Page 20 of Secrets

I should probably see all these things as red flags, sense that these emotions are indicators that this—whateverthisis—is nothing but trouble. But instead, I lean forward, propping my chin on interlocked fingers and smile because, after all, red is my favorite color.

“So, Elena. Tell me about yourself.”

Elena’s long lashes drift closed for a beat as she reclines in her chair. When they peel back open, the pretty green illuminates with a new sense of amusement. “And what is it you’d like to know?”

Well, for starters, if the gurgling in my stomach is from indigestion or butterflies. Then? Everything.

I have so many questions, and even more musings. Usually, I’d have no problem spitting them all out at once, but in fear of scaring her off with how jumbled my mind is, I manage to keep it to one. “Why do I sense a conversation with you will be like one of those choose-your-own-endingGoosebumpsbooks?”

Her head tilts. “Isn’t that what any conversation is?”

“Not with such high stakes.” I mean, I guess some of them ended up with the reader sucked into a gutter, devoured by wolves, or falling to their death over a cliff. But this seems a lot more substantial. More Real.

She arches a questioning brow. “Do I make you nervous, Agent?”

I try not to think of Austin Powers when he asked if he made you horny. Though, my answer would be the same regardless. “A little.”

Her expression remains impassive. “Why?”

I release out a soft huff, dropping my hands from beneath my chin. “Because I’m usually pretty good at reading people—it’s literally my job—but you…well, it’s like you’re written in an entirely different language.”

Elena’s eyes flash as Mrs. Ward carries over our order. “Then perhaps it’s time to consider becoming bilingual.”

This makes me laugh, and the tight muscles in my neck seem to melt a fraction. She thanks Mrs. Ward and takes a tentative sip of her coffee. It causes her shoulders to drop an inch and a subtle sigh to release from her lips. Simultaneously, my thoughts wander off to imagine ifIcould cause her to have the same reaction.

Ha!Who am I kidding? IknowI could. My tongue between those toned thighs would bring her to fucking tears. But that happening without getting my head ripped off is another question entirely.

Lightning tingles up my spine at the thought, and my thighs clench involuntarily. I just met this woman, and already I’m a mess.

In an attempt to distract my thoughts, I take a drink of my coffee. The liquid is the perfect temperature, just before scalding, and sears down my throat and through my limbs with overwhelming notes of flavor.

“Good, isn’t it?” Elena asks from behind her cardboard cup, her tone playful.

I nod. “Very. A hell of a lot better than what we have in the pot back at the office.”

Elena huffs. “You know, you don’t strike me as a typical federal agent.”

Now it’s my turn to lift a brow. “No? And what stereotype do Inotfall into?”

“Calm, cool, and collected,” she says plainly, taking a long sip. “Don’t mistake it for an insult, but I find you to be rather eccentric, thus far.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“Then tell me, how did you end up with that badge clipped to your chest?”

I shift in my seat, tearing off a small piece of the croissant. It’s soft, flaking under my fingers as I pull it apart. Like the coffee, it’s delicious, and I wonder how the hell this place isn’t bursting at the seams with a crowd. My eyes flit to the woman standing behind the counter. She’s pretending to be busy wiping the counter, but it’s clear her ears are methodically angled in our direction.

Elena follows my gaze before setting down her cup. “She’s likely surprised I’m here with someone.”

“Oh, am I the first?” I probe, trying not to sound too excited as I take another bite of bread. “I’m honored.”

“You are, and you should be.” Elena’s smooth, dusky voice is free of a lie and my eyes flash to hers. “I’m not what people would consider a social person.”

My mouth pops open twice with a response, but it’s cut off by the vibration of my phone against my hip. It’s the timer I set so I could get back before anyone would notice. But when I look at Elena, I can’t bring myself to cut our impromptu date short.

What’s a few more minutes?

I slip my hand in my pocket and snooze the alarm. “I assumed you were introverted considering you left the bar when I suggested a game of pool.”

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