Page 40 of The Texan's Secrets

“When I left foster care, I didn’t have any money at all.” She sipped her martini, remembering waitressing until late at night at the Pineview Café, dragging herself out of bed early in the dank basement suite she’d rented on the cheap, then jolting her brain with caffeine to focus on her learning.

“You definitely pulled yourself up by the bootstraps.” There was admiration in his voice.

“I have watched a lot of teachers over the years,” she said. “Maybe I subconsciously worked out what I thought was good and bad about the way they approached subjects.”

“You’re a very clear communicator.”

“So are you.” It was one of the things she admired about him. “You’re very poised. Like, all the time. You know, you should give it a try too.” She picked up her phone and hit the video app, pointing it his way. “Do me a quick demo.”

Through the lens, his expression shifted, going hard, a steely, determined look coming up in his eyes. And a split second later, his hand blocked the lens. He lifted the phone from her hand. “Don’t.” His reaction startled her. It seemed so out of character from what she knew of him.

“You can’t be all that camera shy.”

His expression smoothed back to normal. “I am.”

“It was only for fun.”

“I’ll stay behind the scenes.”

She wanted to probe his strong reaction, but the waitress returned to their table. “Are you ready to order?”

Nick looked Emilia’s way, clearly waiting for her to go first. “The fish and chips. Can I substitute sweet potato fries?”

“Certainly.”

The waitress turned her attention to Nick.

“She also wants the brownie,” he said. Then he lifted his brow Emilia’s way, a teasing note in his voice. “Two spoons?”

“You want me to share?” she asked with mock concern.

“I can double the order,” the waitress offered.

“Sure,” Nick answered. “And I’ll take the New York strip.”

“Can I bring you any appetizers?”

“I’m good with the breadsticks,” Emilia answered.

“I’m with her,” Nick said.

As the waitress walked away, Emilia picked up the conversation. “I don’t know why I have to be the only one out of my comfort zone.”

“I thought we were both pretty far into our comfort zones.” The mischievous smirk on his face told her he was referring to their lovemaking.

“I mean in front of the camera.”

“We should have ordered some wine.” He twisted in his chair to look around for their waitress. “Do you prefer a white with your fish?”

“Fish and chips isn’t exactly fish.”

“It’s not?”

“From a wine perspective. When you batter them up and smother them with tartar sauce, you don’t need a delicate wine.”

“So, a robust Cabernet Sauvignon? I could go for that.” He raised a discrete finger to get the waitress’s attention.

“We’re not going to talk about it, are we?” Emilia challenged.

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