Page 49 of Covert Mission
I pivot my head slowly and glare at him. “You wouldn’t dare…”
“I guess you’ll have to find out.”
ChapterFourteen
I’ve got her number. Shewillgive in and eat.
And I will figure out what that cryptic conversation was about when she said she was fishing in Alaska.
When we hit thecabina, I push open the door, check for intruders, and when I’m satisfied, I motion her inside. “All clear.”
Camile takes up a spot in the center of the room. Her hands fidget nervously with the strap of her backpack.
She was nervous about her belongings earlier. What’s she got in there?
“Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.”
I drop into a chair and rip open the side of the sack of food. “Fuck, these smell good.”
My mouth waters. My eyes widen as I take in the spread. A violent rumble comes from my stomach. “Now this is a feast.”
As I grab three tamales, I give serious thought to throwing off their corn-husk wrappers and shoving them all in my mouth at once.
Impatient, I motion for her to come to the table. “You like tamales?”
“I guess.”
When I stand up and hold her chair out for her, she looks at me with a suspicious frown.
“You don’t know?”
“I’m not sure. I think I’ve had them before.” I scoot her closer to the table, but she leans away from me.
As I take my seat, the feet of her chair scrape on the painted wooden floor. She scoots as far from me as possible. As if two feet of space could keep me away. I’m six-foot-three with a six-six wingspan. I can practically reach all the way across thecabina.
I chuckle. “What’s wrong?”
She makes a face before she sighs out a tired sound. “I’m just in a snit.”
The old wooden chair frame beneath me creaks loudly when I lean back on two legs. When it doesn’t explode, I go back to wondering about Camile.
Her moods are interesting. “Your blood sugar is low.”
Camile drags a hand through her hair, snagging the band that’s holding her ponytail. Waves of dark red curls tumble around her shoulders as she frowns. “Is that what’s wrong with me?”
I get a case of cottonmouth and my fingers get all twitchy. I can smell her shampoo from where I’m sitting. I love apples.
Now I have a new reason to love them even more.
Trying to sound casual takes work. “Of course. You haven’t eaten for most of the day. That’s part of the problem. The other part is that you hate me. The idea of sitting down to break bread with me repulses you.”
I don’t mention that she’s hiding something. That does all kinds of weird things to people.
Her mouth hinges open. Then closes. “That’s a rather presumptive statement.”
“It’s the truth.”