Chapter 2
I try not to stare at the woman seated across from me but it’s impossible. First of all, she’s not supposed to be here. Second, I’m working, or trying. And third, and most importantly, she just put herself in potential danger.
I rub my chin and glance six tables over to where my target, Liam Hawthorne, sits, tapping away on his phone. The man has killed people. Well, he’s suspected of killing people, but he’s mostly known for his white-collar crimes.
Nothing screams “rookie agent” like babysitting a suspected art thief. My partner, Serena Cruz, and I have been watching this guy since he landed in the U.S. two nights ago. But he hasn’t done anything besides order takeout and go on walks in the park. And flirt with every woman under thirty. Call me a glutton for punishment but I was hoping for a bit more excitement for my first official FBI case since transferring back to Arizona. Which is why I have to prove myself. Hawthorne is young and arrogant, believing he’s untouchable since he hasn’t been caught.
Yet. I’ll be changing that soon.
First, I’ve got to get rid of this girl.
“What’s going on?” Cruz barks through the communication device in my ear.
I wish I knew.
“Look, I’m not sure what we’re doing,” I try, but this woman, with the beautiful name, wants to do all the talking.
“Me neither. I’ve never met anyone on the internet before. Well, I guess not on the internet, but from the internet. Not that you live on the internet.” Her rambling is kind of cute, but I can’t think about that right now. Not while I’m on the clock. At least now I’ve pieced together the fact that she thinks she’s on a date. With me.
On any other lonely night of my past life, I would have welcomed her quirky presence. Probably would have even flirted with her because despite how confusing this is, she’s absolutely stunning. That much was clear the second she walked up to my table. With short hair that’s so blonde, it’s almost unnatural, and cute pink, full lips. Her eyes are bright blue and animated, but what took my breath away was that dress. Blue as the morning sky, hugging her curves in all the right places, stopping just above her heels. The full skirt also boasts a slit that’s tempting enough to kill a man. She looked like she should be walking up to the bachelor house for a ridiculous reality show.
And I’m suddenly all too aware that I’m a bachelor, with an empty house. Well, it’s more of an apartment bu—
Was my drink spiked?
I can’t entertain thoughts of women. Not unless I’m chasing them down to bring them to justice. This one across from me hardly seems capable of committing any crime. My eyes flit once more to Hawthorne, ensuring he hasn’t escaped while I’ve been…distracted, then back to the woman.
“Amelia,” I say.
“Yes?” Amelia asks, batting long eyelashes at me. I have to turn her away, tell her I’m not the guy she’s looking for, but even I have a heart, and right now it’s beating at unnatural speeds.
Say it. Get rid of her.
“My name is Amelia, but all my friends call me Millie,” she speaks before I can.
“Amelia,” I try again, pointedly using her given name, but she cuts me off again.
“Also, I might have lied when I said I like Italian because all I really like is pizza but this place is so fancy I’m not sure they have that so I’ll order what you order, if that’s okay.”
It’s then that she notices I already have food.
She frowns at my plate of gnocchi, then at me.
“Seriously? You couldn’t wait for me to order? Is chivalry dead?” Her voice rises and several people glance over.
Cruz raises her eyebrows as she passes with a serving tray, and I swallow. I”m going to get fired.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, trying to calm the woman down before we attract the attention of my target.
Not that he knows who I am. But I’d prefer to stay completely off his radar. And to keep this innocent woman out of the crosshairs as well.
“I’ll call the waitress back.” I motion to Cruz.
She finishes with a customer and approaches our table.
“What can I do for you?” she asks, her statement directed fully at me. All I have to do is say the word and Cruz will get rid of Amelia. Kindly of course.
I think. We’ve only been partners for a couple of weeks.
I actually have no clue what she’d do to her.
“Well, my date didn’t think to order for me, so I’ll have the most expensive thing on the menu. He’s paying, I believe?” Amelia looks at me to confirm and all I can do is blink in response.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cruz shoots me a smirk before turning away.
“Well.” Amelia claps her hands. “Now that that’s settled, what should we talk about?”
Besides the fact that she’s sitting with the wrong man?
I glance back at the target who is still tapping away on his phone. If anything, I guess Amelia has made this night less monotonous. What’s better for my cover than to pretend I’m on a date?
I study the beautiful woman across from me. She’s clearly not shy and has no problem speaking her mind. There’s only one tiny crack in her confidence that pops up whenever her thumb brushes her empty ring finger like she’s missing something she used to wear there. She was in a serious relationship recently. Which means I should tread carefully with how I get rid of her; she could be fragile somewhere beneath her dazzling facade.
“You said you don’t date like this often,” I hedge, enough to curb my curiosity.
“Gosh no,” she says and seems to relax slightly. “I’d rather know who I’m going out with instead of worrying my date might kill me after dinner.”
“Most would probably wait until after dessert.”
She laughs, and it pierces my very soul. It’s an unfiltered, joyful sound that reminds me of my mother. Grief tries to weasel its way into my heart, but I don’t allow it the space it needs to expand and take over.
“Do you have experience eliminating your dates?”
I pick up my water glass, offering her a soft smile. “Dates? No.”
“So, you’re not a killer?” she asks.
Before the FBI I fought in the war. I can’t say no. That would make me a liar. But…part of my job now is lying. “Not tonight.” I offer her a look that she will hopefully interpret as flirting and raise my glass in a silent toast to not kill her.
“That’s good because with those muscles you could do some serious damage.” Her gaze drags down my body in an appreciative way and I nearly choke on my water.
A good date would offer her a compliment in return.
“And you are breathtaking. The color blue was made for you.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes light up and I notice they are nearly the same color as the dress.
“What are you doing, Lover Boy?” Cruz says in my ear and I flinch. I forgot she was there. “Stop undressing her with your eyes and focus. Get her out of there. We don’t know who is meeting Hawthorne.”
Right. Work. Danger.
I scratch my ear, still not used to these little comms.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Amelia asks, her head cocked to the side.
“Doing what?” I take a bite of my food.
“Touching your ear? And you’ve been watching someone over there, but I don’t know who.”
Amelia turns her head to look around, but I lean forward, casually brushing my fingertip along her wrist, hoping to disarm her before she makes eye contact with a man she shouldn’t even be in the same room as.
“I was nervous tonight as well. I…” I pause for dramatic effect. “I find it hard to date with my social anxiety.”
She flips her hand over and clasps mine. “I like a man who is honest.”
Well, then she clearly won’t like me.
Static fills my earphone and I wince as discreetly as possible.
“I’m going to run to the ladies room.” Amelia squeezes my hand before letting go. “Don’t eat my food if it arrives.”
I hold up my hand. “Scouts honor.” I watch her walk away. I try to tear my gaze away but all attempts of doing so are futile once I’ve caught a glimpse of the back of her dress. Thin straps drape daringly over her shoulders and down the sides of her back, crossing over her spine with a delicate bow.
I’m not the only one who has noticed the daring dress and the even more beautiful woman wearing it.
Hawthorne eyes Amelia’s retreating form like he wants to devour her.
“Harris. You’ve picked up attention.” Cruz’s voice is in my ear.
“I know.” I tug at my too-stiff collar.
I don’t know why Hawthorne is here, but I’d rather not find out tonight when there is a civilian to complicate things.
“Meet me in the back,” I mutter to Cruz. “And disable the alarms.”
I stand up before Hawthorne can consider following my “date” and weave through the tables with ease, not like a man clocking every exit and running every worst-case scenario through his head. I wanted excitement. I got it. Now I hope I can get rid of this girl before I put her in danger.
I duck into the back hallway near the bathrooms, barely obscured from Hawthorne’s view.
“Still watching,” Cruz says.
The bathroom door opens and Amelia startles. “Oh, Chad. You scared me.”
“Sorry,” I offer a grin that I know will make the dimple in my chin crease, giving me the cover of innocence I need. “I’m already finding I can’t be without you for a moment.”
Cruz’s laugh is instant. “That was so lame.”
“Aw,” Amelia coos, reaching up to play with the lapel of my suit coat. “I was worried I would hate you. But you’re not that bad.”
I’ve definitely received better compliments.
I grab her wrist, tugging her into the wall with me, and out of Hawthorne’s line of sight.
“What are you doing?” Amelia gasps as she falls into my chest. Her gaze darts over my face before landing on my lips.
My thumb brushes the silky, smooth skin of her lower back and she shivers. “I wanted a minute alone with you.”
“That’s so sweet.” Her hand skates around my back and right over the gun under my suit coat. Da—
“What’s that?” she shrieks, shoving away from me.
“It’s not what you think,” I say, attempting to pull her back or quiet her, either one will do.
“I think it’s a gun.” She hisses the last word, but I swear it reverberates around every inch of the restaurant beyond us. “You are going to kill me!”
This time I grab her around the waist and spin, pressing her against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I growl. “I’m trying to keep you out of danger.”
“The ear scratching, the watching!” Her eyes narrow before widening. “You’re a cop!” She pokes my chest, with a little too much glee.
My pulse kicks up a notch. She’s going to blow my whole cover.
“I’m not a cop,” I whisper, but she doesn’t seem to hear me.
“Are you undercover? You must be a detective. Oh my gosh, this is so exciting, what should I do? I’ve never been undercover before.” She jumps up and down in my arms. “Who are you following? Do I kno—”
“Shut her up!” Serena yells in my ear.
I mentally race through my limited options and choose the quickest one.
I kiss her.
Whatever calm and chaste kiss I’d been imagining, is replaced the second my lips meet hers. Amelia takes control of this kiss like it was her idea. And I…don’t hate it. Her tongue glides over my bottom lip, and a part of my brain, the part that I’m supposed to be using right now, threatens to shut down.
I spin with her still crushed to my chest, settling her against the emergency exit.
She lets out a soft gasp but only kisses me harder. My right hand goes rogue, sliding down the curve of her spine. I hit the bow at the back of her dress and snap back to my senses.
She’s in danger.
I push open the door behind her and slide my other hand to the front of her hip. Her teeth graze my bottom lip and before I can think better of it, I shove her into the dark alley.
She stumbles over a damaged patch of concrete, and I feel every bit the jerk I am.
Shock, confusion, and hurt all shudder over her features, but the last thing I hear before the door closes between us is, “You’re not my date, are you?”