Page 12 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Dana’s senses were overwhelmed the moment she walked into Coop’s.

It was like taking a step back in time. She stood on red bricks that were even older and more uneven than the cobblestoned streets outside.

Besides the old wood, bad lighting, and cheesy neon bar signs, the thing that stuck out to her was the smell.

She’d landed smack dab in the middle of a cauldron full of Cajun spices.

Dana let George do the ordering, which was her first mistake. At first bite, her mouth was on fire, but she couldn’t seem to stop the spoon in her hand from continuing to go back for more.

Doing her best to heed George’s two rules— eat what you’re served, and don’t ask questions —Dana finished the bowl in front of her, sopping up what was left of the mystery broth with a biscuit and washing it all down with an ice-cold bottle of Abita Amber.

She eyed the rest of his red beans and rice, and he laughed, pulling the plate closer to him. “Damn, girl, it’s like you’ve never eaten.”

Dana knew she should be embarrassed, but she was grateful her appetite had returned.

She hadn’t had much of one since she arrived in New Orleans, which was a shame considering the city was bursting with culinary excellence.

Most of the sustenance Dana got, she found at the bottom of a bottle.

Her clothes hung on her slim frame as a result, her unintentional weight loss yet another reminder of the traumatic past she was trying to escape.

“Sorry,” she muttered, finishing her beer.

“Don’t ever apologize to a Creole chef. A healthy appetite is the best compliment you can give,” he said, raising his hand to the busy bar staff.

A moment later another round of drinks appeared, accompanied by a large plate of bayou delicacies.

Dana’s stomach turned, the frog legs needing no explanation.

She could only imagine what other creatures had been served up, deep fried, and seasoned beyond recognition.

Suddenly, her newfound appetite retreated.

Thanks to George’s rules, she hadn’t brought up the fact that she was a vegetarian. And now it seemed too late. She picked up her fresh beer and took a healthy swig as she watched George dig in.

“What’s next?” she asked, setting her beer down.

He grinned. “You’re one of those, aren’t ya?”

“One of what?”

“Someone who always has a plan.”

Dana bit back her automatic retort, knowing it would’ve sounded defensive, because George was right. She was one of those . The hand she’d been dealt in life demanded it. “Don’t assume to know me,” she finally said, finishing her beer.

He held his hands up, smirking all the while. “I wouldn’t dare. Though the detective in me thinks you haven’t spent a lot of time letting go of the reins.”

“Never saw the point.”

He dropped his fork. “Well, you came to the right man.”

She crossed her arms, cocking her head in challenge.

“Let’s give Nawlins control, see where she takes us tonight.”

Their eyes met, a silent standoff. But when George offered his hand, gaze gleaming with mischief, Dana couldn’t fight her desire to accept.

Hand in hand, they stood, dropping cash on the table before rushing back out into the Louisiana night, the staccato of their rushed footsteps adding to the rhythmic jazz drawing them near.