Page 18 of Ace
Agent Boniface was a pleasant diversion. Now that Savannah knew he was an empath, she kept her hands to herself to avoid overloading him with her emotions. Not that he had unraveled at touch alone. He’d also turned gray when he’d gotten the call from his boss. His empathy receptors for others’ pain seemed to be running him instead of the other way around. Empathy could be an all-consuming taskmaster. She would know. That was why Sanctuary now needed every bit of its five acres for her rescued dogs, cats, and birds.
Yet when the hostess showed them to their booth, Agent Boniface hadn’t started sweating or breathing heavily when he’d put his hand at the small of Savannah’s back.
But Savannah did. No man had ever touched her as gently. She’d shivered at the simple gesture that probably meant nothing to this tough-minded, professional FBI agent. He probably did the same thing to female agents he worked with all the time. It was no big deal. Gentlemen did little gracious things like that every day. She’d seen it in movies and on TV. But toSavannah, it felt like the sweetest caress. It meant something.
Agent Boniface wasn’t just being cavalier like Dr. John.Eww.She cringed recalling the smell of RJ’s bad breath in her face and his grasping fingernails digging into her forearms. What had he thought, that she was his girlfriend now that Gran Mere was gone? He’d acted like it.
Agent Boniface’s touch felt more sincere, as if everyone watching had better understand that she was in his care and under his protection. Unable to resist the masculine warmth at her back, Savannah leaned into him instead of taking her seat.
His palm curled around her waist. “You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” he asked in that gruff, no-nonsense FBI tone he seemed able to summon on command.
Savannah cast a glance over her shoulder and up at him. Agent Boniface was standing so close, his chest was almost touching her arm. Her bronzed and golden man looked down at her. Time seemed to stop.
That was how she’d always remember this tawny skinned, amber-eyed federal agent who’d come to her aid on the worst day of her life. Something coiled between them, and for one heart-stealing moment, the world of syrup and waffles ceased to exist. It was just them, just Agent Boniface and her standing together—somewhere. His eyes were extra dark, his pupils big and black. The amber around the edges had turned soft, more brown than gold. His breath hitched. He cantedhis head. Just barely. Just enough to make her think he wanted to kiss her.
She licked her bottom lip, wishing he would and wondering if he’d taste like the melted maple syrup she saw in his eyes. All at once, the manly hold on her waist felt exquisitely intimate, as if he didn’t want to let her go any more than she wanted him to release her. As if they really were a couple. As if she had any claim on him.
“Do I, umm, have to call you Special Agent Boniface?” she asked breathlessly as her wayward tongue slid over her bottom lip again. “Don’t you have a first name?”
His gaze turned smoky, tracking the innocent movement of her tongue. “Keller,” he answered, his voice uncommonly hoarse for a man so refined and proper. The grumpy corners of his mouth turned up the tiniest bit. “Please, call me Keller.”
“Keller, huh?” Her heart pounded like a flock of hummingbird wings had suddenly taken flight in her throat. “It fits you. I like it.”Kiss me.
And just that fast, up-tight, in-control Sergeant Friday was back on duty. Keller stiffened as if he’d suddenly remembered who he was. He took a step back. He dropped his hand. He let her go.
Darn.Disappointment was a hard pill to swallow. Savannah masked hers as she stepped away from the man who wasn’t really her knight in shining armor. Why had she thought he was?He’s a stranger, a federal agent on a mission to save his friend, not you. You’rethe last person he expected to see. Stop acting like a duck.
Sliding all the way across the smooth burgundy upholstered vinyl seat, she still wished he’d take the hint and sit on the same bench with her. That’d be nice.
He didn’t. Instead Keller—oh, I like that name—followed common social convention and took the opposite bench. Kissing him was a foolish idea anyway. He wasn’t one of the silly boys from town.
Puzzled at the way her mind and body seemed to be working against her today, she nodded, silently agreeing with herself. She’d bet her last two cents Special Agent Boniface had never traveled in a pirogue or trapped a gator. The man was big-city pressed and big-city clean. Professional men didn’t waste time gigging frogs or trapping nutria, the big rats chewing their way through the bayou. They were civilized and they held civilized jobs. Clean jobs. They had clean hands, too.
His asking her to breakfast meant nothing. He was just being polite. This wasn’t a date, and she was not going to entertain a silly schoolgirl crush by thinking it was. His treating her like a lady was simply what nice city guys did. They graciously took care of business. They were polite and kind. But when their social obligations were met, they went back to their white-collar lives and their high-society wives. End of story.
But Savannah also recognized a troubled animal behind that crisp, clean façade. Smiling did not come easy to Keller, and she wanted to know why. Married or not, this elegant male held his cards too close to hischest. His unwillingness to share might win a hand in poker, but in the game of life, it made him vulnerable. It left him wanting and bereft of things he had a right to. Happiness, for one. Love, for another. Comfort, for sure.
The moment he’d held onto her to keep her from falling back at Gran Mere’s told Savannah a lot. He’d expected to receive nothing but pain at the contact, but Savannah had shocked him when she’d offered relief instead. Gran Mere had always said to do unto others like you’d wanted them to do unto you. So Savannah gave Agent Boniface what she gave her dogs. Solace and Sanctuary. Maybe a tiny bit of—
No. This was not love. Dogs were easy to love. Men were different. They were complicated. He wasn’t a dog. Like Agent Boniface, she was just being nice.
“Can I get you kids something to drink?” the perky platinum-blonde hostess who’d been waiting for them to take their seats asked. “Coffee, sweet tea, soda?”
“Coffee,” Savannah said simultaneously with Keller. A quiet laugh bubbled out of her, a sound she very much needed to hear after the events of the morning.
“Two coffees,” Keller said, then asked Savannah, “Cream or sugar?”
“You tell me,” she teased, needing to feel normal instead of embarrassed for being such a hick.
But you are a hick.
I know that,she answered herself,but he might not know it.
His eyes narrowed for less than a second before he looked up at the hostess and said, “We’ll take a couple flavored creamers. Sugar too.”
Savannah could’ve laughed out loud. He’d just tried to probe her mind. She’d felt his energy, but it evaporated at first contact with her energy. Oh my gosh. She’d suspected as much, but now she knew for sure. Keller wasn’t telepathic. At. All.
“You betcha,” the hostess replied as she placed two menus on the table and gathered the extra napkins and silverware. “Tyrone’s your waiter this morning. He’ll be right with you. Y’all have a nice day now, ya hear?”
