Page 23 of Stolen By the Hit Man
She tears off a hunk of bread, sniffs it, and sighs. “Yeah. You could just be a fake nice guy. But most of those fake ones don’t go so far as to help you kill your kidnapper.”
“Fuck those guys,” I mutter as I stir the pasta into the bubbling stock pot.
“For real,” she says through a mouthful of bread, making me smile. “Look at you. I can’t cook to save my life.”
“Now that you remember things, what are you good at?”
“Why? You gonna put me to work on your farm?” Jasmyn teases with a smile.
“Get the hell out of here,” I laugh.
“Okay, okay!” Jasmyn laughs. “So here’s what I remember…”
Jasmyn tells me everything as I continue cooking. As she talks, my heart drops because I get a clear picture of who I’m dealing with. She’s been on her own since 16. She worked her way through community college, all the while starting her own company, designing curtains. Her quirky designs became an overnight hit online. Now she distributes her fabrics all over the world, creating tablecloths, napkins, and even high-end furniture. She never married, never had kids, and doesn’t date often.
That last part is a relief, but there’s no way a CEO of a global company is going to want to have anything to do with me on a personal level. She has a reputation to maintain. I know I’m being selfish. At the same time, I’m so proud of her.
I set a steaming plate in front of her, loaded down with pasta topped with cheese and red sauce. “So then I had to make the tough decision whether to keep the manufacturing here in the US where it’s pretty expensive, or contract overseas…”
She trails off. “This smells incredible, Joaquin.”
“It’s for eating, not just smelling.”
Jasmyn takes a bite of the food I’ve prepared for her, and instantly her eyes roll back in her head.
I chuckle. “That bad, huh?”
“Stop it. I’m taking you with me back to Florida if you promise to cook me food like this every day.”
Without hesitation, I reply, “You won’t have to twist my arm."
Our eyes meet, and she shyly looks away. “Sorry. I’m just overly excited to have my memories back. You know, you’re like the first nice thing that has happened to me in months.”
“Look at me, Jasmyn.”
Her eyes meet mine.
“You’re not overly excited. After what happened to you, you’re allowed to say and do whatever you need to. You’ve been through hell.”
“And I’ve dragged you along for the ride.”
“I went willingly, and I would do it again.”
She takes another bite, and we share the meal in comfortable silence. I’ve never been so confident in a statement in my life. She may be too good for me, too upstanding, too important to sully her name by associating with a guy like me. But I’ll be around for as long as she needs me.
“Something troubling you, Joaquin?”
Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore. “I should never have told you some of the things I did.”
“Which things?”
“About me wanting you.”
She gives a small smile and pushes her half-eaten plate of food aside. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve got too much to process, and I let my feelings get mixed up in all of it.”
“Well, I am quite irresistible, so I can hardly blame you.” Jasmyn’s smile reaches her eyes, and she shimmies her shoulders. The movement makes the neck of her tee-shirt gape open and I can see right down to her cleavage in her otherwise modest outfit. I can feel sweat start to bead on my top lip at the mere sight of her skin.
