Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
IAN
“How are you holding up?” my brother asked.
“Fine, I guess,” I said as I turned and paced in front of the windows in my condo.
It was spring in DC, and the cherry trees were in bloom. This was one of my favorite times of the year here, yet it felt as if all I could do was pace back and forth in front of the windows and make worried calls to my brother.
“You sound stressed,” Dallas replied. “Just be patient. They gave me a full update on this, and it's a solid case. Once they tie up a few more loose ends, you'll be able to stop feeling like you're keeping it to yourself. I gotta give it to you; you've handled it really well.”
“It doesn't fucking feel like it,” I muttered. “I don't even know how you and Noah do your jobs.”
Dallas’s laugh was dry. “You get used to it. Also, it's easier to hold on to information when it's not personal. You're the whistleblower in this situation, not the investigator. You also personally know the people implicated. I'm really proud of you.”
Although I knew my brothers didn’t think much of it, I was the youngest brother and the only one who didn't go into the FBI. Sometimes, I felt like the least responsible of the bunch even though I’d been the one to rebuild our family’s decimated finances in the aftermath of our father’s crimes.
It meant a lot to have Dallas say he was proud of me.
Because he was apparently a fucking mind reader as well, he added, “And you know we're all grateful for what you did and still do since we lost most everything.”
“Thanks, man,” I said gruffly.
“How are things with Jane?” He deftly changed the subject.
My lips automatically curled into a smile because everything with Jane was good. Except for one thing—my stress with work and this stupid investigation. I didn't mention that to Dallas.
“We’re good. She'll be down this weekend.”
“Are you stressing out because you can't tell her what's going on with work?”
“Yeah, I don't like keeping this a secret. My work schedule has been fucking hell because of it. I’ve been trying to work around and rebuild the business outside of the consortium without anybody picking up on what I'm doing, but it's stressful. I want to tell her because she means a lot to me.”
“You sound like a man in love,” Dallas said so matter-of-factly my heart lurched unsteadily in my chest.
“Wh-What?” I sputtered.
“Just what I said. Does that freak you out?”
“Hell, yeah, that freaks me out.”
Dallas laughed lightly. “You'll be fine. I think Jane is good for you.”
“Really? Actually, I don't even know why I'm asking that,” I corrected. “I know she’s good for me.”
“Then why are you freaked out about me saying you sound like you're in love?” he asked pointedly.
I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably and finally stopped my pacing. I adjusted one of my loose earbuds as I replied, “I don't know. I didn't expect any of this. I sure as hell didn't expect things to get serious.”
“Is there a problem with things getting serious?” my brother pressed.
“Uh, no. It’s just she's in Boston, and I'm here. I don't know…” My words trailed off, and I didn't like the discomfort around this. Sometimes, I had a hard time believing how fast this had happened with her.
It had been four months, and we'd spent all but a few weekends together. Now, I was counting down the minutes—literally glancing at my phone, the clock on the wall, and my watch repeatedly—as I waited for when I could go meet her at the train station.
“Maybe you should stop thinking so hard about it,” Dallas offered.
“Ya think?” I teased lightly.
“Yeah, overthinking feelings isn't really helpful.”
“Are you an expert now?”
“I don’t know if I’m an expert, but more than you, I suppose.”
“Damn straight. You're married, you’ve got a kid, and you're happy. I'm really happy for you. I'm happy for Noah too.”
“It’s your turn. Maybe you should move up to Boston. You've thought about it before, and that was before you and Jane got together.”
“I haven't told her yet, but that's my plan eventually.” I decided to be blunt with my brother.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t talked to her about it yet. I want to get through this whole legal case so that I can make some changes business-wise. I can’t do that until the legal mess is done. If I try while it’s still going on, too many questions will come up from my partners.”
“Makes sense, so you’ll have to wait. We'd love it if you were up here.”
“I'd love to be there,” I said, meaning it.
My two brothers, my sister, and I had always been close.
But we'd grown apart some after our mother died. She’d been the touchstone for the whole family.
And then our father obliterated what little respect we had for him.
He’d been cold, distant, and occasionally cruel when we were kids.
Then he’d committed massive financial fraud and landed himself in jail.
In the reverberations of that, my siblings and I had pulled closer again.
The idea of being in Boston with them had been blipping on my radar for a while now.
Jane’s presence only sweetened the idea.
I waited outside the train station. Whenever I came here to meet Jane, I often felt like a restless little boy.
Impatience spurred me as people filtered off the train, and I peered around to catch a glimpse of her honey-gold hair.
The second I saw her adjusting her backpack on her shoulders with her eyes down as she stepped off the train, my heart gave a rounding kick, and anticipation sizzled through me.
What had started as pure attraction was tangling like a vine within emotion.
I didn't think the two could be separated anymore.
Oh, to be sure, I wanted Jane. Fiercely.
But it was more than that, so much more.
I missed her when she wasn't here, and seeing her elicited an unfamiliar sense of joy inside.
I watched, waiting for the second she would lift her head.
When she did, she glanced around before pressing her glasses up on her nose, a habit that made my heart twist with a sweet ache.
Her eyes arced about the area before her gaze landed on mine.
Her lips curled into a smile. I was moving swiftly, threading through the crowd, until I reached her.
“Hey—” she began, her voice muffled as I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close.
I needed to touch her. As much as she stirred deep waters inside me, only she could help me feel anchored and not set adrift on the tumult of my own stormy emotions.
I breathed in the scent of her that had become familiar, a little musky with a subtle floral hint from her soap.
When I lifted my head, she peered up at me.
“I missed you,” she said immediately.
I brushed her hair away from her face. “I missed you too,” I said gruffly.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.
I took a breath. I was, and I wasn't. I wanted to tell her everything, the bundle of stress of the last seven months or so, all of it tangled up in work and the bitterness and cynicism that I tried to avoid.
I wanted to tell her it hurt me to keep this from her—even though I knew I had to until it was okay not to—yet I couldn't say any of that.
I simply answered, “I am now,” because that was entirely true.
Jane was here, and we had the whole weekend together.
I was getting greedy, though, and I wanted more.
She leaned up and pressed a kiss along the edge of my jaw.
I angled down, catching her lips with mine.
Right there in the train station with people surrounding us, I fit my mouth over hers and got lost in a fiery hot kiss.
I held her close and took deep sips from her mouth.
The sound of someone calling something snapped through my awareness, and we broke apart.
Jane’s cheeks were tinged pink, and her eyes bashful. “Wow,” she said.
“I did say I missed you,” I offered with a grin. “Want me to carry your bag?”
She shook her head. “It's a backpack, and I'm already wearing it.”
We turned, and I caught her hand, lacing my fingers through hers.
Once we started walking, I prompted, “Tell me how your week was.” I'd grown to love this time when we were connected.
These moments were mundane, but I loved just catching up.
The time was sweetened because I didn't have her all week, so it was nice.
I thought about my conversation with Dallas.
Even though there were things I couldn't tell her, I wanted to share with her my eventual plan to move to Boston. I told myself I would when the time was right. A few minutes later, we were in the car, and Jane said, “Let’s get takeout and just stay in tonight.”
I slid my gaze to hers as I waited at a stoplight. “Yeah?”
Her teeth snagged her bottom lip, and she nodded quickly. “Do you want to call now?”
“What do you want for takeout?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know me. I’m easy when it comes to food. What do you want?”
She grinned. “How about Indian food? That place we went to a few weeks ago.”
“Sounds good. You can order for me.”
I drove while she called in our order, and we picked it up on the way to my place.
The weekend started out good, really good.
For some reason, I held back on mentioning my plan to move to Boston because I didn't know when. The “when” of it was important. If this legal case dragged on too long, I might need to be down here longer than I hoped. Maybe I could just say fuck it and leave, but I wasn’t ready to consider that yet.
Everything was good up until late Saturday afternoon.
Then I got a call from the investigator. Jane was grading papers, so I took the call in the room I used for an office in my condo when I wanted to work from home. “What's up?” I asked by way of greeting.
“Well, I thought I should give you a heads-up that we've gotten calls from two of the other whistleblowers.
One of the targets has gotten wind of the investigation and is trying to figure out who talked to us.
I think you should be prepared for him to call.
I know we've already discussed what you should say, but do you need to run through it again?”
Tension coiled in my gut, mingling with a bitter acid of dread. “I’m all set. I know exactly what I need to say, and I'm not going to take his call. I'll handle it.”
“Good idea. Keep me posted with any updates.”
“You do the same.”
“Fuck,” I said to myself as I lowered my phone.
I’d been hoping all this time that I would just be able to tell Jane what was going on before the tension twisted between us.
Now, I was going to have to do my damnedest to keep this tension from being obvious.
I managed it for the rest of the weekend, but I was distracted.
I knew she sensed it. The only time I wasn't distracted was when I was making love to Jane.
Thank fuck, that was one place where my escape was complete.
Elemental and pure, nothing could slip into my consciousness once Jane and I were skin to skin.
But Sunday, when I took her to the train station, she looked over at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” I said quickly, probably a little too quickly.
Her eyes searched mine. “Okay. Would you tell me if you weren’t?”