Fractured Freedom(39)
“Mofongo. It’s plantains and garlic and olive oil, with a few hidden ingredients, fried and mashed together. If done right, it’s the best thing in Puerto Rico.”
“I think I can officially check off my favorite food here, and I haven’t even explored good food outside of this hotel.”
“We will.” He stood leaning against the counter while he watched me eat.
“Do you want some?”
“Already ate.”
“Well, you can’t keep feeding me and not eating, Dante. It’s weird to have you watch me eat every single time.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” he murmured. “Anyway, I just came by to give you food and let you know I won’t be around much tomorrow.”
“That’s fine. I have work and …” I physically had to stop myself from combing a hand through my hair. Was it weird that I didn’t want to tell him about my scheduled date too? “So, I guess we won’t see each other much for the next few days.” I wrung my hands around and around at the thought.
Dante immediately caught me doing it and slid a hand into mine. I glanced up at him in confusion, but he didn’t let go. “What’s worrying you? You wring your hands when you’re nervous.”
“Well, do I tell everyone at work what happened?” I squeaked out. Jesus, what would I say? Sorry, on my few days off, I got arrested for carrying drugs, but it’s fine. I wasn’t actually guilty. Just my sister.
“No.” Dante took my chin in his big hand and turned me to look at him. “You tell no one. Got it? You did nothing wrong in the eyes of the law. To everyone, on paper, it was a complete misunderstanding. In three weeks or so, Izzy will be out too and we’ll finish things up and be gone. If you’re going to stay here longer than that, you just go about your business like nothing happened.”
“Okay,” I whispered, but my brain wasn’t catching up. I tried to tell myself this was all right, but it felt all wrong. How could I go back and work in the ER with sick patients and act like I was an upstanding citizen when I’d been in jail this last week? I sighed and grabbed a plastic fork from the bag to dig into the food.
He leaned against the counter and watched me eat. When I moaned around the food, he chuckled.
“One day, I’ll learn to cook this.” I pointed to the food. “You sure you don’t want any?”
His eyes twinkled as he shook his head and kept smiling at me. “I’m not going to take your happiness from you.”
“It is seriously pure joy. Good food and good books are probably my favorite things. And I need them right now because I’m about to go to work and have to speak a second language while worrying about whether or not they think I’m a criminal.”
Dante knocked his knuckles on the counter, grabbing my attention. “Focus on your job, Lilah. Don’t worry, okay? I’m going to have to teach you new tricks to calm that overwhelming anxiety of yours, aren’t I?”
“It won’t help. This is a serious situation, Dante.”
He stepped toward me like we’d been in each other’s personal space a million times before. I leaned back because we hadn’t. Not for years. “If you say so, I guess I’ll believe you. Actually, in all my time in the military and working for the government, I haven’t been thrown in jail.”
“Yeah, well, you have credentials. I don’t. What if my supervisors find out I lied? They did a background check. I take care of people for a living, and they can’t have a criminal working among them. What if they sue me or something? I don’t want to go broke and be thrown back in jail. Or worse, lose my license.”
He shook his head and chuckled before covering my rapid-fire mouth with one large hand while putting the other behind my head to hold me in place. “Stop talking, Lilah.”
“But …” It came out garbled, and his hand tightened to keep me quiet.
“Listen to the silence.”
I squinted at him and, after being silent for a second, threw up my hands. I shoved his hand off my mouth. “What are you talking about? That doesn’t work.”
“It does. The silence tells you to calm down and realize there’s a world around you still moving, still making noise. There’s no real silence because your little catastrophe didn’t end the world.”
“This isn’t little!” I screeched and stood up, moving away from my food. I took a breath. God, would he make fun of me if I started counting? I spun away from him. “And on top of all this, I have a date tomorrow after work with Allan.”
“A date?” He narrowed his eyes. “A date? You think that’s smart right now?”
“I’ve been putting it off. We already went on two, and he knows I’m supposed to be back in town by then. I can’t stand him up.”
He hummed but didn’t share his opinion. He just stared at me, his piercing green gaze assessing. His jaw flexed, and the tattoos on his neck seemed to grow bigger and bigger. “Fuck it,” he grumbled before he said, “You’re tense. Let’s try something to relieve some of that, huh? I’ll go get it.”
I was about to respond, but he turned slowly, pointedly not heading back toward the hallway. Instead, he walked past my plush bed, past the nightstand, and right to the wall.