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Ah, she had done some deep diving on him. “Danny’s fine.” It really wasn’t since no one called him that, not even his mother. He preferred Finn, but Danny would work for now. “As for social media, it isn’t my thing. Like you, I guard my privacy and don’t feel the need to share every detail of my life with strangers.”
“What, you don’t think anyone would be interested in a photo of your breakfast?”
He huffed. “Everybody knows what a bowl of Fruit Loops looks like. And if they don’t, they’re not living their life to the fullest.”
When she dropped her head, he could only hear her soft laughter since her hair curtained her face. He reached across the table to sweep it out of the way, but caught himself right before he made contact.
He had his balled up hands already in his lap when she lifted her face, wearing a big smile. Big enough to make her eyes sparkle and the corners crinkle. “Fruit Loops, huh? I haven’t had those since I was a kid.”
“Spoiler alert: somedays I still act like one.”
She wasn’t the only one who’d done a bit of digging. However, he had tools at his fingertips that she didn’t. He had run her license plate through the Department of Motor Vehicles to get her personal details and then ran that info through J-Net, the Pennsylvania Justice Network, to make sure she didn’t have a rap sheet or outstanding warrants.
Her criminal record was clean but he now knew her full name, her address, her birthday… Hell, most details about her. Even how many parking and speeding citations she’d received since obtaining her driver’s license at seventeen.
However, he couldn’t tell her any of that. For now, he’d play dumb and wait for her to share her more personal details with him when she was ready. But having that info in his pocket was also a good way to see if she was truthful and trustworthy. Both were requirements, along with being reliable, to be a good CI. If she was willing to cooperate.
He was about to give her her first test since he knew the answer before asking the question. “So tell me, what does MJ stand for?”
“They’re my initials.”
He released a low chuckle. “I figured that, but that doesn’t answer my question. You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” By not pressuring her and giving her an “out” when it came to getting in the car with him or answering any personal questions, he was trying to build a foundation of trust between them. He not only had to trust her, but he wanted her to trust him, as well.
“I only used MJ at the club for the same reason the girls use stage names and you use the name Blaze. For safety and privacy, of course. I don’t want any of the customers knowing my real name or hunting me down outside of work.”
She pinned her lips together when the waitress brought their drinks and dropped off a basket of warm bread, then asked if they were ready to order. Mel ordered without even glancing at the menu while Finn ordered the soup of the day since he’d already filled his gut earlier at home with a fat, medium-rare steak and a loaded baked potato.
Once the waitress disappeared again, Finn’s attention was pulled back to Mel when she grabbed a roll. After ripping it in two, steam rose from the center as she slathered some butter on both halves. Lifting a piece to her mouth, she said, “Melina Jensen. Outside of the club, I normally go by Mel,” then her straight, white teeth sank into the soft roll.
He watched her lips as she chewed. A crumb got caught in the corner of her mouth and he once again curled his fingers into his palms tightly to prevent reaching across the table and sweeping it away with his thumb. He bit back a groan when her tongue darted out and the clinging crumb disappeared.
Jesus, he never wanted to be a crumb so badly in his life…
He cleared his throat and shook himself mentally so he could concentrate on their conversation. “Very smart. Should I call you Mel or Melina, then?”
“Mel’s fine. Except when you’re at the club Monday.”
He watched her throat undulate as she took a sip of her iced tea. Fuck the freshly baked rolls, he wanted to taste her throat.
Concentrate, you idiot.
He forced himself to nod. “I have no problem keeping your secret as long as you keep mine.”
“Of course. And I appreciate that. Us dancers have to stick together, right?”
“Right,” he murmured as a smear of creamy butter was left behind on her bottom lip with her next bite.
Jesus fuck. His cock decided he wanted in on this conversation. Since when did sloppy eating become so fucking sexy?
