“I understand,” he said. “No need to apologize.”
She eyed him like she was trying to figure out if he meant it or if he was only being polite.
“I’m going to get us some ice cream."
"What?"
"Ice cream." She over-enunciated the words, a new playfulness dancing in her eyes. “There’s a place on the ferry, on the top deck, where they sell ice cream. I saw it yesterday on my way over. What flavor do you want?”
He was relieved to see her in a better mood. “Surprise me."
She grinned. “Okay. I’m leaving Nutmeg with you."
"I can handle him. We’ll take a short walk. Meet us on the starboard side.”
She rubbed Nutmeg behind his ears. "Okay, meet you there."
A few minutes later, she joined him and Nutmeg, with two ice cream cones. “They didn’t have many choices,” she said. “Vanilla or chocolate?” She’d bought one of each.
“Either one. You choose."
She cocked her head. “Okay.” She kept the vanilla and handed him the chocolate. She took a few petite bites and grinned. “It’s good."
He licked the chocolate cone, catching a few stray drips with his tongue before they landed on Nutmeg’s head. “Not bad. Thanks.”
She returned a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You're thinking about telling me not to go to the party."
Wow.The statement caught him off-guard. And knocked the breath out of him. "You know, I've been told I'm difficult to read. You're exceptionally intuitive." He stared at her for a couple of beats.
She licked her ice cream, eyes fused to his, waiting silently for an answer.
He glanced out at the turquoise rolling waves. But they didn't offer any suggestions. He looked back at her and raised the chocolate ice cream cone.
"Is that what this was for? A bribe to get me to take you to the party?"
She looked offended. He'd meant it as a joke. He raised his other hand.
"I'm messing with you. Sorry." He drew in a deep breath. "You're right. Going to the party could be very helpful. It's not a terrible idea." He prayed she could hear the warning in his voice. "But it is dangerous. And I can't promise you Cassidy will be there."
She started to say something, but he cut her off.
"If we do this, we have to do it my way. You have to do what I ask you to do. This is a dangerous situation. And this isn't your area of expertise."
"I understand, I do. I'll follow your lead."
She looked sincere. But he still had doubts.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
The expression on her face worried him.
"I'll follow your lead," she repeated. "I know this is your area of expertise. We'll do it your way."
He didn't miss that she intentionally avoided using the wordtrust. He tried not to take it personally. Her trust issues likely hadnothing to do with him.
There were many layers to Lena Ashworth. And he needed to tamp down his desire to peel back those layers. Lena's safety may be part of his mission, but nothing more.
She nibbled gracefully at her ice cream cone, which was an impressive feat that he was incapable of, apparently. His dripped all over the place. He took a couple large bites to provide some damage control.
