“Spoken like a true chef,” Raquelle said with a chuckle. “Who would’ve thought?” Since she’d done much of the cooking during their marriage, this was a new and exciting side to him that she would need to get used to.
“Not me.” Landon laughed. “I’m not quite ready to give up my day job just yet, but I’ve gotten used to having to cook for myself every now and then—when not taking the easy way out.”
“Since when have you ever taken the easy way out of anything?” she challenged him, knowing that he rarely did anything without giving thought to it beforehand. For better or worse.
“Good point.” He chuckled and grabbed the plate with the chicken thighs. “Let’s go eat.”
They sat on rustic reclaimed curved-back cowhide chairs at the barnwood pedestal dining table.
Raquelle proclaimed, “Mmm, this is delicious!”
Landon laughed. “Glad you’re enjoying the food. I’m still kind of a work in progress as a chef but will happily take the compliment.”
“You should,” she told him, shamelessly forking more pasta salad. “It’s really good.”
“Thanks.” He sliced his knife into a chicken thigh. “Yeah, it’s tasty—but I’m enjoying the company even more, to be honest about it.”
“Is that so?” she asked, fluttering her lashes.
“Yes,” he told her flatly. “It’s nice having you around again.”
“I feel the same,” she admitted, even if unsure what it meant in the evolution of their involvement with one another.
Landon grinned, sipping wine. “Good.”
They were more than halfway through with the meal when Raquelle asked curiously, “What will happen to your case if Eddie isn’t able to fulfill his part of the bargain as your CI?”
“We have more than enough to get a conviction of the main players in our investigation of Native American art forgery and theft,” Landon told her. “When we have all our ducks lined up, we’ll push forward.” He angled hisface. “Eddie still remains an integral part of the case,” he stressed. “He can fill in some blanks that only someone with real inside intel can accomplish.”
Raquelle gazed across the table contemplatively. “Assuming they haven’t already finished off my brother…”I hate to go there with such a relaxing meal, but ignoring the real possibilities won’t make them disappear, she told herself, biting into a dinner roll.
“It’s an assumption I’m not ready to make—and neither should you,” Landon argued. “We’ll continue to search for Eddie with the belief that until his body shows up, he’s still with us—”
She nodded, grateful for his support and hopefulness that her brother was alive and well. “Thank you.”
“There is one thing you might need to consider,” he told her, a break in his voice. “If we do find Eddie and he’s able to testify, he may need to go into the Witness Security Program for his own safety.”
Raquelle flinched, having gotten some basic knowledge on the federal WITSEC as the former wife of an FBI special agent. The idea of finding Eddie only to lose him again as her only living relative was heartbreaking. But needing to look over his shoulder twenty-four seven would be even worse for him—and her.
“I understand,” she said, tasting her wine. “Convincing Eddie may not be so easy. But I’m sure he would prefer to set up shop elsewhere and live a normal life, rather than continually put himself at risk.”
“I think so too,” Landon told her, lifting his own wineglass. “Anyway, I just wanted to throw that out there as something to consider down the line.”
“I’ll do that,” Raquelle promised while knowing thatthey weren’t quite at the point for looking too far ahead on this front. Not with Eddie still missing—his whereabouts unknown. But where it concerned their own relationship, she was beginning to believe that looking ahead wasn’t a bad thing. Especially when she could see herself being with Landon again. Or was that not where things were headed?
* * *
“NOW IT’S MYturn to ask you to play music—on your guitar,” Raquelle said after they had cleared the table.
Landon smiled. “Okay, sure.”
They walked over to the guitar, and he grabbed it, wondering if this would be a good time to serenade her with a song like the old days. Maybe not just yet. He wasn’t quite ready to push the envelope, preferring that she took the lead for what might happen.
Landon started playing the guitar, keeping the rock song lighthearted and fun. Raquelle laughed, clearly enjoying it.
“That was nice,” she told him when he finished.
It will be nicer when we can combine my guitar and your piano playing in perfect harmony, he thought, but he said smoothly, “Thanks.”
