Page 7
Story: Secrets
Her head shakes with just the slightest movement. “No. But in retrospect, the man who asked me to meet him here likely was.”
“And he asked you to meet himhere?”
She nods once, the corner of her lips twitching in the smallest hint of a smirk. “Is there something wrong with this place?”
“No,” I rush out, and with somewhat more grace than I did at the bar, I slide into the empty seat across from her, and set our drinks down. “But it damn sure isn’t where I’d bring someone on a date. Especially not someone like you.”
Her head inclines a fraction. “Someone like me?”
“A drop-dead stunning vixen. I mean, there’s more competitive testosterone here than in the entire state of Georgia.”
“Ah. So you don’t enjoy challenges.” Her voice borders playful but her expression remains impassive. I’m not sure why I like that so much, but I do.
Enticed, I lean forward, a palm flattening on the table. “That’s actually my favorite pastime. I’m just saying, there are much more appropriate places to take a gal.”
“A gal,” she repeats, her blinks becoming slow. I can’t tell if she’s annoyed or entertained and the thought makes my skin itch. “Please tell me, officer…”
“Agent Frances,” I say out of habit, but quickly shake my head. “Jessica.”
“Agent Frances.” I watch her tongue flick as she tests out my name, and I quickly realize I’d like to hear her say it again. “And where is ityouwould take a gal likeme?”
I’m hot. It’s hot in this place. Am I sweating?
Adjusting in my seat, I smile brightly, not missing the way her eyes briefly flicker to my mouth. “It all depends.”
“On what?”
I clear my throat. One thing I’ve always excelled at in life is flirting. Coming on to people. Making my intentions clear and pretty straightforward, especially considering I’m the fall-hard-and-fast type. But something about this woman has me choking on my own damn spit. I’m definitely not getting completely straight vibes—though that’s seldom stopped me before—but I can’t seem to get my words out right. Is this what being nervous feels like?
“I would say…” I make one more fleeting scan of her and read her much like I would a profile that’s rolled across my desk.
Perfect nude nail polish, but there’s something dingy at the edge of a few of her cuticles.Could be from a garden. Or maybe a houseplant.
Beautifully styled hair, but a small dent across a few missed curly coils.She likely wore her hair in a ponytail, which could indicate work in that gardenorevidence of a recent workout.
Small, designer crossbody purse.Could be a gift, or show off her taste while the size implies she only likes taking the essentials with her.
And finally, thick boots with dirt flakes on the bottom edge.Meaning she’s definitely worn them outside.
“Hiking at sunset,” I say decisively, grabbing my drink and taking a tentative sip.
The woman’s head tips back, something close to amusement passing over those gorgeous eyes. “Interesting. Well, I guess I can only hope the next person who asks me on a date is as…intuitive.”
“Why not the cop?”
She lifts a shoulder idly. “Seeing as I’ve been here for well over an hour, I don’t think he’s coming.”
A strange type of anger and elation swirls through me. The thought that someone would get a yes from this woman and then have the fucking audacity to stand her up is both comical and appalling.
“What a dick.” I push the drink Little Tim made toward her. “Allow me to make up for some of that lost time.”
She cocks her head, and after a moment that stretches on a second too long and has butterflies taking flight, she nods. “Why not?”
Seven Years Old
“You’re a worthless piece of shit.” Daddy yanks on Mommy’s arm, jerking her from the floor.
He does that a lot. Almost every night. Pushes her down and then picks her back up again. He doesn’t like to see her hurt, even though he’s the one who’s hurting her. He’s always so mad, yelling about everything and nothing. It’s confusing, and all Mommy does is tell me not to worry. But I always worry. When I’m at the table doing schoolwork. When I’m in the garden planting new flowers. When I first wake up and when I close my eyes to fall asleep.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7 (Reading here)
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
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- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
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- Page 47
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- Page 49
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- Page 52
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- Page 54
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- Page 57
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- Page 71
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- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76