Crocodile Tears (Romance Expected Dating Service #2)

Cal

The hotel room in Bogotá is exactly what you’d expect for someone in my line of work—functional, forgettable, and boasting enough exit routes to make a paranoid ex-soldier feel comfortable.

My duffel bag sits half-packed on the single chair, and my tactical gear is organized with the kind of precision that screams “former Special Forces” to anyone who knows what to look for.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab the notebook I’ve been keeping since my last therapy session.