Chapter Forty-Three
“Bye!” Chelsea grabbed the Explorer’s door handle to head into the gloomy, raining cold, but Liam pulled her back.
“Not so fast.” At the front of the building, in front of God and all to see, he laid a kiss on her so hot the stormy fall day would feel like a summer heat wave.
He ended it with a gentle but seriously sexy nibble of her bottom lip that made her equilibrium seesaw until she saw stars. Then, breathless, limp, and lovestruck, she finally fell away with what had to be a loopy grin.
“Have a good day, Sunshine.” He settled back and dangled his wrist over the top of the steering wheel. The stubble shading his cheeks and chin and the dark green in his eyes were the cherries on top of the world’s most addictive sundae.
How can he sit there so calm and cool? She needed to uncurl her toes before walking into the building. “You too.”
Chelsea floated out of the Explorer, shut the door, and gave a quick wave.
He was a miracle worker. Not fifteen seconds before, she’d been lost in a jumble of anxious nerves, prepping what she’d say to Calhoun and how she’d handle Mac.
She’d spent half of their drive rehearsing a take-a-stand conversation that could be applied to either man, no matter the topic.
Her shoulders had been too tight, and her focus hadn’t been on what mattered: Zee Zee Mars.
But now she was positively giddy.
Liam waited until she sashayed up the front stairs of the federal office building, and when she turned to smile and wave, he gave a smolder and salute before he drove away.
There was nothing she couldn’t handle today. And maybe that was always the case—or so she hoped—but today she had Liam in her corner to remind her of that truth.
Chelsea entered through the familiar glass door and breezed to the security line. It clipped along until she relinquished her purse and weapon for inspection and said hello to the same guard who’d scanned her badge for years.
“Nice to see you again.” He waved her through the Magtron. “Looks like your vacation put a bounce in your step.”
She didn’t correct him on her forced time off but beamed. That drop-off kiss still radiated in her. “Looks like it did.”
He said goodbye with an approving, friendly nod as she collected her belongings. The day wouldn’t be so bad. Nothing could turn her smile upside down.
She followed the hallway and waited for the elevator with a woman engrossed in her phone, and two men who worked on the fourth floor.
The elevator opened as a faraway clap of thunder boomed. They murmured small talk that they’d made it inside before a storm crashed.
Just before the elevator doors closed, Mac strode in and glared her way. “Just who I was looking for.”
Oh, joy. She might’ve been saved from one storm but was headed straight toward another one. “Here I am.” She angled to face him as he pushed next to her in the small elevator. “In the flesh.”
His scowl didn’t soften, and Chelsea shifted her purse to the other shoulder.
Still, Mac stared, not side-eyeing her but flat-out facing her direction and glowering.
The elevator crept like it might stop any moment, and she couldn’t put up with Mac’s attention. “What?”
“You tell me.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Tell you what?”
“Did you drive in?” he asked.
She squinted, confused, then glanced around at what felt like the slowest elevator on earth. “No. Why?”
“I know.”
“Good for you.” Her forehead pinched. “What’s your problem?”
“Who dropped you off?”
She drew back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
His voice had lowered, but it wasn’t as if they had personal space. Everyone could hear everything, maybe even the weird way she was breathing.
“Cool your jets, my friend,” Chelsea said.
“I’m your partner, not your friend.”
The elevator stopped, and another woman joined them.
“I’ll talk to you upstairs.” Then Chelsea turned away, though she could feel his gaze boring into the side of her skull. The elevator doors still hadn’t shut. Chelsea jabbed the door closed button.
Once again, the elevator stopped. This time on the third floor. Both women exited. Mac took the extra room to step into her line of sight.
“What is your problem?” she asked again.
The elevator doors inched closed, and Chelsea decided to ignore Mac.
“I know who dropped you off,” he shared.
“Good for you.” Chelsea clamped her jaw shut.
He crossed his arms as though he’d scored a point in an investigation. The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and emptied. Mac pressed the door closed button.
As soon as they were alone, she snapped. “Stand down, partner.”
“As your partner, I need to know what the hell is happening with you.”
Coldness chilled her blood. “I could ask the same thing about you.”
“Bullshit.”
Her throat tightened. This wasn’t any of the conversations she had readied to wage. “Stop cursing at me.”
But he knew the words didn’t matter. She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I haven’t even sat down yet, and you’re jumping down my throat.”
“We have an agreement.”
They did, and it revolved around a strict openness in all work and home aspects.
Knowing the other’s mindset would keep them alive.
But it only worked if they both were on board, and Mac definitely wasn’t.
Chelsea threw her hands out. “You want to throw around our rules? How about you set Calhoun straight about my drinking problem.”
“What the hell do I know?”
Furious, Chelsea waved him away. “You know.”
“I know you’re out cavorting with—”
“Cavorting?” She turned, ice shards flowing in her veins. “What kind of accusation is that?”
“A very specific one.”
“You have no idea what I’m doing. Back off.”
“I know what you should be doing with your best friend’s boyfriend. Nothing.”