Page 16 of The Christmas Cover Rule
His words catch me off guard, knocking me still for a beat.
“And besides, I’m not acompletestranger.”
“I still don’t even know your first name,” I deadpan.
“Two truths and a lie?”
I smile,dust off my hands, and sit up straighter. “You’re up, counselor.”
Jonas leans back on one elbow with an overly confident smirk. “Alright, one,” he holds out his thumb. “I once went to court and argued a four-hour case in front of the judge with my fly down. Two, I hate squirrels. And three, my first name is Preston.”
The confident smirk is starting to make a lot more sense. There wasn’t a lick of hesitation for any of those. Not a stutter, or even a difference in eye movement. He read those off no differently than he would read an ice cream menu. I narrow my eyes at him, hoping for any change in his demeanor, but his lips remain in their same signature curve.
Preston. Preston Jonas.I say the name in my head a few times, and it feels fitting. Would he finally tell me his real name through a game of two truths and a lie, though? It sounds more realistic than this meticulously dressed man forgetting to zip his fly, though.
“I don’t think you would forget to zip your pants.”
“Final answer?”
I tap my fingers against my knee, assessing him, but he still gives nothing up. “Final answer.”
“Damn. So close.” He snaps his fingers.
“What?! Was it the squirrels?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “Your turn.”
I should just resign myself to the fact that I’m never going to learn this man’s real name. With a sigh, I cross my legs under myself and turn to face him. “Alright, but put your bullshit lawyer tricks away. You’ve got an unfair advantage.”
“I wouldn’t need any lawyer tricks to figure you out, Stella. I can read you like a book.”
“You’ve known me for three days,” I remind him.
“Two and a half, and youhave tells. Let’s go.”
I ignore the heat that makes me feel, school my features, and look him dead in the eyes.
“Okay. I’ve never been to Ikea. I almost joined a cult by accident. And…I’ve won a sushi-eating contest before.”
The words aren’t even fully out of my mouth before he says, “You’ve never won a sushi-eating contest.”
I blink. “What the hell?! How did you guess that?”
“It’s not in my best interest to give away your tells.”
“But they're mine!” I argue.
Jonas sits up, leaning in closer to me. His scent wraps around me, and I have to take measured breaths to focus on him.
“Your left eyebrow raises slightly, like you’re holding more tension in your face or something. And your breathing pattern changes.”
“My—”
“I noticed it at dinner last night, and earlier, when you were on the phone with your mom. Also, usually when I do this...” His fingers trail along my necklaces, separating the two, and the warmth of his skin sends goosebumps across mine.
I try not to read into how much he’s noticed about me, but rather remind myself that’s just who he is. He makes a living by paying attention to people. But when it’s me he’s paying attention to, it feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My sisters have had their focus on me my whole life, but that’s always been in an overbearing-we-know-better-than-you type of way. When Jonas does it, it’s almost intimate.
I shake my head, sharp enough to clear the thoughts, and hope my smile doesn’t come across as flustered as I feel.
