Page 23 of My Secret Bandit

With a smile, he gave me all the answers I was looking for. “Twenty-six. October twenty-fourth. Alfonso. Two older siblings, Mariana by blood and Xander by choice. Cheesecake and heights. Xander and Mari had this awesome idea to go sky-diving. Nearly passed out on the way down, but it was something they wanted to do, so we did it. Never again, though.”

“So, you really consider Xander family?” I asked, noticing how effortlessly he included him.

“Absolutely. He’s my brother in every way that matters. Now what about you?” he asked, shifting so his entire focus was on me.

“Okay, twenty-five, only child. Birthday is June fourth. My favorite food is probably chocolate covered strawberries. Biggest fear is flying. What’s left?”

“Middle name. Favorite flower.”

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask you what your favorite flower was.” I laughed.

“Peonies,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Mm, nice. If we’re going off looks, I’d say tulips. But if we’re going off scent it’s definitely gardenias. Middle name is Dakota.”

“Jameson Dakota Flynn,” Mateo whispered. He twirled my dark hair around his index finger. “Could your mother have given you a more beautiful name?”

While most of my brain knew his question was rhetorical, the small part controlling my lips refused to acknowledge that and a “probably” came floating out. Even though as I listened to him say it, it was like the universe planted it in my mom’s head all those years ago just to roll off his tongue one day.

“You don’t like your name?”

Feeling childish about the reasoning, I shrugged off his question.

“Jameson. Look at me,” he demanded gently, his voice low.

“What?”

“You know what.” He lifted his chin toward me. “Tell me why.”

“Kids teased me. A lot. Not only was I the chubby girl, but I was also the girl with threeboynames.“ I threw air quotes around the word boy. “Kids are mean, and in my experience, they get worse as they get older. In addition to saying hurtful things to you, they say them to everyone else, and eventually, they all adopt the same opinions of you.”

“I wish I knew you then, I would’ve happily kicked the ass of anyone who hurt you.”

“Is that so?” I asked, and he nodded. “Well, I appreciate that. I really do.” My palm curved around his cheek, and he turned, his warm, soft lips meeting my skin.

“You’re welcome. Where’s your phone? I need to do something.”

I lifted off the couch and grabbed it from my purse. Handing it to him, a heavy yawn forced me further down the couch to lay my head against his muscular thigh.

Remembering my passcode, he started working away. “Want to know what I saved your number as?” he asked, looking down in his lap from the screen.

“Please tell me it’s not an eggplant emoji.”

His laugh rumbled through his body.

“I see where your head’s at. Naughty, Jameson,” he teased.

I groaned, my hands covering my face. “It’s Sierra’s fault.”

“Sure it is. But really, if I went that route, it’d be the peach obviously.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Anytime.” He ran his hand over my hair and down, slipping beneath my shoulder and coming back out with his phone. “Remember those numbers I sent you?”

I nodded against him and he laid his phone in my palm before letting his arm fall the length of my body and his own palm rested on my hip.

The lock screen lit up a sweet family picture of a couple I assumed were his parents standing next to Mateo with a little girl wrapped in his arms. She looked like him. Her eyes were lighter and more green but they held the same sparkle. Her tawny-tinted skin and dark curls matched his too. She looked young, only six or seven. Both wore massive, bright smiles.

---