Chapter Twenty-One
Evangeline
Yesterday was fun. I genuinely enjoyed working with Cole, and I was impressed when at the end of the night, he didn’t try anything. He insisted on walking me to my car, and when we got there, he kissed me on the cheek, whispering his goodbye in my ear and that he’d pick me up in the morning.
We made a list of everyone we should talk to, and today we’re heading out to track everyone down together. I should be nervous about it, but oddly enough, I’m not. Last night was comfortable, and I’m actually looking forward to spending the day with him.
Against my better judgment, I gave him my home address, and when I hear the knock on my apartment door, butterflies swirl lightly in my stomach. When I open the door, the sexy guy I first saw in class greets me but in a completely different way.
The first day I saw him he was wearing jeans and looked like a laid-back kind of guy. Now the man before me is wearing a tailored suit, with his dark hair lightly gelled, making it look sexy yet put together.
His smile, though. Man, he’s got one that can knock any girl on her ass.
“Well, hello, Evangeline,” he greets me with a grin.
I’m still getting used to hearing my name again and coming from his lips makes my heart pitter-patter more than I want it to.
I might actually be falling for this guy.
I turn quickly, trying to hide the flush from my face, and grab my purse.
“So who’s first?” I ask as we slide into his Audi S4.
“I mapped out our trip.” He hands me a map with way too much detail on it.
“You’re kidding, right? You really are a nerd,” I tease.
“Ha. Ha,” he deadpans. “I’m prepared. I don’t miss anything or waste any time.” He smirks before pulling away from the curb as we head to the first spot on the printed map and discuss our game plan.
* * *
So far theday is a bust when it comes to the case, but for everything else, it’s been the best I’ve had in a while. Cole’s had me laughing harder than I’ve done in years and has made me blush more times than I can count.
Now we’re pulled over on 17thStreet at a taco truck. “Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, staying in my seat.
He walks around, opening my door. “Come on. It’s the best taco truck you’ll ever have.”
His hand is outstretched, offering to help me out of his low car, and I grab it. Once I’m up, though, he doesn’t let go, and I allow him to keep his hold on me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with a guy like this. Even though we’re working, we’ve spent a lot of time in the car together today and have talked for most of it. He’s told me about his family and his little sister who’s just about to graduate college.
The look on his face almost made me spit out the water I was drinking when I asked how he’d feel if she joined a club like Bridge. I told him he had some massive double standards, and his only comeback was that he didn’t care, and there was no way in hell.
As we approach the truck, I look up at the menu, asking, “What’slengua?” Trying my hardest to pronounce it correctly.
He lets out a loud laugh. “It’s tongue.”
I quickly turn to walk back to the car, and he laughs even harder, stopping me in my tracks. “Come on. I’ll order for you.” I eye him suspiciously, so he continues, “I promise, is carne asada okay? It’s grilled steak.”
I hit his stomach. “I know what that is. And fine. Order for me. But I’m putting my stomach in your hands.”
He leans in, kissing my cheek. “I’ll take whatever part of you I can get.”
After ordering we walk over to some picnic tables and sit to wait for our food.
“You’ve really never heard of lengua? Where are you from?”
The thought of lengua makes me want to gag in my mouth again, and I have to shake off the notion. “I’m from Minnesota, from about the smallest town you can think of. And no, there’s no tongue eating happening there.”
