No calls or texts from Declan, which was a good thing. It meant he’d given up after the five calls and several texts he’d sent earlier that morning. He’d probably accepted that he was better off not letting me drag him down.
Ty’s words had stung. There was no denying that. But they also rang true. I was scared. Romeo, through his unsolicited messages, had repeatedly informed me that Declan wasn’t right for me. I was terrified that something would happen to Declan, that Romeo would do something to hurt him. And it would be my fault for bringing my dangerous career—and my stalkerish confidential source—into Declan’s life. I just couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to another man I loved.
I needed time to think things through. I had to decide what was best for Declan… and for me. This separation would be good for us.
I set the phone aside and decided that Ty didn’t deserve my bad mood just before going off on a fun vacation with his partner. I tied my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, washed my face, then put on a little blush and mascara. “There,” I said. “A little more human.”
I headed back downstairs. James and Ty were sitting on the sofa, sorting through their itineraries. James looked up, and Ty stood when he saw me.
I immediately walked into Ty’s arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.”
“No, I’m sorry. You’re obviously going through something; you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“We’re here for you,” James said, and threw his arms around us both.
When they both backed up a step, Ty said, “James and I want for you whatever will make you happy.”
“I know you do,” I said, and I forced a smile. “And right now, whatever amazing food that’s making your house smell like a Tuscan villa is what will make me happy.”
“By all means, then,” Ty said. “Let’s eat!”
Chapter 3
Brooke
I woke the next morning after the sun was already up. Heat radiated off of Thurston and Lovey, who were lying in a heap beside me, reminding me exactly where I was. Lovey’s head was on the spare pillow, just like a person, and Thurston had laid his head on Lovey’s belly.
I assumed James and Ty had made their flight and were well on their way to a fun-filled vacation in Margaritaville—also known as Key West, Florida.
“You guys hungry?”
Thurston lifted his head and stared at me; Lovey’s tail began a quick wiggle.
“Kibble?” I asked, and it must have been the magic word. Both dogs scrambled out of the bed and ran toward the door.
I pulled an Oxford University sweatshirt over my head. I had stolen it from Declan one chilly evening when we sat by his pool and watched the sun set. It was soft and smelled of him, so I adopted it as my own after that.
As I walked down the steps, I finger-combed my hair and tied it into a ponytail. Thurston and Lovey waited patiently by their bowls in the kitchen. I poured their food, then headed straight for the coffee maker. Luckily, I’d stayed with Ty and James enough in the past to know my way around their house.
With my mug filled with coffee, creamer, and sugar, I turned on my phone. Still no calls or texts from Declan.
“What did you expect, Fairfax?” I asked myself.
It was for the best. Declan had proposed a question he should have known I wasn’t ready to answer. And in response, I’d made the conscious decision to leave Kentucky without telling him I was housesitting for two weeks. Apparently he’d gotten the hint that I needed space and time to think.
I told myself it was good that he hadn’t reached out. It meant he was accepting the reality of our relationship. It had been fun, but we weren’t ready for an intense commitment.
I massaged my forehead. The truth was, I missed Declan, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. But our situation was beyond a simple “yes” or “no,” and he knew it.
Thurston whined by the front door, and Lovey stood beside him, her entire body wagging. “I guess you two want to go for a walk?”
Thurston stood, and he and Lovey began a dance of excitement, knocking into each other.
“Okay, okay. Let me go change and grab my shoes.”
Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of yoga pants, Declan’s sweatshirt, and a pair of running shoes, I set out with both dogs for a brisk stroll through Georgetown, the dogs setting a deliberative pace. The sun was already high enough in the sky, and it seeped through the brightly colored autumn leaves of the trees that lined the residential streets.
We weren’t far into the walk when my phone buzzed—an email from one of my analysts in the Kentucky Office of Homeland Security. My team of analysts were constantly monitoring various issues that might affect the citizens of the United States, especially if they might impact the safety of the residents of Kentucky.
But I decided to read the email later. If it had been an emergency, my analysts knew to text or call. I would settle into Ty’s home office when I got back to the house and deal with it then.
As I held both leashes with my right hand and stuck my phone in my back pocket with the left, Thurston suddenly tugged hard, breaking free of my grasp. He ran toward a man lifting a large box on his front porch.
“Thurston!” I yelled. “I’m so sorry.” I jogged to catch up. Lovey breathed hard beside me. Who knew the chubby little bulldog could run that fast?
The man balanced the box on the porch railing while reaching a hand to Thurston’s head. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt starched beyond perfection. “It’s fine,” he said. There was no humor in his voice, however. When he lifted his deep-set eyes, I literally shivered from the coldness in them.
After shifting Lovey to my left hand, I opened and closed my right hand into a fist. “Damn hand. I sprained my arm a while back, and I just don’t have the grip I used to.” I reached down and took hold of Thurston’s leash with my left hand, then held out my right. “I’m Brooke. I’m housesitting just down the street from you.”
He reached out to shake my hand. As he did, I caught sight of the Glock on his hip. “Bradley,” he said.
I smiled up at him, purposely hiding my reaction to the serious firearm. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it, Bradley. Sorry about the dog. I’ll try to keep a better grip in the future.”
Before I turned, I took a quick glance at the box he balanced against the porch railing. Only then did I notice the skewed square on the side—white, with the top and bottom corners colored black.
I tugged on both leashes. “Let’s go, kids.”
He lifted a hand and waved. “See you around, Brooke.”
I hurried away. I was sure Bradley wasn’t about to shoot me on the street in front of his house, but there was something curious about a man packing a gun while standing on his front porch and lifting a sizable box of ammunition—as indicated by the black-and-white diamond marking on the box. Then again, we were in the heart of our nation’s federal government, the home base for tens of thousands of United States law enforcement, national security, and intelligence employees. You probably couldn’t swing a dead cat in a neighborhood like this without hitting someone who worked for FBI, CIA, NSA, DHS, DOD, or one of the other three-letter federal government entities.
My phone rang as I approached Ty and James’s house, but I didn’t dare switch hands with the leashes. I led Thurston and Lovey through the gate, secured it, and then stopped short.
A man was standing on Ty and James’s front porch.
“Declan.”
Chapter 4
Bradley Archer
Brooke was sure a looker. I quickly set the box inside, then casually made my way down my short sidewalk to the street, and after glancing around to make sure no one was watching me, I ducked between vehicles and behind a minivan. When I peered around the vehicle, I admired the view of the leggy brunette from behind. I was not disappointed to find her backside was just as enticing as her front.
I smiled just thinking of the thi
ngs I could do to a woman like that.
Sighing, I forced the thought from my head. I had other things to do; lessons to plan. I would not have my way with this, or any, piece of ass today.
Just before turning back toward my house, something about Brooke’s actions made me pause.
She stopped in front of the townhouse of those two gay guys who, unlike the stupid couple I’d spoken with last night, hadn’t even bothered to introduce themselves to me since I moved in. One of them—Tyler, I thought his name was—always seemed to be analyzing me, so I had stayed away.
Brooke stopped and stared at the front door. When she didn’t move, my curiosity was piqued. I moved around the van to get a better look. A man was standing at the door, waiting for her.
Intrigued, I studied the two of them—their body language. Brooke was not frightened by him. Not by a long shot. And he definitely wanted her. That was obvious. Then again, who wouldn’t? A girl like that? She was hot enough to get the two queers that owned the townhouse to switch back to batting for the home team. Brooke probably had a long list of men who wanted her, and deservedly so. The question was: Did this particular man deserve a woman like Brooke?
“You tracked me?” I heard her ask.
What the fuck? Was this man stalking her? I strained my ears to hear more. But it was no use, because seconds later, she let him enter the house with her.
What was I doing? I didn’t have time for this distraction. Even if he was stalking her, why should I care? Lucky piece of shit. Someone deserved to be hitting that.
Chapter 5
Brooke
“Hello, Brooke.”
Just hearing him speak my name in that smooth Irish accent made my stomach do an annoying little flip-flop.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Marti gave me a little clue.” He shrugged. “Then I did some checking.”
“You tracked me?” I tightened my grip on the dogs’ leashes. With a sigh, I led them up the steps and past Declan. “You should have called. I would have told—”
“I did. Five times yesterday. And once this morning.” His tone was calm, annoyingly so.
After unlocking the front door and ushering the dogs in, I faced Declan. He was standing closer than I’d expected, and he didn’t budge when I stepped forward. His blue eyes peered down at mine, and his perfect lips remained fixed in a straight line.
I pulled my phone out and saw his missed call. “You called me two minutes ago.”
“I did call though. Right before I knocked,” he said with a lift of his shoulders. “I didn’t want to be rude and show up unannounced.” He smiled then for the first time. “Are you going to let me in?” He looked out toward the road where a pair of women jogged past. “Or do you want to talk out here?”
One, two, three beats passed before I turned and entered the house, leaving the door open for him to follow. I wasn’t angry. How could I be? I was the one who’d left without telling him.
I hung the leashes on the decorative brass hook in the coat closet just inside the front door.
Declan walked further into the living room. “Nice place.” He slid one hand into his pants pocket. It was then that I noticed he was wearing a suit.
“Yes, it is. Why are you here, Declan?”
He angled his head at my abrupt tone.
My head fell forward, and I shook it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. You surprised me, that’s all. I—” I stopped myself from over-explaining.
He stepped toward me. When I held up a hand to stop his forward motion, he pushed it aside and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
I swallowed hard; my arms hung loosely at my sides. He lifted a hand and pressed it gently to the back of my neck just below my ponytail.
After letting him hold me for several seconds, I wrapped my own arms around him and said, “I’m sorry I left without telling you, but—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “I don’t even want to know why you didn’t tell me.”
I pulled back. “You don’t?”
“It doesn’t matter why. The fact that you left tells us both that you still don’t trust me—that you don’t trust us.” When I didn’t say anything to that, he added, “I scheduled a meeting in DC for later this morning.”
“A meeting,” I deadpanned. “Scheduled before or after you found out I had traveled to Georgetown to housesit for Ty?”
“After. I’d been putting off a meeting with a lobbyist here until I had a reason to be here. When I heard you’d left Kentucky for Georgetown, I took the opportunity to schedule it.”
“Kill two birds with one stone?” I smiled weakly.
“Something like that.” He walked toward the kitchen. “How about we have some coffee?”
I was still stuck on the “trust” comment. Was he right? Was I struggling to trust him? I didn’t think that was it. And I thought our relationship had been progressing just fine until he dropped that bombshell on me. He wanted me to commit to him—to spend the rest of my life with him—but I couldn’t. For me, committing to a life-long relationship meant opening up about everything affecting my life—as long as there wasn’t a security clearance issue. And I didn’t think either of us was ready for that.
“Would you like some?” he asked, wiggling the coffee pot in the air.
I wanted to be angry with him—with the way he entered a room and assumed control, with the way he’d hunted me down when I clearly needed space. But I had no right to be angry. I nodded. “Sure.”
“Nice sweatshirt, by the way.”
I looked down at his sweatshirt. My face flushed with embarrassment. A woman who’d left a man because she didn’t want to be with him didn’t turn around and wear his sweatshirt.
“I…” I started to speak, but realized I didn’t know what to say. So I closed my mouth and slid onto a barstool as Declan fixed me a mug of coffee, exactly how he knew I liked it: cream and two heaping teaspoons of raw sugar.
He poured his own coffee—black, no cream or sugar—and sat at the counter beside me, turning his barstool so that his body was facing mine.
“I told you I would never lie to you,” he said. “I was surprised that you left without telling me you were leaving town for two weeks. I thought things were going well between us.”
I swallowed. “They were.” I circled both hands around the warm mug.
Thurston and Lovey curled up on a dog bed in the corner of the room, one on top of the other, both still panting from the morning walk. As Lovey settled into a position practically on top of Thurston, she let out a deep, breathy sigh. I knew exactly how she felt.
I took a sip of coffee as I gathered my wits. I turned on the barstool to face Declan, letting my right leg slide between both of his. “I’m not going to tell you I left because I was scared, or because we were moving too fast. I consciously decided to get involved with you. I own that.”
He dropped his hand to my leg. His fingers drew figure eights on my thigh, threatening to shatter my concentration. “Getting involved with me was a good decision.”
I lifted my shoulder. “Maybe.”
“You’re a fascinating enigma, Brooke Fairfax. Frustrating, at times, but fascinating nonetheless. And I am perfectly happy to break through your tough exterior one clue at a time.”
“Why do I feel like I shouldn’t encourage you?” I asked. “You might not like what you discover after breaking through too many layers.”
“I consciously decided to pursue you the moment I saw you at the governor’s mansion. I own that. You and I are not finished. Even if you did decide to run away briefly, we have more to discover about each other.”
I slid my hand beneath his, letting our fingers get tangled. With his free hand, he crooked a finger under my chin and lifted my head. He leaned forward, and after tilting his head one way, then the other, he pressed his lips to mine. He sucked lightly on my lower lip, sending a lightning bolt of electricity straight to my stomach, a
nd beyond.
Sliding forward on the barstool, I wrapped my free arm around his neck. This was never the problem.
Before I knew it, he had stood and lifted me up so that my legs were wrapped around his hips. His hands slipped easily under my sweatshirt, the coolness of his fingers touching my bare skin and making me squirm. I buried my face in his neck and breathed in his rich, rugged scent.
“I want you right now,” he whispered in my ear as he held me tighter. “Direct me to a bed, or I’ll be forced to improvise.”
I kissed him again, then smiled against his lips. “This day has definitely taken an unexpected turn.”
“Tell me where, Brooke,” he demanded. “Or we can continue to talk about why you left Midland without telling me.”
I squeezed my legs tighter. “That way.” I pointed toward the living room and the steps leading to the upper level. “Upstairs. Now.”
“Thought you might see it my way.” But by the tone of his voice, I knew the subject of me running wouldn’t be tabled forever.
Declan was propped up against a mountain of pillows. I was draped across him, my right leg intertwined with both of his. My fingers drew lazy lines up and down his arm while he massaged my back.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I had a meeting,” he said.
I lifted my head and studied him. “I didn’t think you were. When do you need to leave?”
“Thirty minutes ago.”
I smiled, then returned my head to his chest. “You should call someone. You’re going to be late.”
“Hmmm.”
He shifted, forced me to my back, then covered my body with his. He pushed a rogue strand of hair from my face. “You are truly an exquisite creature, Brooke Fairfax.”
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