Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

Not knowing what to say, I concentrate on eating the last of the soup, knowing I should really say something before things become awkward. Although, I’m not sure things can ever be awkward with Nate. He takes everything in his stride; nothing seems to rattle him. At least not that I’ve seen over the last six years anyway.

“How’s erm… how’s work?” Did I really ask him that?

His lip lifts at the corner as if he knows what I’m doing. “Work is work. What I really want to know about is you.”

“Me?” Finally handing him the bowl, I lean back on my palms. “What about me?”

He shrugs, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth and chewing it contemplatively. “Everything. Where are you from, where are you going, what are your hopes and dreams? Tell me anything.”

“Wow.” I feel my throat close up at all of his questions. Do I really want to open up to him so soon? What if he sees me differently when he knows the truth? “Just jumping in there with wanting my life story, huh?”

“Not your whole life story, just most,” he jokes. “How about you start with where you grew up? Was it nice?”

I nod, sitting up and wiping my shaking hands on my thighs. “It was nice. We didn’t live near the sea or by any water, but we had lots of woods surrounding the town.” I smile, thinking about all the exploring I used to do. “There was only me, my mom, and my dad.” I turn my face away from him, fiddling with the lid on a container as I think about my parents who did everything they could for me. “Dad worked a lot of hours and Mom stayed at home when I was little. I always wanted a brother or sister—” I cut myself off, realizing I’m saying too much, but when I look back at him, he gives me an encouraging smile so I continue, “Mom couldn’t have any more kids after me, so yeah... I’m an only child.”

“I wish Maya and I were closer in age sometimes, it would’ve been nice to have had a partner in crime around the house. I had Nata—” His face turns pained for a second before he shakes his head and looks at me. “Maya and I are still close so it’s no big deal.”

I take a silent breath of relief at the conversation turning onto him, so I latch onto it. “It must be hard being a big brother though. How old is Maya now anyway? She has to be a fully-fledged teenager.”

“In all her glory.” He chuckles. “She’s fifteen going on thirty but she’s a good kid. I don’t think we need to worry about her.”

I snort, a chuckle escaping before slapping my hand over my mouth. “Yeah… I… I’m sure you don’t.” I watch several emotions flash over his face: confusion, worry, and finally determination. “She has you to look out for her anyway, so she’ll be good either way,” I say, trying to backpedal. What I really want to say is she’s a teenager, and it doesn’t matter how good a kid she is: she’s still a teenager.

“Yeah…” His eyes flick away. “Want some more food?” He reaches his arm into the basket and pulls out a few more tubs. “There’s plenty.”

I tilt my head to the side, taking in all of his movements and the way his eyes stay focused on anything but me. Could his little sister be the one subject that does rattle him? I hang on to that piece of information as I nod. “Sure, what else has Chef Nate brought?”

“I feel like whatever I pull out now will pale in comparison to my soup,” he says, pulling off the top of the tub he picks up first and offering it to me.

“It was the best soup I’ve ever tasted.” I take the tub, plucking out one of the wraps. “What’s in this?”

“They’re mini chicken fajitas. It’s chicken, onion, pepper, sour cream, guacamole and salsa with a sprinkling of cheddar cheese.”

“Jeez, Nate. I think I just had a foodgasm and I haven’t even put it in my mouth yet.”

He waits a beat, and when his lip quirks, I know he’s about to— “That’s what she said.”

I roll my eyes, not waiting a second longer to take a bite.

Oh my God, how can something wrapped in a tiny package taste so amazing? The chicken is succulent, the onion and pepper having the perfect amount of crunch.

“Yep,” I moan. “I think I’ll keep you.”

The hand lifting his own fajita to his mouth halts in its tracks and a mocking expression flits over his face. “Oh, will you now?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod, taking another bite and swallowing. “I may end up weighing six hundred pounds, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Not a chance, if you’re with me you’ll be out hiking and exploring. There’s no way you could gain weight. How do you think I can eat things like this?”

I consider it for a moment, chewing slowly. “Hmmm… hiking and exploring, huh?” I mull it over some more. “I’ll make that deal under one condition.”

He finishes his fajita and leans toward me. “Who said you’re allowed to make demands?”

“If you want the sweet treats then you’ll listen and amend the contract.” I give him my sternest look before putting the last bite of fajita in my mouth, already grieving the loss of the tasty food.

“Oh, I want the sweet treats.” His gaze drops to my legs and he makes a show of slowly checking me out, finishing with his brows raised and a cocky expression on his face as he folds his arms over his chest. “Alright, I’m listening.”

My heart starts beating faster at his full attention. Is that the expression and tone he uses in the courtroom? I wonder if anyone can sit in the gallery? Because if they can then I think it would be my new obsession.