Page 34 of This Memory
I glanced over to Lucas Miller, who was the FBI agent assigned to watch over Cadie until she was able to testify atthe trial of her ex-boyfriend’s Mob father. “How come Lucas isn’t helping?”
He raised a single brow. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re a capable man with two good hands. Get in here and roll some pie crusts, man!” I said as I winked at him.
Cadie smiled at Lucas. “Ignore her, you’re fine.”
“I can help if you need me.”
Cadie gaped at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t mind at all.”
With a pep in her step, she rushed over and hugged him, getting flour on his suit. “Can you help Brystol peel apples then?”
With cheeks red from embarrassment, Lucas nodded. “I can do that.”
He took off his jacket and hung it up. Harper handed him an apron, and he approached the same table Cadie had directed me to. Heavy-duty apple peelers were attached to the edges of the wooden table. I pointed toward them. “Choose your weapon.”
Lucas looked them over. “Red, pink, or silver. I’m going with the silver one.”
Smiling, I tossed him an apple. “Know how it works?”
He grinned. “I do.”
We briefly worked in silence before I asked, “Where are you originally from?”
“Austin, Texas.”
“Texas?” I asked.
He laughed softly. “Why do you seem surprised?”
“Well, for one, you don’t have an accent, and I figured everyone in Texas talked with an accent, and two…well…you don’tlooklike you’refrom Texas.”
Raising his brows, he asked in a very heavy southern accent. “Why, what does someone from Texas look like?”
I couldn’t help it, I grinned. “So, you hide the accent, then?”
He nodded. “Where do I look like I’m from?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the suit you wear all the time, but I would say New York City, Washington, D.C., or Boston.”
Lucas flashed me a bright smile, and I couldn’t help noticing how handsome he was. “I live in Boston. Well, right now, my home is Moose Village.”
“How do you like it here? Do you ever get any time off, or do you have to follow Cadie around night and day?”
“I do getsometime off. I don’t go far, but I get a few hours here and there.”
“Once you finish peeling them, use those apple wedgers to core and cut them, please. These are for the pies,” Cadie said, as she glanced over at Harper. Then she rushed over to her table. “Oh, you’re doing the crust wrong, Harp!”
“What do you mean? This is how my granny taught me to do it.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Cadie in her element was like seeing a whole new side of her.
Lucas and I peeled and sliced so many apples that I swore I could do it in my sleep. Once we finished that task, Cadie tasked us with making more pies. We talked about Lucas growing up in Texas on a cattle ranch, and the fact that I grew up in Moose Village and hadn’t ever been out of the state of New York.
“Not even to Boston? The ocean?” Lucas asked, as he leaned back on his stool, taking a short break.
