Page 2 of Falling for My Sister's Heartkeeper
The words are out before I even realize what I'm saying, but there's thankfully no need to blush since all he does is stare at me like he doesn't speak English.
"As a thank you," I say quickly.
He's still silent, so now I'm thinking he's terribly overwhelmed by my generosity.
"Because you saved my life," I add, just in case he needs clarification. "That's basically a documented obligation. Yousave me. I have to feed you. It's in the—" I wave a hand. "It's in the rules."
"And whose rules would that be?" One dark brow climbs a fraction, the most expression he's spent since he strolled in and rearranged my whole evening.
"Mine, of course, so there's no sense in arguing—" I'm already walking as I say this, not wanting to give him a chance to refuse. It's a strategy that's worked for me eight times out of a possible nine hundred, but that doesn't mean I have to give up. In my book, I just need to keep trying, and so that's what I'm doing here.
"Come on, office boy. My treat."
I'm trying to be his friend, that's all.
"I know a place with the kind of dumplings that fix things."
The words come out breezy even as my chest tightens in sudden panic because...what if he doesn't follow?
What do I do then?
Drag him?
Get down on my knees and beg?
I don't even know why I care, but—oh! He's actually following behind me, and after that, well...
The good news: he lets me treat him to dinner.
The bad news: he's terrible at small talk. Or maybe he just doesn't like my company but he's too polite to let me know? He answers every question I ask of him, sure, but he does so withas few words as the English language will legally allow, and he watches me eat like I'm someone defusing a bomb badly.
"So what do you do?" I ask him, mouth full of dumpling.
"Not something I'm interested in disclosing."
Hm.What kind of job gives a man a vocabulary that has him using 'disclosure' in casual conversation? Is he in law enforcement, maybe? But off duty? It's possible, considering how he didn't even hesitate coming to my rescue.
"What about your name? Or is that something you can't disclose either?"
"Won't, not can't." He corrects me without raising his voice, but the corner of his mouth also moves at the same time. Not exactly a smile, but it's something, and well, that tells me everything.
Like I said: I'm smart, but broke, and so now I'm completely convinced I got it right the first time.
A man who doesn't say much, doesn't smile much, and doesn't want to even disclose his name?
Law enforcement, for sure. But undercover, not off duty, hence all the secrecy, and since I'm smart enough not to get in the way of his work...
"I'll just call you Mr. H then," I say cheerfully.
"Please don't."
"Do you want to know why?"
"No."
"H forhot—"
I hold up a finger as I say this. "Honorable—"
