Page 69

“Are you from Louisiana?” she asks, turning back to me and searching my face. I shake my head, trying real fucking hard not to think about my past or where I came from.

“No,” I answer her. Memories are rattling around in the neat and tidy little boxes I shoved them into in my mind and I don’t want her to see that. “Colorado.”

She tightens her grip on my finger and it gives me something to focus on.

“What brought you out here?”

I shrug, looking over at the river. “I just kinda… ended up here.”

She lets out a little hum but doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t push me for more answers. Instead, she releases my finger and picks up her second taco.

Fuck.

Did I just completely ruin this?

I look up and she meets my eyes, offering me a little smile as she holds the taco to me. “Want to try mine?”

“Sure,” I say, a knot in my throat as I take the taco from her and take a bite. It’s good. But I’m more focused on her, on the way she got us through that awkward fucking moment and made it light and… easy again.

“Here,” I say, handing her taco back over to her. I pick up one of mine and pass it over as well. “Try this one. It’s better.”

She laughs as she takes the taco from me and takes a bite.

Her little hum of approval feels like everything.

“It’s good,” she says, a sparkle in her eyes as she watches me. Then, she scrunches her nose up in the cutest fucking look I’ve ever seen. “But mine is still better.”

“The hell it is,” I bark out, laughing. “We’re gonna have to work on your tastes.”

She shrugs, a coy smile on her face that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. “I wouldn’t complain about my tastes too much. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“Babe, that’s even more of a reason we gotta work on them.”

She giggles, the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard in my goddamn life and we both go back to our food. She’s looking out towards the river again and I swear, I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of hers. After a few bites, she turns back to me.

“What’s your favorite pastry?”

I almost choke on the bite of food in my mouth. “What?”

“I think you can tell a lot about a person by their favorite pastry so what’s yours?” she asks, watching me while she waits for an answer. I grin.

“I’ve had a real soft spot for cinnamon rolls lately.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t try to sweet talk me. This is a serious question.”

“How is this a serious question?” I ask, genuinely baffled but also amused as hell. I don’t understand how my favorite pastry could tell her anything about me but she’s not backing down.

“It just is.” She arches a brow, determination written all over her face. “Now, tell me.”

“A maple bacon bar.”

She flashes me a wide grin and nods. “Yep. That’s what I thought.”

“Oh, really?” I laugh, shaking my head. “This answered all your questions about me?”

She nods. “It did.”

“All right. Well, care to share with the rest of the class?” I ask and she shakes her head, looking way too damn pleased with herself.