He framed it nicer than that piece of crud Rod, but Scott’s version ended up at the same conclusion—she spent a lot of horizontal time with Ben. “So, you think it’s my turn to step in and sleep with the judge.”
Scott waved his hands. “Wait. I didn’t mean—”
“That’s not what’s happening here.” Okay, it was exactly what was happening, but the scenario got all screwed up in the telling. Made her look easy and opportunistic. When it came to her relationship with Ben, she’d admit to one of those. She wasn’t there as some rebound for Ben. Hell, he wasn’t even rebounding.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Scott said.
“You didn’t.” Confused the hell out of her, but that was about it.
“Please don’t tell Judge Walker that I’m the one who told you.”
Oh, she intended to discuss this with Ben. Absolutely. He deserved to know the misunderstanding swirling around about him. Maybe he could explain why everyone wanted to give him a big high five for nailing the office staff while she got tagged with the whore label. The double standard ticked her off.
Yeah, they’d talk about it, but she’d keep the kid’s name out of it. “It’s okay. Really.”
“Right.” Scott nodded but still looked uncomfortable. “Have you seen Judge Blanton?”
“She’s being interviewed by the administrative judge about the complaint filed against her.” Callie knew that was the only reason Mark would accept for not being plastered to Emma’s side.
“I’ll leave you alone then.” Scott got up. “And ignore whatever Rod says.”
She planned to do the exact opposite. A kid with that much anger was just asking to be investigated.
Callie enjoyed her ten seconds of privacy. She wanted more, but the office atmosphere seemed to be sending restless waves her way.
“You’re popular today.” Elaine, Ben’s true assistant, stuck her head in the door. Fifty, smart, capable, and a hard worker.
Callie understood why Ben depended on the other woman so much. Elaine answered phones and kept the true crazies away from Ben. Lawyers and case parties yelled at her all day long on the phone, and Elaine stayed calm. She also had the unenviable job of handling the tons of paperwork that shuffled through the office every hour.
And Elaine managed to listen to Rod without punching him. Callie thought that was pretty damn impressive.
“Apparently Rod thinks I’m a slut,” Callie said, expecting a shocked reaction. She got a knowing nod instead.
“Yeah, I could hear him. I just hope the judge didn’t.”
Callie kind of hoped he did. Someone needed to tear Rod apart, and Mark would be pissed off if she tried. There’s nothing covert about stuffing a snotty law clerk’s head in a toilet. “For reasons I can’t understand, Ben actually likes Rod.”
Elaine smiled. “If you say so.”
“Since you probably didn’t come in here to talk about a bunch of twenty-something boys, what can I help you with?”
Elaine’s smile vanished as fast as it came. “This is for you.”
Callie eyed the plain envelope in the older woman’s hand. Other than her name scrawled across the front, it was blank. “Thanks.”
Then the silence stretched. Callie sat there staring. Elaine stood staring back.
Callie finally blinked. “So, if there’s nothing else—”
“One of my jobs here is to open the mail.” Elaine pursed her lips together. “All of it.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Unless it says ‘private’ on it, it’s my responsibility.”
Callie knew Elaine was trying to tell her something. Not sure what, but something. “Is this another threat?”
“Not exactly.”
Callie dragged her finger along the jagged edge where Elaine had ripped the envelope open.
She barely got the papers out of the package when she saw the subject line.
Busted. “I can explain.”
Elaine’s mood didn’t change. “You don’t have to. I can read. It’s obvious you’re investigating the judge.”
Callie felt a splash of guilt for her snooping. She had justified her covert actions saying it was all part of the job. Deep down she knew that was total bullshit. Ben intrigued her. They were sleeping together, for God’s sake. That had to give her some rights. And, yes, she experienced a kick of something everytime she saw him. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable and unsure about where she stood in her life. She liked it even less that she wanted to hold some sort of position with him. In his life.
Emotions were a bitch.
“It’s not what you think,” Callie said.
“I think it’s your job to watch over him.” Elaine tapped her fingers together. “The assistant title is clearly a cover. I’m assuming you work with the man who was watching over Judge Blanton and got injured.”
Callie tried to force her eyes back to normal size level. “I can’t really—”
“I know all about the judge’s brother Mark. That one might have an important secret job, but I’ve been with the judge from the beginning, which means seeing Mark often. What I’ve figured out is he’s an agent of some type.”
Callie just knew Mark would blame her for this. “That’s not my business.”
“I also think that whatever it is you’re doing with that quiet investigation of yours has nothing to do with Judge Walker’s safety. This is personal for you.” Elaine didn’t raise her voice. Still, her comments came out like a lecture from a disappointed mother.
Callie had a bigger problem. With the stalker still out there, no one should know about her true position. Elaine might not look like an assassin, but who could tell? Besides that, Callie knew blowing her cover would be the last straw with Mark.
“Do you plan to talk with Ben about the paperwork?” Callie asked.
“I think you should do that, don’t you?”
“Of course.” In time but not now.
“I trust you’ll do the right thing and not sneak around.”
Callie hated it when people said stuff like that. It was a ticket to disappointment and guilt. Almost made her wish she hadn’t asked her hacker friend to track down Ben’s past and dig around, including into the boring stuff that looked too good to be real.
Elaine’s gaze never wavered. “I’ve worked with the judge a long time. He deserves honesty.”
Callie vowed to give that to him…eventually.
Chapter Thirteen
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time.” Callie made the comment as she walked into lane five of the shooting range.
“Not every woman would view a few hours working with a gun as the perfect date.” Standing behind her, Ben took it all in.
The snug jeans and gentle swing of her hips as she moved around the three-by-five space. A hard shiny gun in direct contrast with her soft curves. The woman was so damn hot. Even the earphones hanging around her neck didn’t turn him off.
“When you challenged me to a shoot-out, how could I say no?” She opened the box of ammo.
Excitement all but poured out of her. No question the woman knew how to handle a gun. Seemed to enjoy the smooth feel of the steel against her skin, because she kept caressing it. Kind of reminded him how she touched him, firm and knowing. She was a woman who had learned what she liked and went after it every chance she got.
Totally fucking sexy.
“Technically, you challenged me,” he said.
She chuckled. “Because I said you were getting soft?”
That happened two hours ago after they finished the afternoon docket and she informed him that his job was “boring as shit.” She then went on to tell him why, including plenty of profanity and complaints about lawyers in her explanation.
“Yeah, thanks again for that.”
“Oh, please. Your ego is fine. Besides, it wasn’t a comment on your fitness. It was a statement on how you spend your life in this unreal state where people agree with everything you say and want to make
you happy.” She checked the gun before lowering it to the shelf.
“You including yourself in that crowd?”
“Absolutely not.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
She snorted. “You’d get bored with a woman who fell at your feet and treated you like you shit gold.”
“That’s an interesting visual image.”
“You can be snide all you want. You know I’m right.”
He did. Emma had said the same thing. Despite his burning need for privacy, the women in his life seemed to know a great deal about his likes and dislikes. That sensation pissed him off for some reason.
When her gaze wandered down his torso, he thought about skipping the shooting and dragging her down to the floor instead.
“Do you disapprove of my choice of clothes?” he asked.
She pointed at his face and wiggled her finger around. “See, you’re doing it again.”
“Talking?”
“No.”
“Flirting?”
“Getting all hoity.”
He’d never been accused of that until Callie came along. His background was as far from the rich kid ideal as possible. “What, no toity?”
“I’ve decided it’s a defense mechanism.”
Great, a psychological exam. Just what he wanted from her. “How about we start shooting now?”
The bullets jingled when she put her fingers in the small box and moved them around. “It’s not true, you know?”
As usual, he had no damn idea what she was talking about. “Excuse me?”
“You know, you can just say ‘what’ without the other stuff. You don’t need to pretend you’re the king or something.”
Only Callie could get away with talking to him like that. “I didn’t—”
“My point is that you’re not soft,” she said
The quick change in conversation direction took him a second to adjust. “Okay.”
“You look good.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Very good, actually. Spectacular even. It’s one of the few things the sniping women in the courthouse get right.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Her eyes did that dipping thing again, leaving his face and going on an extended tour to his stomach, then lower. “You’re actually in great shape.”
“Okay, that’s enough.”
“And your stamina?” She smacked her lips together in a fake kiss. “It’s like you’re twenty.”
His pants started to feel tight. “We can stop this conversation anytime now.”
“Problem?”
“Only with my concentration.”
“You worrying about misfiring?”
“I think we’re off track here.”
She treated his growing erection to an intense stare before getting back to work at the counter. Her fingers worked over the metal. “I’m just saying that if a man doesn’t practice handling his weapon he gets rusty. You got to keep it primed and ready to go.”
“Are we still talking about guns?”
She threw him a sexy smile over her shoulder. “What else would I be talking about?”
“Right.”
She concentrated on loading the weapon and steadied her stance by separating her legs.
“You ever miss it?”
Ben forced his gaze away from her ass. “Excuse…huh?”
“A life that doesn’t include sitting behind a desk. The military. The travel. You ever wish you were still there?”
He leaned against the wall to her right side so he could see her reactions play across her face as he spoke. “Since I served during a war, no.”
“I’m sorry.”
He barely thought about those years now. “It was a long time ago.”
“Then what about the other parts? What happened in all of those years in between? I’m thinking nothing as exciting as what went before.”
“Ah, I see. You’re saying my current life is boring.”
“Remember that I’ve sat in on the motions docket.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s some terrible stuff right there. Boring doesn’t even come close to describing the brain-numbing nature of those hours.”
“Yeah, I have to admit that’s not a highlight of the job.”
“Hardly.”
A round of bangs echoed in the background. Ben stuck his head out of the lane and saw the light on six stalls away. That meant another shooter had come in. Between the hum of the lights and the shots, Ben figured this was as private as this building could get.
Callie didn’t let something like an audience stop her hunt for information. She kept on making her list. “The adrenaline rush? The strategy sessions? The brotherhood bond of your unit?”
Without knowing it, she had touched on some of the reasons he joined. That, and he didn’t have any other options. The army provided him with structure and a home when he desperately needed both. “You know a lot about the military?”
“No.” She looked him in the eye this time. Her hand didn’t move from the weapon, but he had her attention now. “I’m fascinated by the idea of people putting their lives on the line in that way. The honor and integrity angles are pretty irresistible.”
“This sounds like some type of men-in-uniform fantasy.”
“You gotta admit that level of courage is pretty damn sexy.”
Getting women was about the only reason not on his “pro” listed for signing up for the army all of those years ago. “And here I thought the ladies liked the judge’s robe.”
“That’s only because they’re all trying to figure out what you have on under there. Me, on the other hand, I’m trying to figure out what’s under here.” She laid her palm over his heart.
The touch sparked something warm inside him. He tended to balk at oversharing and ploys to get him to talk about his past. Women always wanted to know what happened before, but he was a live-in-the-now kind of guy. But with Callie, the questions came with such a genuine zeal, without any agenda, that his inner wall holding her out crumbled slightly.
He slid his palm over hers. “You worried I’m empty under all the judge stuff?”
“No.”
Not the most convincing response he’d ever heard. “Then?”
She dropped her arm, breaking the contact, and stepped back. “You’ve raced through several careers and landed a gig as the top banana. You’re protective of Emma and wary of Mark. You’re a monster in the sack and a star in the courtroom.”
“That’s quite a rundown.”
She tapped her forehead. “A smart woman finds out all she can before hitting the sheets with a man.”
A red flag went up in his mind. That comment sounded more real and less flip than he expected. “I suspected it before, but now I know. You checked on my past.”
She shrugged. “I read the file Mark gave me.”
There was more. The churning in Ben’s gut told him that much. “And?”
Her head fell to the side. “And poked around a bit.”
Now that scared the hell out of him. “After all that investigating, what do you think now?”
“I’m not sure.”
He knew the thoughtful look on her face was a bad sign. “Tell me what that means.”
“I want to know if there’s more to you.”
“Like what?”
“You tell me.”
Ben had no idea what she was searching for. “Is this a test of some sort?”
“Yeah, I think it is.” She finally dropped the gun and fully turned to face him. “Let’s try it this way. We’ll play a game of twenty questions.”
“Isn’t that what we were just doing?”
“An actual game this time. One with rules.”
“Most people stick to shooting targets here.”
“Not us.” She ticked off the instructions to her makeshift game on her fingers. “If you want to answer, you answer. Otherwise, you shoot. But without a big number shot—I’m talking a plug to the head or the heart—you hav
e to answer anyway. You only get one chance to evade the uncomfortable question and nothing is off limits.”
“You do know I was a sharpshooter in the army, right?”
“And I was top in my class at Quantico.” She petted the gun again. “You in?”
“I’m going to regret this.”
She motioned for him to step up to the bar. “You can even go first.”
He sensed a trap. The scenario she outlined sounded good. They’d both have an equal shot at finding out what they wanted to know, but he could see her fixing the game. Her lax stance suggested she didn’t care much about what happened in the next few minutes.
The look was total bullshit. He’d bet she was ready to pop. Hell, he could see it in the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Calm outside. A ball of nerves inside. But what was life without risks?
“So, how does smart-mouthed Callie Robbins end up in the stiff FBI, earning high marks in gunplay?” He could have reached out to her or slipped his foot an inch or two to the left and touched her. He stood still instead.
She leaned back against the wall across from him. The move put them less than two feet apart. The tight area made the personal subject matter even more intimate. “I grew up in a small town. The type where girls got married at eighteen and pregnant right around then, usually before. College wasn’t a priority. Excitement amounted to smoking behind the gas station and sex in the back of the movie theater. I went away to school, escaped really, worked my butt off, and joined the FBI. All of that because I wanted a real challenge.”
“I never would have taken you for a farm girl.”
“No farm, just small town. Stifling, really.” She smiled. “Now it’s my turn.”
“I’m ready.”
She snorted. “Right.”
“Try me.”
“Okay, smart boy like you with all of those opportunities. Why the military? Not that I think it’s beneath you or anything. You just strike me as the college scholarship type.”
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it escaped his lungs in a rush of relief. Of all the questions she could ask, this one was the safest. “No money and mediocre grades.”
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