Page 33 of Dumbstruck
That gets a chuckle out of him. “One, we should never trust my ideas to be solid because I’m not as smart as I pretend to be. And two, no matter how this goes, my main goal is to enjoy my time with you. If we catch a saboteur, all the better, but I’m not hiding my primary motivator for all of this.” He leans down and kisses my gray wig. “I’m in this because you’re in this, June Harper.”
How in the world is this man still single? Offering a grateful smile, I lift my hand and gently pat his wrinkled cheek. “And here I thought you were trying to be selfless and save the rest of the crew from the terror of Laketown.”
He snorts. “I have never been accused of being selfless.”
Maybe not, but the man slept on my floor last night to keep me from being afraid. I think he is seriously downplaying his good heart, and the more I learn about him, the less certain I am that our interactions are harmless flirting. As I look up into his eyes, meeting his smile with my own, I can’t help but wonder what it might be like to date a guy like Jonah James. He lives in LA, which isn’t exactly nearby, but surely he gets breaks in between movies and can go wherever he wants. With the way he’s looking at me so intently, I have to wonder if he’s thinking something similar.
Would he come visit me in Laketown during his breaks?
Dexter clears his throat, pulling us apart. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Just thought maybe you’d want to get started at some point.”
“Right.” Jonah drops my hand and nods. “We need code names.”
Shoving my fantasies down deep, I revert back to the sarcasm that has served me well so far when it comes to Jonah. “Aww, but Jonah and June sound so cute together.”
“I’m not going to argue,” he says with a smirk, “but if we’re going to get information, we don’t want to raise suspicion.”
“We could use your real name,” I suggest, snickering when Dexter takes a step closer in interest.
Jonah notices too and shakes his head, still grinning. “Nah, you still haven’t earned that one. I’m feeling like a Cecil.”
“Cecil,” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue. “What’s your last name, Cecil?”
“Whatever yours is, Delilah.”
“Delilah?”
He nods with mock seriousness. “Cecil and Delilah. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“I don’t, actually.” I take a step back so I can get a better look at the man in front of me. Jonah James has such a strong presence most of the time, but in his old man getup, he’s so much softer. I don’t think he can ever be without that confident glint in his eyes, though, so he needs a name that reflects those two sides of him. Soft but strong. “I think you’re a Harlowe.”
Jonah folds his arms. “Do you? Then what’s your name, my darling wife?”
I haven’t gotten that far, but now he’s looking at me with feigned impatience—at least I think it’s feigned—and putting me under pressure. “Um. Midge.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Harlowe and Midge?”
I groan. “Okay, that’s way worse than the names you came up with. Why is this so hard?”
Humming, he trails his eyes over me for a second, then looks over at Dexter. “What if I use my middle name?”
I perk up. “Really? You’ll tell me your middle name?”
“If you tell me yours.”
That might work, and I am almost desperate for even a part of Jonah’s real name. “Deal.”
“You first.”
I shake my head. “It was your idea, Jonah James. What’s your middle name?”
His smile shifts into something softer as he holds out his hand for a handshake. “Martin.”
Taking his hand, I let the name wash over me before I say, “Margaret.”
Jonah’s eyes sparkle. “Martin and Maggie. I like it. And our last name?”
Much as I like the idea of coming up with something fun, we might as well keep things as simple as we can. “Smith.”
