Page 19 of Deadly Secrets
The shield rose again. “Not for the same reasons, of course. Conrad’s in love with Julia and he wants to save her from the mole. She doesn’t need saving because she’s a spy herself and quite competent at that, but that’s neither here nor there. You want me to consult for your team, and being the hero you are, I guess smoldering comes naturally when you pour on the charm.”
“I honestly didn’t realize I was doing any such thing. My goal here isn’t to charm you so much as prove my team needs you.”
“You always get what you want, don’t you?”
He snorted. “Hardly.”
The owner appeared, carrying a tray with their sandwiches. Her dark hair was shot through with silvery streaks, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “Two enchilada sandwiches, two chips. Anything else?”
Roman thanked her and she nodded and left. He handed Brooke her sandwich and she snagged a napkin from the stack on the tray. “So this is an enchilada sandwich.” Sauce dripped from the edge of the bread. “Kinda messy, isn’t it?”
“Wait until you taste it.”
She bit in, sauce running down her hand that she mopped at as she moaned softly. “You’re right, it’s amazing.”
They ate for several minutes in silence before Brooke took a drink and asked, “Did you grow up in San Diego?”
Watching her eat, her tongue flicking out to lick sauce from the corner of her mouth nearly rendered him speechless. A dab of the hot sauce ended up on her jaw and he wanted to lean over and kiss it off.
What is wrong with me?
He’d been crushing on her for nearly a year, but she’d been damn hard to access. He’d given up on his little fantasies for awhile, yet here they were, rushing back with a vengeance. She could do something completely normal, like eat in front of him, and it stirred up things down below. The image of her in the skirt from that morning surfaced, as did the memory from the previous night when she’d wound her leg around his and whispered in his ear,don’t miss.
“Roman?”
She was watching him, waiting for him to respond, a tiny wrinkle in the center of her forehead. She’d called him by his first name and the sound was like a shot of whiskey going straight to his stomach.
“I uh… What was the question?”
A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Did you grow up in San Diego?
God, he wanted that mouth on him. A fantasy of taking her there on the picnic table jabbed his frontal lobe and the stirring creature below went full-on happy.
Dropping his gaze, he focused on his sandwich, shoving a large portion in his mouth and chewing fervently as he nodded. The heat from the sauce made his eyes tear and he washed the food down with a long swig of his soda. It cooled the heat in his throat, but did nothing to alleviate it farther south. “Yep. My parents still live here. You?”
She opened her chips and picked one out of the bag. “Carlsbad until I was ten. Then we moved around a lot, mostly up north. Irvine, Ventura, Bakersfield for awhile.”
“Siblings?”
“No.”
He already knew the answer to these questions, having run a background check on her when he first realized how much she could add to his taskforce.
But you didn’t score points with people when they realized you used your Homeland clearance to dig up every available bit of dirt on them. “You don’t have much time to spend with family, do you?”
She put her sandwich down and fiddled with her napkin. “Mom has early onset Alzheimer’s and doesn’t know me anymore. Dad died in a car accident a few years ago.” She twisted the napkin between her hands. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Busted. He started to answer, but she cut him off.
“I consult for the SCVC Taskforce. I know how things work. Cooper did a full vet of me even after Director Dupé recommended me to him. So while I give you marks for the idle chitchat, you no doubt know more about me than I do, Mr. Homeland Security.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not personal. It comes with the territory. And yes, I did a background check, and I knew if Harris and Dupé were using you, you must past muster. But I prefer to hear the facts directly from you. I’ve learned there’s a lot more to a person’s life than what’s on paper. And it’s a two-way street. Anything you want to know about me, I’m an open book. Okay?”
She looked slightly abashed and tossed the half-shredded napkin on top of her sandwich. “You’re probably looking forward to seeing your family this weekend, huh?”
One landmine avoided. He went back to his sandwich. “I am. I haven’t seen any of them in a couple months. I miss them.”
She nodded as if she understood, but her eyes were focused on the napkins fluttering in the breeze. “Your job requires a lot of hours.”
