Page 32 of Healing Conviction
But am I?
CHAPTERTWELVE
Nora would’ve bet her beloved Hedwig purse that her cowardice and self-imposed sexual tension would’ve kept her from napping. But as soon as her head hit that pillow, she’d been out like a light. The next thing she knew, Drake was waking her up to leave for the P&P. Still, his direct AF question ruminated forefront in her mind as she freshened up.
“Nora… do you like me?”
Obviously, I like you, you sexy, grumpy Viking wet dream. I wish I could ride your longship to Valhalla and back again but I know my heart won’t survive the trip.
Now that she was awake, she was burning to lay all her cards out on the table, but that would’ve involved a level of introspection and acceptance she didn’t have the courage for yet.
So to keep from spilling her secrets, she refused to think about it herself.
Instead, she focused hard on not caring how Drake’s fingers warmed the thin material of her sundress as he helped her into his truck.
She definitely didn’t worry about how her stomach flipped twice, once when she was lifted, and once when his small smile and ocean eyes laughed at a stupid pun she made.
Her mind was totally somewhere else while his hands circled the steering wheel and definitely not thinking about the weird fluttery sensation that firm, confident grip made her feel in her core.
No, she was zoned in on the task at hand, not daydreaming at all, right up until Drake’s brusque tone snapped her out of her daze to realize she’d accidentally let him take the reins in the questioning.
Gods-freakin’-dammit I’m screwed.
“What do you mean she never showed?”
The contentment she’d felt evaporated as Nora took in the huge, grumpy—scratch that,hellaangry—line cook-slash-assistant manager, glaring at them. He was the embodiment of menacing as he slowly crossed his arms, showing off equally angry skull tattoos.
Yeah, Drake’s accusatory delivery wasnotgoing to get this man on their side. Judging from the cook’s stiff muscles, tired posture, and the greedy way he drank Nora in, she had two persona options.
It was time to turn on either the over-complimentary, ditzy flirt, or go with the classic no-nonsense broad. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to use her feminine wiles to her advantage, but the first character required her voice to take on a pitch and cadence that always made her want to use one of Drake’s toothpicks to rupture her eardrums. She couldn’t deny it worked like a charm, though.
“Excuse me, I got this.” She cleared her throat and placed her hand on Drake’s forearm, gently tugging him away from the only person outside of BlackStone Securities who might actually give Drake a run for his money. Only because he was still recovering, of course, and because this…Joey—according to his name tag—had a chef’s knife bigger than her head.
“No call, no show, huh?” At Joey’s terse nod, Nora continued. “That must be sodifficult.” She traced her index finger lightly down his sweaty, hairy arm, over the ‘I heart mom’ tattoo. “At my last job, when bartenders failed to show up without a word, us shot girls had to bust our booties just to get by.”
Joey gave her an eyebrow raise of approval before relaxing under her touch. “You got that right. Now we’re short staffed and I can’t rightly be bothered to sit here and shoot the shit with you and your little boyfriend. What d’y’need her for?”
Nora giggled and swatted at the air. “Oh, silly. He’s not myboyfriend.” Heat from Drake’s stare bored into her back, but she did her best to ignore it. Instead, she plastered on a flirty smile and laid on a Southern accent so thick it’d make her Ashland County, born and raised boss, Jules, proud. “You must worksohard. I hate to keep you, but Shanna and I are family—”
“Shanna ain’t got no family,” Joey grunted, and his muscular forearm tensed underneath her fingertip.
Hates liars. No nonsense it is, thank the goddesses.
She let the character switch take over and settled into a stance similar to his, countering his gruffness with Southern sass, rather than saccharine. “You got me, Joey. We just need to talk to her, is all. She might have some information that could really help a lot of people.”
“S’that so?” A wheezy laugh barreled out of him until he hacked one final painful-sounding cough into his short shirt sleeve. Gearing up to speak, he pointed the knife at her like it was a finger.
Suddenly, her back was flush to a human wall, but she slipped her hand behind her to tug on the hem of Drake’s shirt to hopefully get him to calm down.
“I don’t reckon Shanna’ll care much ‘bout all that, to tell you the truth. She’s more concerned about her next high than even comin’ to work to pay for it. Doubt she’ll wanna help a stranger.”
“She might surprise you—” Nora bit back the rest of her retort.
Joey’s words had hit a nerve, but defending Shanna wouldn’t get the answers they wanted. He certainly knew her better than Nora did. She stretched her lips into a smile.
“Why don’t you give her the chance to do the right thing. Is there any information you can give us about her?”
He twirled the knife in his hand and studied them both before shaking his head. “Not for the both of ya.” His eyes settled on her, leering down her body in a way that made her queasy.