I’m still curious, though, when we pull up in front of a restaurant called Pupusa. “We’re here.”
“I figured,” I tell Connor as he gets out, once again not coming around to open my door. It’s pretty damn clear what he’s doing, trying to push me away. And if I were smart, I’d probably listen to his warnings and stop trying.
We go inside and sit down in a booth. The place is bright with colors, from the orange-red of the floor tiles to the vibrant blue spelling out the restaurant name in a mural along one wall.
Connor looks around while I take a quick glance at the laminated menu, unsure what he’s looking for. Finally, I decide that there are things more important than my grumbling stomach.
“Did you get my laptop?” I ask for the tenth time. Yup, I decided that if he’s going to try and push me away, I’m going to show him how doggedly stubborn I can be. At first, he didn’t answer, but I knew I was making progress when he resorted to grunts. I need some answers, damn it. I need my laptop. So I’ll keep asking. “Helloooo . . . did you get it?” Make that eleven times.
“No.”
“So we’re grabbing a quick bite and then going to get it, I presume?” It’s a question but also . . . not. If he thinks filling me with tamales is going to get me to leave him alone, I’ll prove to him that I can tamale him right under the table.
“I told you I was getting information. I did. Now we’re here. Eat.”
He grabs a chip from the basket between us and bites into it. The crunch sounds final. But I’m not done, not remotely close to it.
“What information? Where is it? When do I get it back?” I look at the door, grabbing my purse as I slide toward the edge of the booth. “Let’s go get it now.”
Quick as a flash, Connor reaches across the table, placing his hand over mine. The touch of his skin against mine is electric, and I freeze, my body tingling with the sensation. It’s just my hand, but the way he makes me feel, I can’t move. “No. We’re not going anywhere. Not yet.”
I swallow back the shock, searching his face through narrowed eyes. “What? Why?”
Connor releases my hand, his lips twitching up in a half smile. “Anyone ever tell you that you ask a lot of questions?”
“More people than you can imagine,” I reply with a snort. “Better ones than you, too.” The dig is a leftover snipe from our earlier fight popping back up because I’m desperate to get my laptop back and lashing out.
But Connor doesn’t take the bait. “Don’t doubt that a bit.”
Well, that didn’t get the reaction I wanted. “Look, Connor. Whatever I need to do, wherever we need to go, can we please get to it?”
“We are.”
“What?” I snap. Connor looks at me, one brow lifted in expectation. It’s then that it all clicks together.
“It’s here, isn’t it? My laptop is here!” I say.
“Shh,” he shushes me. “And no. But the new owner is.”
Okay, maybe I didn’t ‘say’ that so much as shout it. At least one table looks over at us, a woman giving me a strange look before going back to her conversation with her tablemate. Quieter, I say, “Where?”
“Calm down first,” he orders. I do my best, curling in and pressing my hands into my lap, but I’m buzzing with energy and hope, bouncing in the seat. “That’ll do, I guess,” he says sarcastically. “My contact gave it to his kid who’s at work.”
Connor gestures to the restaurant around us, and it makes sense now. I could so kiss him, and not just in a ‘let’s get it on’ sort of way. At the least, I wish he were still holding my hand, but when he lays his down on the table, one over the other, I clasp mine in my lap.
Looking around, everyone in the room suddenly becomes the potential possessor of my laptop. Connor said ‘at work’, so it’s probably one of the staff. But all I see is a couple of waitstaff and one bored looking girl standing behind the cash register, examining her nails.
“What’s his name?” I demand, ready to pat down search everyone in the restaurant if I have to. I said I’d do anything, and I well and truly meant it. Though maybe paying a ransom would be preferable to kidnapping or assault?
Hmm, I wonder if that would be a good plot arc for my story? Maybe my hero has to rescue the heroine after she’s kidnapped? It is called Trouble in Great Falls, so that would track.
Now that I’m so close to getting it back, my writer’s block seems to have totally crumbled, and all I can think of are story possibilities. Maybe even ideas for a third book? I open my mouth to say something to Connor but stop when a waitress walks up and asks, “Welcome, what can I get you to drink?”