No Place Like Home: The Coming Home Series, Book 1

by Jennifer Kacey

  Kia had insisted they go shopping so Charlie could buy a new dress for her date. She wouldn’t allow her to buy anything loose. The clinging black fabric hugged her curves like a lover and she’d adored it in the store. Especially with the fair amount of cleavage it revealed. But now, with Cole staring at her as he helped her get seated…

  She felt naked. Vulnerable.

  His palm rested on her shoulder for a second before the pads of his fingers brushed her skin as he moved to sit back down in the chair next to her.

  His white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and tailored slacks fit him to perfection. He’d been in the same outfit when she’d stopped in to see him earlier, but he’d had a tie on then. She was a sucker for a man in a suit. His dark hair and pretty blue eyes drew her in like a fat kid on the last Twinkie.

  “You look beautiful. I’m glad you didn’t take my advice on casual. It’s…beautiful.” He shook his head after he stared at her for a few more seconds and then took a drink of what looked like water. They each had a glass in front of them.

  “Kia made me buy it.” She blurted it out and then reached for her wrapped silverware to have something to do with her hands. She unwrapped it, setting the silverware on the table and the napkin across her lap.

  “I’ll have to remember to thank her. I’ve never been that big a fan of the little black dress hoopla, but on you? Big fan.”

  His smile. It melted her. “Thanks,” she managed with a hesitant smile. Attention from a man with his sex appeal threw her off. What she really wanted to do was put her chin on her hand so she could stare at him for the rest of the evening.

  But she wouldn’t.

  Not at all.

  “So, how did the rest of the packet delivering go?”

  She took a drink of water since her mouth had gone dry with him this close. “Good actually. It’s been a while since I was here to help with any of this. Since high school really. It surprised me how many people are still around. How many people never left. Or left and came back. Can’t believe it’s almost been ten years. Seems a lifetime ago.”

  “And you’re sure we met in high school? You’re sure of it?”

  Wanting to giggle and groan at the same time was a new one for her. “Only a few hundred times.”

  “It just doesn’t seem possible. Surely I’d remember you.” He gave her a once over from head to waist. Everything he could see above the table probably.

  Shaking her head seemed like the thing to do. “I was very different in high school. Popularity was the name of a very distant planet when I was a teenager.”

  “Can’t imagine you being that different. Truly. Care to give me your name and I can look you up? High school yearbooks and all should be good for something other than killing spiders.”

  “Nope.”

  He chuckled and picked up his menu. “You do know what I do for a living, right? I could run your plates and figure it out within five minutes. I could show you my ID if that would help.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Ha. If you could see your face right now.” He chuckled and she tried to wipe the panic off her face and probably didn’t do a very good job. “I won’t. I’d much rather figure it out on my own. I love solving puzzles.”

  She took another drink and tried not to freak out. He’d find out eventually who she was but she didn’t want it to be right now. Being that girl again wasn’t something she wanted to deal with. Not now.

  Well.

  Replace now with ever and it would be a true statement.

  Clearing her throat, she picked up the menu and stared at it. “What’s good here?”

  “Everything. I think I’ve tried just about everything on the menu. It’s just good. Homemade and cooked to order. Perfecto.”

  “I think I might just have a salad.”

  “No way. That’s, like, not even legal here. I suggest the…” Tugging the menu down, he scooted his chair a bit closer and pointed to something on the menu. “The lasagna. It’s fantastic. As long as you like meat, because it’s full of it. It’ll come with a salad too if you really want some of the green stuff. Their house vinaigrette is awesome. But seriously, a good Italian meal sure isn’t going to hurt you any. You’re so tiny.”

  Too bad her ability to read fritzed out with the first whiff of his cologne. Woodsy, clean, all male. She leaned a tiny bit closer and inhaled with a purpose.

  “You are making this really hard, you know that?”

  She flipped her eyelids open, not knowing when she had closed them, and moved away from him. “Huh? What? What’s really hard?” Oh my gawd. His dark blue eyes snared her and she tilted her chin down, eyeing his lips.

  “Well, I am for one. Since you walked into the bureau this afternoon I can’t seem to get it under control. And you’re making it hard for me to be a gentleman and keep my hands to myself. You’re so damn soft.”

  “Oh?” It came out breathy and inquisitive.

  “You really have no idea what you look like, do you?”

  “I can see myself in a mirror. I know what I look like.”

  “But you just rolled your eyes.”

  “Did I?” A blush heated her cheeks too. “I’m not used to getting compliments from…”

  He waited and she didn’t want to continue.

  “From? You know you can’t stop now.”

  “I was going to say people like you, but I didn’t want to offend you.”

  His eyebrows scrunched down. “How could you offend—”

  “Hi. I’m Greg and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?”

  Cole continued to stare at her for a second and then focused on the waiter. “I’d like Coke Zero if you have it. Charlie?” He looked at her again and she had to concentrate.

  “Just the water for me, please.”

  “Perfect. And an appetizer for you two? We have a crab fondue that’s incredible and the best calamari you’ve ever tasted. Not too much breading and our house marinara comes with it to dip in.”

  “Ever had calamari before?” Cole drew circles on the back of her hand and she nibbled her bottom lip.

  “No, but I like seafood.”

  Without lifting his hand he nodded at Greg. “An order of calamari.”

  “I’ll have it out in just a few minutes. Would you care to place the rest of your food order now or when the appetizer is ready?”

  Cole pegged her with those midnight blue eyes again, kicking up her heart rate. He glanced at her throat and she wondered if he could see her pulse thumping away. “You ready to order now or you need a few minutes?”

  She pulled her hand away with the excuse of folding her menu and handing it up to the waiter. “I’d love to try the lasagna.”

  “Would you like a house salad?”

  “Yes. With the house dressing please.”

  He made notes on his pad, tucking the menu beneath his arm. “And for you, sir?”

  “Same. And I need an order of spaghetti and meatballs to go for later.”

  “Absolutely.” He picked up the other menu. “Be back with your drink and some rolls to get you started.”

  Greg walked away and when Charlie focused back on Cole, his gaze was locked on her again.

  “What?”

  “You have the prettiest eyes. I like being in the low light in here with you, but every once in a while the candles catch your irises just right and it’s almost like they’re—”

  “Two colors?”

  “Exactly.”

  “They are. Brown around the center and then green on the outside.” She made the circle motion in front of one of her eyes as if he needed the visual. Honestly she just wanted something to do with her hands.

  His hands on the table called to her. She yearned to touch him.

  She wanted to do more than just touc
h. It’d been a long time since she’d had a crush on someone. Felt nice. Nostalgic, even, with it being Cole sitting next to her. Surreal? Definitely. Especially as he scooted a bit closer.

  “So tell me about yourself. Where are you now? What do you do?”

  “I’m in Dallas actually. And I’m a teacher.”

  “A teacher. Ugh. I could never do that. I don’t have enough patience.”

  “I love kids. Always have. Used to babysit every weekend in high school, some during the week too. Took full-time nanny jobs all through college on summer breaks.”

  “Did you always want to be a teacher?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely. Highly focused.”

  Greg set Cole’s soft drink on the table along with a plate of rolls and a bowl filled with sauce. “Here’s the marinara that goes with the calamari. Figured I’d bring it now and you could enjoy it with your rolls. And here are your salads.”

  They thanked him and soon were alone again.

  “I assume you were good in school?” Cole dipped a piece of bread in the marinara and popped it in his mouth.

  “Quite.” She grinned and he smiled back as she grabbed a fork and took a bite of salad. “Mmm. Good dressing.” She took another bite. “What about you? Did you always want to be in the…” Not knowing the etiquette of talking about what he did, she leaned forward and whispered. “FBI?”

  “Man you’re cute. No. It was kind of a fluke actually. Someone from the D.C. office was a guest lecturer in a political science class I took in college. Agent Marcus Gremki. I was mesmerized hearing him speak. The places he traveled. Things he could share of what he was working on. I hit him up after class. Offered to buy him a cup of coffee in exchange for me picking his brain.”

  “Was it different? Speaking with him privately?”

  “No. He was the same approachable guy. You know you see movies and TV shows and read books and whatever and the agents are these larger than life characters. But more often than not we’re just regular people doing a job.”

  “And what do you do? I mean, if that’s something you can talk about?”

  Their calamari showed up and Greg brought them little plates too. “Food will be out in just a minute.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Thank you.” Charlie crossed her legs below the table and brushed the top of her foot up Cole’s leg. “Sorry,” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

  “I’m not.”

  “Are you always this flirty?” The question was out before she could call it back.

  “No.”

  “No? What do you mean, no?”

  “I’m not flirty. I don’t have time.”

  “Because of work?”

  “And other things.” It looked as if he was going to say something else along the same topic but he didn’t and placed a few pieces of calamari on his plate. “Eat up. I think you’re going to love them.”

  She took one and dipped it in the sauce. A moan left her lips before she’d even swallowed the first piece. “Where has this been all my life?”

  “Right here in Buffalo. Who knew?”

  “So how do you get into the FBI? What’s the process?”

  “Graduate from college first. Work experience is a must so I made sure and worked a lot the last couple years of school and then full time for another year. Then I applied at twenty-three, as soon as I could. Applications are accepted the end of December and into January of the next year. The application process is pretty brutal with how many people apply. But I got in. I kept up my communications with Marcus over the years and that really helped, I think. Then training. Twenty weeks of hell.”

  “That’s…wow. Five months.”

  “Longest five months of my life. Almost tapped out several times.”

  “But you made it through. Bet your parents were proud.”

  “Dad died right after I got to high school. Stroke. But Mom was ecstatic. Flew to Quantico for my graduation. It was awesome. Picking up my firearm after crossing the stage. Epic.”

  “Are you armed every day at work?”

  “I’m armed all the time.”

  “As in…wait. Are you armed right now?”

  “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you. And Kia said I had to return you in the same condition you showed up in.”

  “You talked to Kia?”

  “Yep. Read through your info in the packet you dropped off and had a few questions for her. She knew we were meeting for dinner. There were a few threats involved. All in all it was a nice conversation.”

  “Ugh. Sorry about that. She’s a bit protective. I would hang my head in shame but that would mean I’d have to stop eating calamari and that’s not gonna happen.”

  “Awesome, huh? Knew you’d love them.” He snagged another piece and shrugged. “And the rest they say is history.”

  “But you never answered the question of what you do. And how did you get stationed here?”

  “Worked my way up to field supervisor. Asked for a transfer here because I really wanted to work human trafficking. There’s a special division for that here because we’re so close to the Canadian border. Going through training, trafficking was what struck me as something I could make a difference in.”

  “I like hearing you talk about it. You’re passionate. That’s pretty awesome.”

  “What about you? What do you teach?”

  Greg showed back up, carrying two plates with a large piece of lasagna on each. “Hope you guys are hungry.” He set them down. “Parmesan for either of you?”

  “No thanks,” Charlie told him.

  “A little on mine.”

  Greg added a bit on top of Cole’s and then walked to another table to check on them.

  “Ahem.” Cole cleared his throat and raised his glass. He motioned toward her glass of water until she raised it. “To reunions.”

  “To first dates.”

  “Touché, lovely lady.”

  They clinked their glasses together and each took a drink.

  “Now prepare yourself to be wowed, Charlie. Best lasagna north of Mexico.”

  “That good, huh?”

  He took a bite and groaned. “Better. I think it’s better.”

  Blowing on her forkful of tasty pasta dish gave her a few seconds to watch him unguarded. “You’re different than what I expected.” She took a bite and savored it.

  “What did you expect?”

  “An asshole?”

  He barked out a laugh and took another bite. “I’d like to think I’ve never been an asshole. Cocky? Yes. I’ll cop to that one, but I don’t know. Losing Dad young probably had something to do with keeping me grounded. You never know what other people are going through, you know?”

  “I’m also surprised you aren’t jaded.”

  “I’m sure I am, but I try not to let it show. Work can get me down but I had to learn a long time ago to leave it at work. I’ve seen some great people hit rock bottom because of some of the shit we see. I never wanted that to be me. Life’s hard in general. No point in making it harder. What about you? I’m not a big fan of hearing about myself, so fill me in. What did you do after graduation? Where’d you go?”

  “I went to Columbia and got a bachelor’s in English. Then to the University of Texas and got my master’s in Art History and my teaching certificate.”

  “Why Texas?”

  “My parents moved down there to get away from the winters up here.”

  “They can be brutal.”

  Charlie nodded. “Dad died several years ago, long battle with cancer. My mom was a college professor and my dad was in school administration. So you can say being a teacher was kind of in my blood.”

  “No doubt. Destined for it, I guess. What do you teach?”

  “Art history right now. At a high school in Dallas.”
<
br />   “Oof. That’s gotta be rough. I’ve worked cases down there before. Public school, right?”

  “Yes. Public. I’d love to teach private. I’d also love to teach younger kids but the positions are very hard to come by. Waiting lists are insane for those teaching positions and to be considered, you have to get some pretty impressive recommendations.”

  “It’s all about who you know, not what you know. I get it.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But with your parents, don’t you know some pretty influential people? Not to mention Kia. Sounds like you’re really close to her, and she’s head of the Cardiac ICU here. That has to count for something.”

  “Sure, but I don’t want to use my relationships to earn a position at one of those schools. Nepotism isn’t a way for me to be proud of my accomplishments.”

  “I hear that.” After eating the last of his lasagna, he moved his plate aside and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “There are some really great private schools around here. Ever thought of applying up here? Or do you fear the winters enough to stay away?”

  “Actually the one I’d love to work at is here in Buffalo.”

  “Buffalo Academy of Arts?”

  Charlie froze with a bite of lasagna halfway to her mouth. She set her fork down. “How’d you know that?”

  “I have a bit of a vested interest in that school. It’s a great school.”

  “Yes, it is. Ugh. But the winters.”

  “Come on, snow is awesome.”

  “When you’re four and you don’t feel the cold, it’s great. But when you’re an adult? Salt and sand everywhere. Snow days. Power outages.” She wrinkled her nose and he laughed.

  “The notion of you being a wallflower doesn’t compute in my brain.”

  “I sure was. Pudgy. Glasses. No confidence. High school was pretty awful.”

  “What changed? How did you turn it around?”

  “Uhh…my cat, actually.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “When I moved to Texas and got my own apartment I decided to get a cat. I went to the pound just to look around.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m a big sucker when it comes to cats.”