by K. A. Tucker
A phone starts ringing. I eye Warner’s pocket, where I know his personal iPhone is tucked away. “Are you going to answer that? She’s called three times.”
“Yeah, to yell at me for missing the wedding. I don’t need that right now,” he mutters through another mouthful of beer. It’s going down fast tonight.
I chew the inside of my cheek, deciding if I should say what I want to. “You should call her. Smooth things over.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I need to know that there’s hope for a normal relationship in this job.”
He laughs, sliding from the arm to fill the couch seat next to me. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s no such thing as normal for us. What we see, what we have to do, the way we learn to think . . . no one but us will understand that. You’re doomed the second you start having feelings for someone.”
“Jeez, Warner! Then why are you even bothering with this poor woman?”
He shrugs, twisting and turning the tag on his beer can for a long moment before dark eyes lift to meet mine. “I guess I’m just biding my time until I find the perfect non-normal partner for me.”
He’s waiting for another agent, or cop, or . . . the way he’s looking at my mouth right now, I’m afraid to think that he’s waiting for me. When did that happen?
Thank God his work phone pings, ending the awkwardness.
“Okay . . . 12 should be entering his condo any minute,” he confirms, reading his screen.
All thoughts of anyone else disappear as I find my way over to my window. “Did he meet with 24?” I ask, peeking past the edge of the blinds.
In time to get a clear shot of that dark-haired bartender stepping into Luke’s bedroom before the blinds shut.
It feels like a punch to my stomach.
“Bill said he’s not alone.”
“Yeah, I see that.” I hear the strain in my own voice. And Luke closed his blinds this time. He’s never bothered to before. He’s hiding her from me. He took me out tonight, kissed my hand goodbye in such a sweet, genuine gesture, and then went to the bar to pick his bartender up.
I’m so stupid.
“Clara?”
I turn back to see Warner watching, a stern expression on his face. “You okay?”
“Of course.” I glance back, taking in the glow of the light within his room.
A mental picture of what’s going on behind it hitting me like a wave of sickness. This is what he does. I knew this. It shouldn’t bother me, and yet it does.
“Clara.” Warner’s voice is right behind mine now, the warning in it.
“What?” I step away from the window, around him, and head back to the couch, downing half my glass of wine. Suddenly, I want my guest gone. I want to be alone.
But I get the sense he’s not going anywhere. “You’re not falling for 12, are you?”
“Jesus, Warner! What do you think I am, an idiot?” I burst out laughing, releasing some of the tension in my body. “I’m not going to fall for my target. What’s wrong with you? He’s a fucking criminal! You think I’m going to just throw my entire life away for some guy?”
“Is that why you’re yelling at me now?”
“I’m not . . .” I temper my tone. I am yelling. “I’m not yelling at you.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened,” he offers, all traces of his usual smile gone.
“What do you mean? What does that mean?”
He sighs, shaking his head to himself, like he’d rather not tell me. “I was handling a human trafficking case two years ago, with a female undercover agent,” he begins. “She was good. Smart. Our target was this young Turkish guy. We were making great headway in the case. Until she fell in love with him.”
“Oh, please, Warner. I—”
He holds his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I’ve seen it happen. Woman sees the good side in the guy, wants to change him, thinks she can . . .”
“So you think I’m an idiot.”
“Special Agent Mason wasn’t an idiot.”
“She fell in love with a guy who traffics humans, Warner.”
“She wasn’t an idiot,” he reiterates, his words slow, his voice loud and hoarse, full of emotion. “Actually, she reminds me a lot of you. Young, like you. Still not completely jaded by the job.” His eyes drift down to my mouth.
The silence in my condo is deafening. Even Stanley’s normally heavy breathing seems to have stalled. I check my tone, sensing an explosion if I don’t tread lightly. “She got fired?”
“I wish.” His faint head shake answers me. “Found her in her cover house with a bullet in her head.”
A shiver slips through my body. I’ve heard of undercovers having death threats shouted at them at trials and I myself have had the shit kicked out of me once while trying to buy heroin, but actually getting killed on the job is rare. “Jesus.”
“Yeah.” Warner bows his head for a moment in silence, and I can see that it’s still heavily under his skin. “Not sure how he found out, but knowing how hard she was falling, I’d bet she told him. So . . . don’t do anything stupid, like fall for your target. I don’t want to bury another agent.” He studies me with big hazel eyes, giving me a brief glimpse of the sadness behind them.
I give his shoulder a friendly rub. “Don’t worry about me, Warner.”
He shrugs. “He’s a good-looking guy. Sounds nice enough. Could trip up anyone.”
“You want me to set you two up, don’t you? Forget me. Maybe my big brother can get in close with him and crack this case.”
“Alright . . .” The tension in the room vanishes instantly as he tosses his empty can into the kitchen sink. “Get some sleep, wise-ass.” He ducks out of my condo, a little more quickly than usual.
Warner’s words of warning linger in the back of my mind long after I crawl into bed, Stanley snoring by my side. My bedroom blinds are drawn open, eyes locked on the condo directly across from me.
My heart rate spikes when Luke strolls out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his waist, the ridges in his stomach hard and defined, even from this distance. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with water from the fridge tap. I guess he worked up a thirst.
My thoughts are laced with bitterness, but that doesn’t stop me from moving. Before I realize it, I’m out of bed and standing a few feet away from the glass, admiring him as he sucks back a glass, and then another. Setting the glass down on the counter, he stares at it for a long moment. And then his attention suddenly shifts out the window.
To me.
Can he see me? No, there’s no way—my room is in complete darkness, my pajamas are black. He doesn’t wave, he doesn’t smile, he does nothing but stare, his hands dangling beside his hips, a look of disquiet on his face.
He’s riveted.
Then his head snaps toward the bedroom, as if someone has called him. I’ll bet she did.
On his way back, he hits the wall panel, casting the space into darkness, closing the remaining blinds. And an unpleasant feeling begins coursing through my body, keeping me company until I finally drift off.
■ ■ ■
Licks wants to know if you’d like to go to the park.
Well, my target’s up early today. He’s normally not up until noon on Sundays. Maybe she made him breakfast. Maybe they did it again before she made him breakfast. Does that kind of girl even know how to fry an egg?
I toss my phone onto the counter and rifle through my thoughts, searching for my rational ones, as I down my orange juice. A night of sleep always clears my head. Helps me think more logically. I’m a logical thinker. No room for emotions in this job.
So, I’ll admit that I’m attracted to my target. He’s a nice guy. He’s good-looking, he’s charming, and I’m playing a role where I
need to attract him. It only makes sense that my human instincts will get a little scrambled. As long as I keep my head, I’ll be fine.
It’s actually a good thing that he brought that whore over. If she’s giving him what I can’t, then maybe he’ll be more apt to play the waiting game with me. All I have to do is act normal and keep charming him. No problem.
A second beep.
Licks wants you to bring Stanley, too.
Not a bad idea. Maybe Stanley will do me a favor and bite Luke again.
I take another minute to chew my thumbnail nervously, and then I punch out a return message.
Stanley will oblige. Meet us at his favorite park bench in an hour and bring your throwing arm.
See you then.
An hour. That barely gives my cover team time to get in place. I’m definitely keeping Warner and the boys busy lately, after weeks of nothing. It’s silly, really, that they have to be there during even the most minor of meetings.
Warner answers the phone with a groan.
“Ready for another glamorous day sitting in your car and making sure I don’t fall in love with my target?”
He swears under his breath.
Chapter 19
■ ■ ■
LUKE
I slow to a stop, my heart rate pounding as hard and fast as my feet just were against the pavement.
And I admire Rain, sitting on the bench with the row of cherry trees blooming behind her. Teasing Stanley, who paws the air in front of her, begging for the ball with those bulging eyes of his. It’s a rare sunny day, the rays making her chestnut hair look almost red. Even though her exterior appearance—her expensive clothes, the perfect makeup—matches that of Priscilla, Rain is beautiful in a more confident and sophisticated way than Priscilla, or any other woman I’ve ever been with.
I realized that last night, with Priscilla splayed out on my bed, waiting for me to climb on top of her. When I first met that woman, she was only telling me what she thought I wanted to hear. Once I got to know her and she opened up, I knew that she would never be someone who would truly care about me beyond our superficial friendship. But I didn’t care, either. We both got what we wanted out of each other without a headache or guilt.
Until now.
Today, I woke up—way too early—with a weight settled on my chest. One that wouldn’t let me fall back asleep. One that I needed to resolve right away.
I don’t do well with guilt.
My moment to admire Rain doesn’t last. The second Stanley spots me, he abandons his owner, tearing down the path, those offset eyes on Licks. I’m ready for him this time, though, grabbing his stout little body before he goes for Licks’s legs.
I laugh as he squirms. “Why so angry, buddy?” He answers with a round of snorts as he playfully nips at my hand. Crouching down, I hold him at nose level with Licks, who just sits there, looking apathetic. “You guys need to learn how to be friends. You’ll be seeing more of each other.” I hope.
The sound of slow, even heels pulls my attention up. Rain is taking her time coming over, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her skintight jeans only accentuate the fact that she has perfectly toned thighs. A cropped black leather jacket hugs her upper body, the gold from her dragonfly necklace jumping out against it. Hell, she’s fucking hot.
And I’m dripping in sweat from my run.
A cool smile touches her lips. One that doesn’t reach her eyes. “He obviously doesn’t like sharing your affections,” she says with an unusual hardness in her voice.
Shit.
I knew it.
She saw Priscilla come in.
I didn’t even think about the possibility until I stepped into my bedroom last night and spotted the faint glow burning beyond Rain’s blinds. I made a move to shut my own blinds right away, but I could have sworn I saw a face peering out from the edge of her living room window. And her bedroom curtains were open later. They’re never open. I know because ever since that night I saw her lying on her bed, I’ve been checking every night.
So, if she saw me bring a woman home last night, just hours after dropping her off, why the hell is she here now? Why did she even answer my text?
She tosses a tennis ball first in the air and then across the path, into a clearing on the other side. Stanley leaps from my arms with surprising agility, taking off for it.
“He has a lot of energy.”
“Too much, most days,” she agrees. “What are you up to today?” Her eyes drop over my shirt, clinging to my body. “Besides showering.”
“I have some things to do.” I need to sort out the Ferrari stuff with Aref later. But not before I sort this out. “You?”
“Same.” She smiles at me but it’s off. Forced.
Stanley, oblivious to the growing tension, bounds back with the ball in his mouth, dropping it in front of me with a bark. I toss it across the way, freeing my hand to reach for hers. After a second of hesitation, she gives it to me, her long, delicate fingers slipping into mine, the contact spiking my already racing heartbeat.
I lead her over to the park bench, leaving Licks stretched out in a patch of grass. I never have to worry about him running away. How do I bring this up? Do I bring this up? In reality, I just met Rain; we’re not exclusive, we’re not even really dating. We’re “hanging out,” as she calls it. But something tells me that how I deal with this now is going to dictate what happens tomorrow.
I don’t know a lot about what’s going on in my life right now, but I know that I want there to be a tomorrow with Rain.
So I decide on blunt honesty. Rust has always schooled me on being straight up and dealing with things head on. Not to dance around issues, because it’s a waste of time and breath and patience.
Locking eyes with her, I say, “You saw me come home last night, didn’t you?”
Surprise flashes across her face before she smothers it. Her mouth opens and closes several times. I can almost see the various answers churning, as she decides whether she should lie or not. “Yes,” she finally says, breaking our gaze to watch Stanley roll in the grass like he’s got a terrible itch on his back.
“I went out to meet my uncle after I dropped you off and had too much to drink. My friend Priscilla gave me a ride home.”
“Is that what you call it? A friend giving you a ride home?” Her voice is low, unreadable, and yet telling me everything I need to know. Yes, seeing me with another woman bothered her.
I sigh. “No, that was a friend driving my car home and then coming up to spend the night with me.”
She winces but then smooths her expression yet again. “Look, we just met. We’re just friends, right? So I get it. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“That’s the thing. I feel like I do because . . . nothing happened.” When she rolls her eyes, I quickly continue. “I’m not lying. Look at me.” I gently grab her chin, directing her gaze to mine, hoping she sees the truth for what it is. “I wasn’t into it.” Sure, watching Priscilla pull her clothes off made me hard and when I stripped down, I was physically ready. And then I thought of Rain—of her smile, of her laugh, of how she’s a breath of fresh air in this world that I’m finding myself in, a world in which, when I’m lying in the quiet dark and taking longer than usual to fall asleep, doesn’t feel quite right. And I thought of how she would feel if she knew what I was doing.
The fact that I cared what Rain might think was jarring. Even my best friend, Jesse, says I’m a selfish bastard.
Suddenly I didn’t want Priscilla anymore.
I told her I was too tired, too drunk. She just shrugged and climbed into the shower to wash a night’s worth of club work off. Another sign that she doesn’t really give a shit about me. I pulled my sweatpants on and grabbed a drink of water from the kitchen. That’s when I saw Rain’s bedroom blinds open. That’s when I knew, without a doubt, who I want
ed to be with last night.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asks quietly, her focus seemingly fixated on the pebble she’s shifting around with the toe of really sexy black boots.
I slide my hand over hers, pulling her eyes back to mine. “Because I want to be honest with you.”
She stares at me through shrewd eyes for the longest time, likely measuring my words. I hold her gaze. Stanley’s incessant barking is what finally breaks the spell, forcing her to turn away long enough to toss the ball extra far. “Are you going to have more friends driving you home?”
I push the strands of hair that always seem to fall across her face back. “Do you want me to?”
After a pause, she shakes her head. “But . . . I can’t give you that right now. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can. I just . . .”
“I get it.” I don’t, really. I need to talk to Jesse about this, about how to handle this. About what not to do, about how to resist the urge to push. Because right now all I want to do is drag her back to my condo and into my shower.
The first genuine smile of the day stretches across her face.
“There it is again,” I tease, cupping her jaw as gently as possible, my thumb running the length of her lips. They’re just so tempting. I can’t help myself; I lean in and kiss her as softly as I can. Not like I did on her balcony.
She hesitates for only a second before responding, her lips tasting so sweet next to the salt that’s coating mine.
Two howls of complaint sound beside us.
“Are you fucking serious?”
Rain’s head falls back with laughter. Licks, previously in a borderline coma, now stands next to Stanley, in front of us. Protesting. “I guess they’ve found common ground.”
“Yeah, well, they’d better get used to this and a lot of it,” I mutter, flashing a sly grin Rain’s way to catch the flush in her cheeks. I wish I could spend the rest of the day with her. I’m considering how to shirk all responsibility and do just that when my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. I know it’s Rust without looking. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’ve gotta get going.”