Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“Sex doesn’t change anything. Even great sex.”
– Emerson Marlowe
“Yeah, it does.” – Gray Stone
“Oh, look at that, Emerson.” Gray’s voice was hushed and falsely excited at the same time. An interesting combo. “A limo. One waiting right in front of the FBI office. Who could be inside?”
She’d spotted the limo just seconds ago, right after they’d rounded the corner as they advanced toward the FBI office.
They were supposed to meet the others at 0600.
A time that was less than fifteen minutes away.
They’d stopped for coffee. She hadn’t even batted an eyelash when Gray had rattled off her preferred—and somewhat convoluted—order.
He’d been with her before for coffee pickups.
So, of course, he’d memorized her order.
He’d just grinned when she’d rattled off his stark request—black coffee. That was all he ever ordered, after all. Black coffee and a blueberry protein muffin.
They hadn’t spoken about the sex. The mind-blowing, give-me-more sex.
He’d slept in the bed with her. She knew because she’d woken up once, heart racing from a half-remembered nightmare, and he’d been there.
Warm, strong body. An arm around her. She’d felt safe.
Safer than she’d felt in years. She’d gone right back to sleep.
When she’d woken again, he’d been out of the bed. Showered and dressed already. Another crisp shirt—pale blue this time. Gray pants. Gray suit coat.
At first, he hadn’t said anything as he stared down at her in the bed. But his eyes had blazed. Then he’d told her to take her time in the shower before he double-timed it out of the bedroom.
He’d made her an omelet. They hadn’t spoken about the previous night. Just made small talk. He’d told her that his mother had taught him how to make omelets years ago. That he could also make some absolutely delicious grits and biscuits that were to die for.
She’d confessed to being a terrible cook. His omelet, by the way, had been heavenly.
The little kitchen routine had felt both foreign and oddly comfortable. Though that made zero sense.
And now…
The limo.
As she watched, the rear door opened. A tall, fit man with silver streaking through his dark hair rose from the back. “Emerson.” His lips curled. A brief hint of warmth. Then, “Your mother would like a word.”
Emerson stopped on the sidewalk. She’d known the confrontation would happen, sooner or later. “If she’d like to talk, then she should just call me, the way most mothers call their adult children. She doesn’t have to show up in her limo, waiting outside of my work.”
Owen Porter’s head inclined toward her. “She does if she suspects you are dodging her.”
“Emerson.” Gray’s delighted voice. “Have you been dodging the senator? How naughty. I approve.”
She would have elbowed him, but Owen chose that moment to advance a step toward her. He motioned with one hand. “Just you, Emerson. We have to hurry, though. She has appointments in town today.”
Of course, she did. Emerson had never thought that her mother had come all the way to Atlanta just to see her. That would be silly.
“Did he say, ‘just you’ right then?” Gray asked. “I’m hoping I misheard.”
“You didn’t mishear,” Emerson replied.
“That’s rather rude of him. Clearly, we are a package deal.” Gray twined his fingers with hers.
She jerked at the movement.
“Partner…” His voice dipped lower. Just for her. “Remember when I said you needed to get used to me touching you? Consider our cover story activated now.”
Only it wasn’t really a cover, was it? Not if they were truly lovers? And they very much were. She still had some faint marks on her body to prove that fact. Plus, she was sore in places that she just wasn’t going to mention to anyone.
But Gray advanced, strolling as casually as you please toward the limo, and his grip tugged her forward.
“An invitation wasn’t extended to you,” Owen informed him. His shoulders had stiffened.
“Owen Porter.” Gray eyed him. “How many years are you going to keep guarding the senator? You’ve been her head of security ever since you left the Navy, yes?
Former SEAL. Decorated. I would have thought you’d be looking for a job with more adventure.
More of a challenge. But a little digging on you last night showed that you’d been in this position ever since your discharge papers were approved…
that would have been right after Emerson’s father was laid to rest.”
Emerson made sure to mask her surprise. He’d been digging on Owen?
They’d collapsed together after the truly phenomenal sex.
She’d assumed he’d stayed in bed with her all night.
But, apparently, he hadn’t been as tired as she had been, and Gray had…
investigated Owen? Who else had he investigated? While she’d been dead to the world?
“Working with the senator is its own challenge, I can assure you of that.” Owen’s slightly mocking response.
Gray seemed to consider those words. “I can buy that. She’s a pain in the ass, isn’t she?”
“Gray!” Emerson couldn’t believe he’d just said those words.
He winked at her. “Let’s go see what she wants, shall we?” With that, Gray ducked into the limo, despite his very clear non-invitation, and he pulled her in after him.
Even as she got settled on the seat beside him, Owen was slamming the door and remaining outside. Emerson knew he’d stand guard and make sure no one else got close to the vehicle. That was his job, after all.
Standing guard. Making sure that Maxine didn’t have to face any unwanted obstacles. To protect the senator from Maine at all costs.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Maxine began as she beetled her brows and glared at Gray.
Ah, well, she did have one unwanted obstacle who’d just blasted past Owen. Honestly, Emerson was surprised that Owen hadn’t made more of an effort to block Gray.
He would have failed with more effort, though. She’d come to realize that pretty much nothing stopped Gray from getting what he wanted. Obviously, he’d wanted to chat with her mother.
“I was going to say the same thing to you. I mean, aren’t several senators in town for a meeting with the CDC?
You shouldn’t be here. You should be getting ready for that meeting.
” He made himself comfortable on the seat.
Sort of sprawled even as his fingers kept right on twining with Emerson’s. “I don’t mean to get in your business…”
Emerson was completely convinced that he did, in fact, want to get in her mother’s business.
“But I think your driver made a few wrong turns,” he finished. “The CDC building isn’t anywhere close to this location.”
Her mother raised her chin and let her icy gaze freeze Gray. “You do not want to play with me, Agent Stone.”
“I don’t. You are so right. I have things to do. Killers to stop.”
Her mother’s gaze shifted to his hand. The hand that gripped Emerson’s. “Why are you holding my daughter’s hand?”
“Because we’re working on a case,” Emerson said flatly. “Why are you in front of the FBI office?”
Her mother’s stare rose. Pinned Emerson. Blue eyes. Not the exact shade of Emerson’s. Her hair was blond. A blond applied every few weeks to make certain that no grays ever showed to the public. “You’re not seriously going to do this undercover mission with him.”
Gray sighed. “Figured you’d gotten the details from one of your spies. You have got to stop prying into FBI business. Get a new hobby.”
Her mother sucked in a sharp breath. “I am not prying.” She toyed lightly with the string of pearls that circled her neck.
She always wore those pearls. Fancy rings.
Glittering bracelets. “I am simply looking out for my daughter’s well-being.
It’s what any loving mother would do.” Then, “Emerson, you’ve trained with him for several weeks now.
You’ve even managed to arrest a serial killer.
Good job.” Flat. “I think this exercise can now come to an end. I’d like for you to return to DC.
You were offered the position at Georgetown, and I think it would be in your best interest to take it.
” She sent them a thin smile. Smugly satisfied.
Certain. “Thanks for your cooperation, Agent Stone. But you are no longer needed in Emerson’s life. This is where you say goodbye.”