Page 84 of Devilish Debt
I wanna get used to it.
But I don’t.
Pretty sure Ishouldn’t.
Our stroll along the water starts in silence yet doesn’t remain that way for long due to curiosity getting the better of me.
Asking Garcia about the dish he whipped up leads to talking a little bit about his family, something I quickly realize we rarely discuss.The conversation doesn’t take long to curl towards his sibling – who he is apparently pretty close to, which explains why she comes up often in casual conversation – and places they meet regularly for lunch or dinner.Hearing him talk so fondly and openly andwarmly– like he isn’t in front of a judge or jury or gallery – has a soft voice in the caverns of my mind whispering to keep going.
Keep him chatting.
Chill and vulnerable.
“Okay,” I flick a loose strand away from my forehead, “what’s the fanciest food you’ve ever eaten?”
A deep breath of contemplation precedes one hand sliding into his pocket.“That’s a good question.”
“I would never ask a bad one.”
“Justdobad things?”
“Precisely.”
Another round of small chortles is exchanged prior to him answering, “I guess…I would have to say…eitherFoie GrasorJamon Iberico.” Our gazes momentarily connect during our turn to head back the way we came.“Both were served at work events I attended.”
“For the rich and famous, I presume.”
“Wealthy clients aren’t the only ones I serve; however, I do take their cases to aid in serving the ones that have significantly less like my best friend and his family – pre married life.”
“Nolan.”
“Sí.”
“Who is married to Kipp and Bunny?”
He lets the corner of his lips kick upward.“You do listen.”
“Always.”Leaning in a little closer occurs in between statements.“It’s thecaringthat’s wishy washy, not my hearing, counselor.”
“Sabes que odio que me llames así.”
“I do know you hate it when I call you that…that’swhy I do it.”
“Of course it is, Princess.”The glare he’s thrown is accompanied by me purposely kicking a bit of sand at his pantleg.“Your turn.”
Quirking a quick eyebrow in his direction is all that’s done.
“What’s thestrangestseafood dish you’ve ever had?”
“Eithermarmitako– which is fish stewmade onthe fishing vessel – orTiradito– raw bluefin tuna thinly sliced withleche de tigresauce – and a boiled sweet potato.”
“The latter is quite expensive.”
“It was,” I adjust the grip on my sandals, “but I’m worth it.”
“More.”
The flirtatious response receives a sweet, bashful beam that I do my best to bury.
