Chapter 4
brENNA
While I was the one who’d instigated this fake-marriage undercover op, I felt as though the roles had reversed. Atticus was taking charge of that aspect, and frankly, I loved it. Pretend or not, his kiss felt real to me.
“I’m, um, thinking of taking a walk before dinner,” I said, shifting away from him.
“Sounds good. I’ll go along.” He looked in the direction of the windows. “It’s a beautiful day.”
I hadn’t anticipated company. In fact, I was hoping to have some time away from him so I could drum it into my own head that this “relationship” was make-believe. “Actually, instead of a walk, I think I’ll go for a run.”
“Even better.”
I sighed, louder than I’d intended to.
“Brenna,” he said, reaching for my arm. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” I answered too quickly. “And you should get used to calling me Bronwyn.”
His hand lingered. “I’ve always loved that name. In fact, I’ve considered it for a daughter.”
A daughter? Considered names? I moved out of his reach. “Are you playing with me right now?”
His eyes scrunched. “Not at all.”
“You’ve actually thought about having kids?”
Atticus stood when I did. “It’s not so unusual, especially with everyone around me getting married and starting families.”
I felt my heart already breaking in two as I envisioned future gatherings where my brother would invite Atticus and his wife over for the holidays. Or he and Luke would take joint family vacations.
Always inviting me, of course. The lonely spinster sister.
“I run alone.” I practically sprinted over to the floating staircase, taking it two steps at a time, then slowing down when I almost missed one.
When I reached the top, I picked up my pace, racing into the closet to change into my workout wear.
In a minute flat, I was ready to leave. I even had my shoelaces tied.
I was also out of breath. Not a good thing, considering my plan was to beat my personal record for a 5k. Maybe I’d go a full ten.
When I came out of the closet, Atticus was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nervous energy to work off,” I responded without looking at him.
“Try again.” He stood and approached me.
Given my only options were to retreat into the closet or attempt scooting around him, I didn’t move.
“I need to make some calls,” I muttered.
He smirked. “While on a run? Sounds like a lot of heavy breathing.”
“I’ll walk that part.”
“You know what you should do instead?” He took a step closer.
I shook my head.
“Tell me why you’re freaking out.”
My eyes bored into his as he waited for me to confess what I never would—how much I wished the passion behind his kiss was real. How much I wished he’d done it because he wanted to, not because we needed to practice.
“You wanna know what I think?”
“Not particularly,” I said under my breath.
He stepped away. “Go run, Bronwyn. But know that when you’re done, we’re going to pick this conversation up again.”
We wouldn’t, but there was no point in arguing about it now. Instead, I took off down the stairs just as fast as he had this morning.
I ran a quarter mile on a path that went from below the house and along the water’s edge. When I came to a bench, I sat down, caught my breath, then thought about placing a call to Emma.
She and I met during the same investigation where I’d reconnected with Atticus. We were the same age, both had advanced to the same levels in our careers, and while she was at Treasury and I was with the DOJ, we understood enough about each other’s jobs that an easy friendship had formed.
Kodiak had mentioned her in the briefing, and with the amount of shit his coworkers were giving him about liaisoning with her, maybe she needed to talk to me as much as I did her.
The other thing was she was one of the few people outside of Atticus and me who knew what had happened on my family’s back porch all those years ago.
“Hey,” she said, picking up on the first ring. “How’s the undercover life?”
“Not like I thought it would be,” I admitted.
“How’s Atticus?”
“Weird.”
“How unlike him,” she deadpanned, then laughed. While she didn’t know him well, she’d met him at two joint briefings we had at K19 Sentinel Cyber’s headquarters a couple of weeks ago. He’d been in top form that day, cracking jokes to alleviate the tension the mission had brought.
“You were right.”
She sighed. “It’s happening already?”
Emma had warned me against requesting Atticus for this investigation, and every word she’d said was proving true.
“We’ve kissed a couple of times.”
It sounded like she’d dropped her cell, then picked it up. “You’ve kissed?”
“Practicing being newlyweds.”
She laughed out loud for the second time. “So who instigated it? Or them?”
“He did…I think.”
“I’m hanging up. I need to see your face.”
My cell rang a second later with a video call.
“Whoa. Where are you?” she asked when I stood, facing away from the water, not thinking about the view she’d have behind me.
“Sausalito.” I lifted my phone higher. “The land mass you see in the bay is Angel Island.”
“I want to move over to Justice. The only view I have is of the Washington Monument.”
“And Constitution Gardens. It’s pretty.”
“Neither of which are from my office. Anyway, back to Atticus. You said you think he kissed you first. Why aren’t you sure?”
“I may have suggested it. I really can’t remember. Everything happened so fast.”
She leaned forward. “How much trouble are you in right now?”
“Not trouble per se. It’s just…awkward.”
“Kissing your childhood crush—”
“I was a teenager.”
Emma smirked. “Same difference. But as I was saying, kissing someone you’ve wanted to for…how long?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked down and scribbled something on a notepad. “Ten years. So, how was it?”
This was what I loved about Emma. She saw through my bullshit, then rather than call me out on it, she immediately picked up on how I was feeling. No lectures. Not even an “I told you so.”
“Amazing,” I said barely above a whisper before sitting down on the next bench I came to on the pathway. “He’s good at it.”
“Which makes you wonder how much practice he’s had.”
I leered at her. “Actually, that hadn’t entered my mind, but thanks for putting it there.
And, just so you know, my brother has kept me well-informed about that.
Apparently, Atticus has a three-month expiration date on relationships.
Four if they’re really special.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but failed.
I hadn’t decided whether to tell her what happened earlier today, but what was the point in talking to her about this if I was going to leave things out? “There’s only one bed,” I blurted.
“Oh my stars, as my grandmother would say. No sofa?”
“It’s got a big curve in it.”
Her head cocked.
“I’ll take a photo later and send it to you.”
“Okay, one bed, go on.”
“It’s massive, so I suggested we share. Him on his side. Me on mine.”
“And?”
“When I woke up this morning, he was spooning me.”
This time when she dropped her phone, I could see it happen. “Sorry about that. He was spooning you?”
I nodded. “Then he woke up, realized what he was doing, and sprang out of bed like it was on fire.”
“Which, it kind of was, right?”
I pursed my lips at her. “Not helping.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say here. I mean, I expected something like this to happen, just not the first night.”
“It didn’t happen.”
“The kisses did.”
“Part of being undercover…”
“Right. What are you going to do?”
“What do you think Soledad would say if I asked her to assign someone else?”
Emma’s eyes flared. “You want to set him up with someone else, knowing the same thing that happened with you will happen with them?”
“Not me. Him. I mean, him, not me. I’d stay, he’d leave.”
She was thoughtful for several seconds. “After the pitch you made to get him assigned?”
I knew she was right. Our covers were firmly in place, plus I couldn’t do that to him.
It would mean coming up with a reason I no longer thought he was the right person for the job.
But I did, which meant lying. And for Soledad to act, it would have to be a big lie.
No way would I do that to either of us. “So, I’m stuck. ”
“If you want to look at it that way.” Her cell buzzed, and she looked down at it. “Speaking of awkward, it’s Agent Emeric calling again.”
“Kodiak? He’s supposed to be on his way here. Soon at least.”
“Do me a favor, and while he’s on the opposite coast, keep him occupied. Better yet, introduce him to as many women as you can. One should be able to get his attention off me and onto her.”
That didn’t sound good. “Is it bad enough you need to say something?”
She shook her head. “No, he keeps it mostly professional, but there’s underlying flirtation in every conversation we have.”
“Is there a reason for you to talk?”
“Thanks to you, there is. I’m his official contact at Treasury to help in any way I can with your investigation.” She looked up, like, above my head. “Oh, hey, Atticus.”
“Hey, Emma,” he said, leaning over my shoulder. “Kodiak being a pest?”
“This is a private conversation,” I snapped at him. “And don’t sneak up on me.”
“A private conversation on a walking path where multiple people have passed in one direction or another just in the time I’ve been standing here.”
I lowered my phone and looked up at him. “How long have you been here?”
He grabbed my wrist and raised my phone. “I heard Emma ask you to introduce him to a bevy of Northern California beauties.”
I jerked my arm from his grasp. “You can continue your walk now.”
Instead, he sat beside me. “About that, we need to, uh, talk.”
“If neither of you minds, I’m going to end this call now,” said Emma, disconnecting before I could respond.
“That was rude.”
“What’s rude is having personal conversations about work in a public setting,” he said, his voice carrying an edge I hadn’t heard before. He stood and scanned the area around us, then put his hand on the back of the bench and leaned down. “Anyone could have approached you the same way I did.”
“It was just talking to Emma—”
“Doesn’t matter who it was.” He sat down and leaned even closer.
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I wasn’t thinking like someone under surveillance.”
“You need to start. Now.”
I folded my arms and looked away, hating that he was right, hating more that I felt like a kid being scolded.
But I couldn’t argue. I had said things to Emma that would’ve blown our cover.
It didn’t matter how unlikely it was that we were on anyone’s radar yet.
I needed to be more careful. “I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“Sausalito is a small community. We’re new residents and wealthy ones at that.
Moving into a multimillion-dollar house definitely attracts attention.
Christ, it was part of asset forfeiture.
That alone raises questions for anyone paying attention.
” He pulled out his phone and showed me an app I didn’t recognize.
“Secure communications suite. Encrypted, untraceable, and monitored for any potential breaches.”
The DOJ had arranged for a fictitious title to be transferred in the names of Atticus and Bronwyn Nolan, along with a money trail that would show we’d bought it, if anyone looked. But that wasn’t the point.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the house.” He held my hand, weaving our fingers together and doing a far better job of acting the part we were playing than I was.
After we’d gone a few feet, he let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, then stopped walking. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry for being so harsh. I was worried about you.”
Warmth spread throughout my body. Had he been? Because of the mission? Because I was his friend’s younger sister? Or because he cared about me in a different way?
Once we were inside, I asked to see the interface again. “How often do you have to worry about this level of surveillance?”
“Every mission. But this one’s different.
” His expression hardened. “Most criminal networks we infiltrate are focused on immediate threats—law enforcement, rival organizations, territorial disputes. This group is actively hunting for intelligence operatives. They’re on the lookout for people exactly like us. ”
The implications crystallized. “The social events aren’t just recruitment opportunities.”
“They’re counterintelligence operations. Every couple they evaluate, they’re also screening for potential law enforcement,” he said, leaning forward.
“Which means our performance tomorrow night has to be flawless.”
“More than that. It has to be authentic.” He met my eyes. “The kind of chemistry and intimacy that can’t be faked, because these people’s lives depend on recognizing deception.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me. To successfully deceive sophisticated criminals, I’d have to stop deceiving myself about the depth of my feelings for him.
“We need to establish protocols,” I said, taking charge of my investigation’s security requirements. “All mission-related conversations happen in the house after security sweeps. Personal calls that even touch on work go through encrypted channels.”
“Agreed,” he said, stepping closer. “And we assume someone’s always watching when we’re in public.”
“Starting now?”
“Starting now.” He took my hand, and his fingers tightened around mine. “Stay close, wife. From now on, you and I are together. Never alone. Got that?”
“Got it,” I murmured, wondering how in the hell I was going to get through the next few hours, let alone however long this investigation took.