The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,38
and Jared likes intel he can trust.”
“You know Jared well, huh?”
She shrugged. “Yeah.”
Hagan waited. That was the only answer he was going to get without pushing. Once again, he bit his tongue, then changed the subject. “Are you still hungry?”
“Yes.” Both her voice and body language seemed lighter. “How do you feel about a picnic?”
Hagan glanced over. They’d reached the edge of the park, and though it was well lit, he wasn’t sure that plopping on the grass with takeout would score him good-date points. “Is that what you want?”
“Well.” Her lips rolled together. “We could grab something to go, and there’s this place with an amazing view at my building.”
“If that’s what you want.” He grinned when she lit up, nodding. “All right then.” Hagan pulled out his phone and opened a restaurant app. They ordered, and he calculated it would take the same amount of time to walk to the location as the app said was needed to make their meal.
They left the park and reached a street corner. He noted how her gaze swept their surroundings with far more scrutiny than just checking for traffic. “So, your security company.”
“Hm?” They crossed the street.
“Does it offer security personnel?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Where’d you learn how to nail such a great groin shot?” He chuckled. “And, you know your way around a solid pat down.”
“Oh that.” Her forced laughter seemed to buy her time to think of an answer. “What girl doesn’t take a self-defense class or two?”
“Since when do self-defense classes teach how to frisk someone with a hundred pounds on you?”
They stopped in front of the restaurant, and she focused on its sign, stalling. “I watch a lot of TV shows.”
Hagan snickered and shook his head. “If that’s what you’re gonna go with—”
She playfully elbowed him.
He captured her arm again and leaned close to her ear. “You don’t have to tell me yet.”
“Okay,” she whispered as quietly as he’d spoken, nodding against his lips. “I’m trying. Honestly, I’ve never talked about this before.” She turned in his arms and hesitatingly pressed her hands on his chest. “I got hurt.”
That could’ve meant anything, but Hagan didn’t need to know the specifics for his vision to cloud. He managed, “I’m sorry,” when what he wanted to do was demand to know more.
“It changed everything about me. Who I thought I was, how I dressed—”
“How you dressed doesn’t allow someone to hurt you.”
She pressed her forehead to his sternum. “I was different. Hiding in a way that screamed for people to look at me.”
Hagan cupped the back of her head. The remorse in her voice killed him. “You don’t have to say anything more.”
Amanda took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Anyway.” She offered a weak smile. “That was the reason I started my company with my best friend, who saw me through a very dark time.” Her smile strengthened. “All that happened, and somehow it led me to meet you.” Amanda closed her eyes and laughed to herself. “Sorry—” She pulled away. “This is really too heavy for a first date.”
Hell, this didn’t feel like a first date. It felt like he’d stumbled upon a missing piece of who he wasn’t. That would be too much to say on a first date. Hagan caught her hand and led her inside to pick up their dinner. “Then let’s pretend it’s not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Like Amanda had promised, the view was amazing. Hagan stood in the center of the helipad and didn’t mind that they were standing on top of Amanda’s hotel. When he focused on the way she seemed to drink in the night, Hagan decided he didn’t care where the hell they were. “How often do you come up here?”
“More often than anyone knows.” She fluffed her long skirt. He set their takeout at the center of the landing pad, and she crouched. “Can we eat here?”
“Why not?” He laughed, taking a seat. “At least until air traffic demands we relocate.”
The steamy scent of dinner wafted out when he opened the bag. Napkins and plasticware topped several containers. “No plates.”
“We’ll survive.”
“That’s the spirit.” And without plates or much discussion, they dove in, sampling the tapas, laughing that their meal could’ve been awkward. But it wasn’t. He could’ve blamed the delayed dinner, but Hagan decided not to look for a reason.
She set her fork on the edge of a container. “You feel like an old soul.”
“I don’t know if I’ve heard that before.” He tossed his fork down and wiped his