Hooked on You: An Annapolis Harbor Series Prequel, Lea Coll [love letters to the dead .txt] 📗

suddenly dry lips. It wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t so attractive and my mind hadn’t drifted down to the gutter.

“Why did you move here?”

I hesitated. I wouldn’t tell anyone about Caleb. This would be the first time in my life I wasn’t defined by my brother. “There was a job opening and I’d always wanted to work in the U.S. Attorney’s office. It’s fairly impossible to get a job there unless you know someone or have a connection, which I did.”

He raised his brows and I realized I’d just confirmed I was privileged.

“I wanted to make a difference. I was impressed by how involved the office, and particularly my boss, is with the community. You know, all of that sappy stuff you scorn.” I softened my tone with a teasing smile.

“You’d be surprised what I think. I don’t hate all of that stuff. It’s good.”

“But?”

“But nothing. What your office does is commendable.”

That was interesting. If that’s how he felt, then why was he so against it when we met? Or was it that he was against me? “I get the feeling there’s more you’re not telling me.”

He watched out the window before his eyes dropped back to mine. “I probably made a few unfair assumptions about you when we met.”

I was speechless for a few seconds. Like his apology, this was unexpected. “And you think differently now?”

He shook his head and laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’d like to get to know you though, especially if you’re going to be working with Isaac and me.”

I wanted to ask why he’d been so angry when he found out I worked for the U. S. Attorney’s office. I wanted to know what made him soften toward me, but I didn’t want to break whatever this was.

He’d called me a princess and said my life was easy. I didn’t doubt that my life was a cakewalk compared to his, but we all struggled with something. I wanted to know what he struggled with. Why did he have a chip on his shoulder?

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, nudging my foot with his.

I looked up at him. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about my family. Wishing they could visit and see the city with me.”

“They can’t?” There was genuine curiosity in his tone.

“No. It’s not possible for them to come here.” I didn’t add more. I didn’t want be judged for leaving my brother. It would do nothing for his opinion of me.

He studied me for a minute but let it go. “That’s too bad.”

Then the French Quarter came into sight and I took the excuse to break eye contact and watch out the window.

“I’m glad I’m the first person to show you the city.”

I stood, smiling at him. “Me too.” I realized the move brought me flush with Gabe, and my nipples hardened at the feel of his chest through my lace bra and silky shirt. When the car came to a stop, I jolted into him, and he wrapped an arm around my waist pulling me tighter to his muscled body. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think about anything other than his strong arm around me and his breath ruffling the hair on top of my head.

“Sorry.” I smiled softly at him, but his eyes were dark and intense. As soon as people began exiting the car, he stepped back.

“No problem.” Our eyes met and I knew he was feeling the same thing I did—an acute awareness of each other.

I followed him off the streetcar, trying to settle my heart rate and breathing.

“This is the French Market.”

I saw the green and white striped canopy on the store in front of us which read Café du Monde. “Are we going to Café du Monde first?” I’d been dying to try out the beignet shop since I’d gotten here. I’d tried them elsewhere, but these were supposed to be the best.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Come on,” he said with an eager grin.

I liked this side of Gabe—the one who wanted to show me his hometown. The man without the chip.

“Is it always this busy?” I gestured to the long line.

“Maybe not at night. It’s open twenty-four hours.”

“Wow.”

“Most things in New Orleans are. We should be called the city that never sleeps, not New York.”

I nodded in agreement. When we reached the front of the line he asked for several orders of beignets and two coffees. When I raised my brow in surprise, he said, “They only come in orders of three and they’re only this big.” He showed me the square size with his hands.

He handed me my coffee and grabbed the bag of beignets and his coffee. “Want to sit outside?”

It was a beautiful day and I wanted to see the city, watch the people walk by, and get a feel for it. A friend from back home mentioned how amazing it was to be in a city with so many different cultures. “Definitely.”

We sat at one of the tables outside the store and I watched people go by as I bit into the warm doughy goodness.

He started to speak then hesitated.

“What is it?”

“What do you think of the beignets—this place?” His voice was unsure like he worried it wouldn’t meet my expectations.

“That this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” I smiled and brushed away the powder that had fallen from the beignet onto my navy skirt.

He cocked one sexy brow at me, and I couldn’t help laughing. Something about his relaxed attitude this morning, the amazing coffee, the sugary goodness of the beignets, and the joy of finally seeing the French Quarter lowered my walls.

If Gabe was like this all of the time, he could easily be someone I’d be interested in. A fun fling while I lived here would be perfect. No responsibilities, no guilt. I could enjoy him like I did the city.

Stuffed, I laid a hand on my bloated stomach, and leaned back in my chair. “People watching here is something else.” There were street performers, musicians,