AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, I’m not from around here.”
“Where are you from?”
“Up near Belle Vernon.” Of course he had to lie about where he lived.
Just like he had to lie about his name, what he drove, why he was dancing with the Peckers, among other things. He was a walking, talking pack of lies. And he hoped if there came a time where he told her the truth, she’d understand why he did so and not hold it against him.
“How’s the food at the cafe?” Not that he was really hungry, but he’d order something so she wouldn’t feel self-conscious eating.
“The best. They now know me well in there because whenever I get stuck working a double shift—because of Cookie not showing up—I call in a take-out order.”
“Then, would you rather eat somewhere different tonight?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s good, it’s close and it’s getting late.”
She was right. It only took a few minutes until he was pulling into a mostly empty parking lot in front of the Walnut Hill Cafe. He found a spot by the door and, as soon as he shut off the engine, he hurried to get out and open the passenger door for her.
He offered his hand to help her out and she took it, having a hard time keeping the surprise, tinged with amusement, from her face.
“What?” Once she was on her feet, he closed and locked the doors, reluctantly releasing her hand.
She shook her head. “I’ve never had a man open my car door for me.”
That stopped him in his tracks. “Never?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He made sure to hold open the diner’s door for her, too.
Right inside the entrance, a sign directed them to seat themselves. Even though the diner was basically empty, he steered her to a quiet back corner. Before they had even settled into the booth, a waitress appeared, dropping off menus, ice water and taking their drink orders, then she was gone in a flash.
Once they were alone again, MJ stared across the Formica table at him, wearing a pensive look.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
Her lips curved at the corners. “Besides those adorable freckles? No.”
He used the back of both hands under his chin to frame his face and batted his eyelashes. “Aww. I haven’t been called adorable since I was like five or so. And it was by my grandmother. Do you also have tissues and Werther’s Originals stashed in all your pockets?”
He hoped she’d find that funny and laugh, but when she didn’t, he kept his gaze locked with hers and waited her out. Obviously she was working through something in her head. Not a few seconds later, her expression turned curious. “I couldn’t find anything on you.”
Well, damn.
No surprise she didn’t since the feds hadn’t taken a lot of effort building his background. Not like they had with Fletch and Wilder. Because of going undercover with the Dirty Angels, their identities had been well thought out and extensive. In contrast, Finn was only supposed to dance with the Peckers for one or two nights and then bounce. No one expected anyone to dig deep on who he was.
Even so, he was impressed she even gave it a shot instead of blindly agreeing to go to dinner with him. “Do you normally try to dig up dirt on your dates?”
“Is this a date?”
He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve actually dated. Life’s been a bit hectic with working long hours and as you might know, dating isn’t easy. But to answer your question, yes, I try to do a little research first. I mean, it would be foolish not to. Just imagine discovering later that I could’ve easily googled someone to find out they murdered their whole family and buried them out in the woods. Women can’t be too careful nowadays.”
“But despite not finding anything, you still got in my car and came to dinner with me.”
“I had to trust my gut instinct.”
“How did you search? I never gave you my last name.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “I asked Nick.”
Damn. She wasn’t fucking around. “And he gave it to you?”
“I explained that you wanted to take me out to dinner and I don’t go out with anyone I can’t google first. I especially don’t get in a man’s car when I don’t have his complete name. My gut instinct is decent, but it’s not perfect.”
“What if I’m using a fake name?”
She held his gaze across the table. “Are you?”
He gave the best answer he could without outright lying. “My name’s Daniel.”
“That’s the same as Danny, then.”
In his case, it wasn’t. “Just so you know, having a man’s name isn’t enough to keep you safe.”
“I’m full aware of that, Danny O’Neill. Especially when a man has no online presence.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Not even any social media accounts. That’s rare these days. Do you prefer Danny or Daniel?”
