Chapter Three
Jess
As the elevator climbs to the seventh floor of the Unity Building, home of R&D Associates, I try not to let any of my nerves show.
Logan said I have no reason to be worried, and I’m not. Not completely. But it’s been a good five years since I contributed to society in a way that didn’t involve raising quality little men.
Logan squeezes my hand, and I give him a small smile in the reflection of the mirrored walls.
God, do they clean this thing every day? The mirrors in our house don’t even shine this well.
I guess with both of us being hotshots again, we can finally hire that housekeeper.
I’m kidding. We already have one.
Logan and I were hired at R&D Associates straight out of college. Me in management, him as muscle. It didn’t take our boss long to realize Logan was more than just his size and strength.
He started mentoring my husband to take over without us even realizing it. We bought Mr. Duncan out completely three years ago.
Now we co-own the place.
The office isn’t a typical corporate setup. Since we’re a service firm, the elevator opens directly into a waiting area and reception desk instead of rows of cubicles.
Past that is the surveillance room.
While we don’t install cameras ourselves, we monitor them if the client requires it. That’s also where the tracking feeds from our field employees come in. Every operative wears one. Several workstations line the room, staffed around the clock.
The next door down is the employee break room. There’s a massive eighty-five-inch screen mounted on the wall, usually reserved for games or reality TV, and a small kitchenette for the workers on standby or break.
At the end of the hall sits Logan’s assistant and operations manager.
Mackie.
Her desk.
The one that used to be mine.
I’m not entirely sure where I fit now.
Logan introduces me to the receptionist like I haven’t already met the man.
“Hi, John,” I say, smiling when recognition hits his face. “How’s your wife?”
“She’s great,” he says warmly.
“Tell her I love the bakery,” I add as we walk past.
He grins. “Will do.”
Logan leans down and whispers in my ear, “I forgot about your freaky memory.”
I smirk back. “Better keep your distance, boss.”
He laughs out loud.
The surveillance room door opens, and a familiar head pops out.
Darren.
He rolls forward in his wheelchair, maneuvering easily into the hallway before straightening to his full seated height when he sees me.
“Jess,” he says, I lean down so he can kiss my cheek. “I was wondering what made this brute let out a human sound.”
I laugh while Logan does that half handshake, half brotherly grip thing they’ve always done.
There is only one man on this planet who can talk to Logan like that.
His brother.
“What brings you by?” Darren asks me.
“She’s back,” Logan answers simply, glancing at me.
“About time,” Darren replies glancing at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Maybe he’ll stop acting like a grouch now.”
Logan scowls while I hide my smile.
Darren leans closer to me and stage whispers loudly enough for Logan to hear, “I don’t think so.”
Logan sighs. “Isn’t night shift over, buddy?”
Darren rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. I was just heading out.”
He rolls past us, then tosses over his shoulder, “Good to have you back, Jess.”
I smile at his retreating form.
Darren runs the surveillance department at R&D. He used to work for Austin PD until an injury put him in a wheelchair.
It didn’t slow him down. If anything, it made him sharper.
My softie of a husband hires mostly former military and police. The ones who can’t do field work get assigned to surveillance. Logan calls it tactical.
I know it’s because he has a big heart.
“Hi,” a chirpy voice sings just as we step into the empty break room.
“Hi,” I reply, turning to Mackie just as she launches into an overly dramatic greeting, like we’re best friends who haven’t seen each other since roll call.
Logan cuts in. “Has the desk been set up?”
“Yes, sir,” she says quickly. “I had them set it up just like you said.”
I follow Logan into his office.
There’s a chair shoved into the corner. Next to it sits what can only be described as a stool masquerading as a table.
My smile freezes.
Logan does too.
“What the hell is this?” he says flatly. “I said a desk. Not… this.”
Before I can say anything, he grabs the chair by the back and drags it toward his own desk. He pushes his chair aside and slides mine in right next to him.
Then he steps back and studies it.
“I like it,” he declares.
I smirk.
When I look back, Mackie is still standing in the doorway looking like a deer in headlights.
“The phone,” I say.
She jumps, finally noticing the device buzzing in her hand. “Sorry,” she mutters before hurrying back to her desk.
Logan steps beside me and murmurs, “See? Needs direction on everything.”
I laugh softly. “I think it’s real.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I thought the helplessness was a flirty thing. But she’s actually just like that.”
He goes quiet.
I turn toward him. “What?”
His expression looks… wounded.
“You thought she was flirting with me?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Obviously.”
He tilts his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
My mouth opens. Then closes. Because that’s something I would’ve brought up before.
I shrug.
“Right,” he says quietly, nodding to himself. “Of course.”
He clears his throat. “I’ve got some calls to make. Why don’t you start going through the reports.”
He opens the door, pauses like he wants to say something else, but walks out without another word.
I stand there staring after him, wondering how I somehow became the bad guy.
Yeah, women hitting on him used to be something we joked about.
But that was before he flirted back.
Logan
Just when I think we’re past it.
I shake my head as I step out of my office.
Mackie stands the second I appear. “Sir, can I-”
“Can I have one fucking minute?” I snap, brushing her off and ducking into the conference room beside my office.
I drop into one of the chairs. Pulling out my phone, I stare at the list of missed calls waiting for me.
Then I put it facedown.
I know I messed up.
I let the line blur. I hurt Jess. She forgave me. We’ve been good. Really good, lately.
But moments like this make me wonder if she ever truly forgave me… or if she just learned how to live with it.
I stretch my neck, trying to work out the tension building there.
It’s not about me.
That’s what the therapist said. It’s going to take time for the trust to rebuild. And it is rebuilding.
What happened with Lenore was bad. The worst thing I’ve ever done. But I didn’t sleep with her. I stopped it. I stopped her.
I told Jess what happened. All of it. I begged for forgiveness. I went to therapy.
So why does it still feel like this?
Like there’s a thin sheet of glass between us that we both pretend isn’t there.
Jess used to joke about clients hitting on me. Even back when we first joined R&D and made the stupid decision to keep our relationship private. I still wore my ring, but that never stopped some women.
I always told her when it happened.
She thought I was bragging.
I wasn’t.
I was being honest. That’s how I was raised. Never lie. Not even if the truth makes you look bad.
And I didn’t. Not even with Lenore.
I told Jess every time I worked with her. Every trip. Every late night.
She thought it was strange when I went back into the field, but Lenore was our biggest client. More than that, she was the CEO of a company that regularly hired extra security. I wanted that contract. Needed it.
Jess understood. She really did.
Even when I skipped date nights to accompany Lenore to hers. Even when it became routine. Lenore would go out with some new guy, he’d turn out to be a disappointment, and we’d end up talking instead.
That was all it was. Talking.
Somewhere after overnight trips and dinners where she spent more time venting to me than speaking to the men across the table, we ended up in New York.
It wasn’t unusual to share a suite. Hard to guard someone when you’re on different floors.
We ordered dinner. Talked. Midnight came without either of us noticing.
Then her hand was on my thigh. I didn’t pull her closer. But I didn’t push her away either.
Not even when she kissed me.
It took her hand moving lower for reality to slam into me. For me to realize what I was doing. Who I was risking.
I stopped it.
But the damage was already done.
What made it worse was that we had to stay the night in that suite. She went to her room. I went to mine.
Try explaining that to your wife.
Yes, honey. We made out, but we slept in different beds.
Somehow that almost sounds worse.
I drag a hand down my face and try to remember what the therapist said the day Jess walked out of our session.
Put yourself in her shoes.
How long would it take me to get over my wife kissing someone else… then spending the night in the same suite?
A long time.
Probably longer than I’d want to admit.
I exhale slowly and push back from the conference table. Sitting here on my ass isn’t helping.
I step back into my office.
Jess is standing by the window. She turns when I come in.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry about that.”
Stepping toward the desk, I start dividing up the reports, giving myself something to do with my hands.
I don’t look up when I hear her move. Instead of taking the chair beside mine, she chooses the one across from the desk.
I’ll take what I can get.
I slide half the reports toward her. The employees have already written the secondary breakdowns. Our job is to make sure everything lines up. That the client isn’t being overcharged. Or undercharged.
It’s tedious work. Necessary but long.
She starts reading without a word. Nodding to myself, I start answering emails. Letting the silence lull me into getting some actual work done.
Around noon, Mackie appears with coffee.
I lean back in my chair after she leaves, my eyes drifting to the stack Jess has already finished.
I huff out a breath. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re back.”
She gives me a small smile. “Me too.”
I hesitate. “Listen, about before-”
Jess cuts me off. “We’re good,” she says softly.
I move without thinking, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in mine.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I love you. And I’m so grateful you forgave me.”
She looks at me and smiles.
But just like this past year, it isn’t as bright.
And I did that.
I squeeze her hands gently, wishing I could take back everything.