Page 17 of Family Bonds- Kelsey & Van

“Are you?”

She let out a big sigh. “I know, picking up strangers on the street. But you see, online people have this false sense of confidence. I can tell right away when all they want to do is keep chatting and not meet in person they are hiding something.”

“Most likely,” he said.

“I don’t mind exchanging a few chats online to see if we have anything in common. I’m not an idiot and know most people alter their profile pictures too. I want to meet the person. I want to know if there is an attraction face-to-face. Which, by the way, there is here.”

“Winning,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Yes, I am. But it’s not just that. I want to see their mannerisms. Can they not make eye contact? Do they have to think hard to answer something, which tells me they might be lying? I’m not sure what happened to ever getting to know someone in person. If I want a pen pal I’ll go to writeaprisoner.com.”

He all but spit out the sip of beer he was drinking when she said that. “I wouldn’t advise that,” he said drily.

“Too much?” she asked. “Fine. I wouldn’t actuallydothat, but I’ve thought it. I even told the last guy a few months ago that it was nice being his pen pal, but his time was up. He kept saying we’d meet and I said forget it.”

“Sounds like he was hiding something,” he said.

“Yeah. He was probably five foot one, two hundred pounds, had buckteeth and lived in his mother’s basement. Might have a chainsaw or two hanging on the wall next to a deer head.”

“That wouldn’t be your type at all,” he said.

“Nope,” she said. “I’m not always out for looks, but I do want to be attracted to someone. I want to know their personality. If someone is into hunting, they could be a great person, but it’s not my thing and don’t want to think about the animals that way. Then I’ll start to look at my steak differently. I’m not ready to give up meat. My brother is too good of a chef for me to eliminate a whole food group.”

“Guess you don’t cook either?” he asked.

“I can, but why bother? I can go see my brother like I do several times a week and he makes me a meal to go. It’s always massive and is my one big meal of the day. The rest of the time I snack. My mother says I eat like a college kid.”

“Doesn’t seem to be affecting your health any,” he said, his eyes looking her over.

“Nope. I get plenty of exercise running down the street chasing my puppy like a mad woman.”

“It was a sight,” he said. “I have to admit I thought I might have been imagining it.”

“I wish it was your imagination, but it did bring us here. Oh, here comes my nachos.”

Their food was put down in front of them. “Would you like another drink?” the server asked.

“I’m good,” she said. She still had half of hers left and then she’d drink water.

“I’ll finish this other beer off first,” he said.

The server nodded and walked away. “You know what I do. I’ve lived on this island most of my life and I have a four-month-old puppy. You’re new here. Where are you from? I’m always curious what brings people to this island.”

He put a few wings on a plate in front of him, then reached over for some nachos on hers.

Good, they were mixing and matching and that was her hope so she did the same as he did.

“I’m from Wichita.”

“Wow,” she said. “I’ve never known anyone actually from Kansas. You don’t have an accent.”

“Neither do you,” he said.

“I try not to,” she said. “I’m dying to know what made someone in law enforcement move from Kansas to little old Amore Island.” She leaned in close. “Or are you an FBI agent undercover and can’t tell me that?”

“If I was I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” he said.

She frowned. “True. Okay. Tell me what you want. I’ll know if you’re lying or not. If I don’t know tonight, I’ll figure it out. I’m good at researching people. Fair warning.”

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