“So we buy a new glass that’s even more beautiful than the first one.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “You need to let me go, Jackson. The ink is dry. We’re done. It’s over.”
“If we’re so over, why are you still here? I don’t mean this business with Nina,” he added before she could get a word in. “You could have gone anywhere in the country—hell, anywhere in the world if you set your mind to it. But you put down roots in Orlando.”
Her expression didn’t waver. “I like it here.”
“You hate the heat.”
“That’s what air conditioning is for.”
“And tourists.”
“Which is exactly why you’ll never find me anywhere near the theme parks.”
Slightly amused, he gave her a look. “Bugs?”
He knew for a fact that she hated cockroaches, especially those huge suckers that had a habit of flying when you tried to swat them. The only time he’d ever heard her scream was when she went into the bathroom in the middle of the night and found one on the toilet paper roll.
Her chin tipped up in defiance. “I keep a can of Raid in every room.”
He rested his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. This close, he caught a whiff of her sweet floral scent, and it damn near drove him wild. “Admit it; you’re here because of me.”
She scoffed. “In your dreams.”
Jackson grinned, his gaze meeting hers, and he felt the buzz of electricity between them that made his whole body burn. It was all he could do not to kiss her senseless. “No, my dreams are a whole lot better than this. If you like, I’ll tell you all about them.”
A flush swept up her neck and into her cheeks, a rarity for her. Usually, she was much better at masking her emotions.
The waitress returned once again to drop off their meals:ropa viejafor Essie andpechuga a la planchafor Jackson. She promised to get them a fresh round of drinks and then disappeared into the crowd.
“Smells good,” Essie said as she picked up her fork.
“Best you’ll ever eat, guaranteed.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “That’s a pretty tall order.”
“Tell you what,” he said, throwing caution to the wind. “If that’s not the best damnropa viejayou’ve ever eaten, I won’t say another word about us getting back together. But if it is, you’ve got to give us another shot. An honest shot.”
She paused, her fork halfway to the plate. “What makes you think I’d be crazy enough to take a bet like that?”
“Because you don’t think a place like this can beat what you’ve eaten in Havana. Because it’s hard for you to turn down what you consider a sure thing.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice a little, not out of concern over people eavesdropping, but because he wanted her to lean forward a little too. When she did, a thrill went through him. She was close enough to kiss, though he somehow resisted the temptation. “But maybe a part of you is hoping to lose, so you’ll have a convenient excuse to do what you’ve convinced yourself you shouldn’t.”
She chuffed out a breath as she rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Then do we have a bet?”
“Sure. Whatever.” She shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, chewed a few times, and Jackson could tell the exact moment she knew she’d lost the wager. “Damn it.”
Chapter 16
It was times likethese when Essie regretted being a woman of her word.
From the corner of her eye, she stole a glance at Jackson as he drove away from the Cuban restaurant, and her heart stuttered in her chest. Of course, she could always refuse to abide by the terms of their wager. Their bet wasn’t legally binding. But even spies had a code of honor, which pretty much meant she was screwed.
“You okay?” Jackson’s voice smoothed over her like a caress. “You’ve been awful quiet ever since dinner.”
“Of course. I’m fine.”
