gram and Grandpa gave her the locket on the day of the funeral. “All things considered, I had a good childhood. They raised me where I live now. They were very protective of me. Gram thought she could cure anything by baking, but Grandpa had a slightly different way.”
    Reed listened intently, watching her lost in her thoughts, happy she was carrying the conversation.
    “I remember if anything bad happened to me — like some mean boy would break my heart — Grandpa would drive us to Seaside, Florida. He’d rent a little house on the beach and take me out to the water. He’d tell me to cry, to let the sea carry away my tears. He died my senior year of college.” Peyton took a sip of water. “What about your family?”
    Reed