Free The Secret Brokers by Alexandrea Weis Page B

store let their eyes linger on Dallas as they walked buy. “And what about your father? What does he do?” she went on.
    “He used to build yachts before he died,” Dallas told her as he selected two brown potatoes from a pile. “My family has a yacht building business in Connecticut.” He placed the potatoes in a plastic bag, tied off the bag, and placed the potatoes in their grocery cart.
    “And why didn’t you go into the family business?”
    Dallas looked over at her and grinned. “Who’s to say I didn’t?” He began going through bunches of mustard greens. “Perhaps I’m really a boat builder, moonlighting as a bodyguard.”
    Gwen laughed as she leaned over their cart. “You, a boat builder?” She watched as he placed the mustard greens in a plastic bag. “No one spending any time with you would ever figure you for a boat builder. That’s not you. I think that kind of life would drive you batty.”
    Dallas placed the mustard greens in their cart. “What makes you say that?
    “Look at you,” she proclaimed as she waved her hand down his figure. “Everything about you, from the way you look to the way you move, screams intrigue and adventure. Some men are made for a quiet life of running a business and providing for a family. But I think you like living on the edge. I could never see you settling for that kind of boring existence.”
    “The way I look? The way I move? I don’t look or move any different from any other person in this store. You don’t even know me. How can you think that I would want such a life?”
    “I can spot the signs a mile away when someone is pretending to be something they aren’t. The sooner you embrace what you are, the happier you will be.”
    Dallas turned away and began picking through a box of mushrooms.
    Gwen came alongside of him and examined his scowling countenance. “Did I say something wrong?”
    Dallas picked at the mushrooms. “No,” he firmly replied.
    She watched as he methodically selected the best of the mushrooms from the pile and placed them one by one in the plastic bag.
    “So who did you try to change for? Who did you try to be that simple man living that uncomplicated life for? For a man that doesn’t say much, you sure do speak volumes with your body. You don’t have to express pain for it to be evident, Dallas.”
    He shook his head, appearing frustrated. “And what makes you think I’m in pain?”
    “The long moments of silence as you look at nothing. The restlessness in your eyes, and the way you sigh, like every breath is a weight you must bear.” She paused. “I also found the half empty bottle of vodka under the sink this morning. I’m a nurse, Dallas. I’ve watched a lot of people carry around their personal demons just like you are doing now. I may not be able to tell a broken heart from a happy one with my stethoscope, but when I look into someone’s eyes I can see the difference.”
    “My demons are my business, Gwen,” he snapped as he tied off the bag of mushrooms in his hand. “Analyzing me isn’t going to keep you from getting killed.”
    “I’m not trying to analyze you, Dallas,” She stepped back over to their grocery cart. “I’m simply saying I’m here if you need to talk.”
    “You’re an assignment, Gwen,” he coolly reminded her. “And in two weeks when this is over, you will forget all about me.” Dallas placed the bag of mushrooms in the cart and pushed it further down the aisle.
    “I never forget a fine looking ass,” Gwen commented behind him.
    Dallas turned back to her. “For a woman who lives a solitary life without a man, you sure do seem to be unusually flirty.”
    “Flirty? Is it flirty to notice the attributes on a man? I think I am just being…female.”
    Dallas examined her with his disconcerting eyes. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    Gwen eyed him suspiciously and then slowly nodded.
    “When exactly was the last time you were with a man?”
    At first, Gwen was astonished