Page 156 of Jonesing for a Spy

And more.

Strider is suspicious the next morning when I tell him we have to go. “You said lunch, but I won’t complain about Mona’s.”

“You never do.” Moving to the driver’s side of the car, I swing in. “I swear she’s taken to you. If I didn’t have a ring on my finger…”

“She’s not my type.” He pulls off his glasses and wipes them down. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to my glasses fogging just because I dared to step outside.” Sliding them back on, he continues, “But I can’t argue, she can cook.”

That she can. She’s no Queenie with the sauces and creative concoctions, but the woman can man the fryer and griddle like no one’s business.

It takes a while before he even questions where we’re heading. “Are we trying someplace new?”

“No. Just going someplace we haven’t been in a while.”

“I don’t remember eating this far away since I moved.”

“Oh, you’ll recognize the place.” Making a left into the parking lot, I put the car in park and enjoy the shock on his face.

“We’re at the airport. Did I miss the memo that food courts are your thing?”

“Come on, honey. Trust me?” I exit the car and head for TSA.

“With everything I am, yes.” He catches up, grabbing my hand and walking next to me. “But I’m suspicious.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t by now.”

I hold up my phone, showing two QR codes for our tickets and drop my purse on the conveyor belt. Strider follows, placing his wallet and keys in the bucket.

“Really suspicious,” he reiterates as he slides through security to find me waiting.

Mobile airport is small. Within three minutes, we’re at our gate and within fifteen, we’re on board. The beauty of this airport is “one hour early” means an hour to kill. Walk through and walk on. It’s perfect.

“So…” he begins, buckling his seatbelt. “Nashville?”

“I’m craving Dimitri’s. And I wanted something unforgettable for your first birthday as my fiancé.”

“How about my only birthday as your fiancé? Can we get busy with wedding plans?”

“Yeah. I have some ideas,” I offer, knowing they’re firmer than ideas.

“Want to clue me in to those?” he asks as our plane lifts into the sky.

“Not yet. They’re still percolating.”

“You agreed, you know.” He levels me with his gaze. “I could always kidnap you to Vegas or something, and we could elope. Except your brothers have very colorful ways of killing me and wrecking the evidence.”

“And you’re not taking into account Mom and Dad.”

“Hypothetically, do you think your dad would be as brutal as your mom?”

I bob my head repeatedly. “Oh yeah. Don’t let him fool you with that author persona. Mom might revel in it and take her time to make it hurt. Dad would just slit your throat and stand over you as you bled out. Quick and clean. They’re yin and yang.”

Strider shivers next to me.

“Now, if you’re okay with it, I’m gonna nap.” Lifting the arm rest, I burrow my shoulder under his arm and rest my face on his shoulder.

I’m not terribly sleepy, but I’m on a mission and don’t want to blow my cover.

Once an agent… Always an agent.