by Misty Evans
Checking the bathroom door was closed, she pulled out her cell phone and headed for the kitchen.
It was after hours. Wanda’s phone went to voicemail and Sophie left a detailed message about everything Lexie had told her. While she did so, she surveyed the interior of the fridge for dinner options.
And found something she hadn’t expected.
A single pink rose sat in a juice jar on the top shelf. One from the climbing rose bush outside.
Nelson had brought her a flower?
As she finished her message to Wanda and ended the call, she brought the flower out and breathed deep. The light scent of the rose tickled her nose.
Such a small thing, but it made her heartbeat speed up in her chest. Nelson was amazing on so many levels. She felt terrible guilt for ruining his previous operation. Guilt for so many damn things.
Guilt was a useless emotion, though. Little Gran had taught her that. Every day was a fresh start. Better to keep moving forward and make the world a better place than to dwell in a past that could never be changed.
After giving the rose a special place in the center of the table, she went to work making dinner. She was frying chorizo and thinking about the next day, when Nelson slid up behind her.
His big, strong hands gripped the top of her hips as he nuzzled her neck. The clean scent of his soap wafted around her, mixing with the spicy smell of the meat. She laughed despite herself as his lips nibbled at her earlobe.
An unsettling feeling took up shop in her chest. How was she supposed to deal with the operation at the same time she had to deal with the churning emotions Nelson evoked? One minute they were arguing over the case, and the next, they were screwing each other blind.
Worse, it was getting harder and harder to keep the two areas of her life separate. She couldn’t get away from her thoughts about him by focusing on the case, because he was such a huge part of it now.
And when she caught herself daydreaming about a future with Nelson, the case—with the end only hours away—ruined it. There could be no future for the two of them. No serious relationship. They were both too dedicated to their jobs.
“Smells delicious,” he murmured against her neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, his front pressing into her back. “How soon do we eat?”
Such a normal, homey thing to say as their bodies spooned over the stove. As if they were a real couple, married and already settled into a routine.
Sophie rested her free hand on top of his arms and closed her eyes for a second. What would it be like to have a normal relationship? One where she had someone to count on, to talk to, to love?
Resting her head back against his shoulder, she held onto the image a moment longer. He was shirtless, and she could feel the heat of his chest through the thin shirt she wore. If only she could stay like this forever, safe in the circle of his arms. “Five, six minutes, maybe.”
He kissed her temple. “I need to make a call. Then I’ll get us drinks.”
He released her and, just like that, the idyllic, homey vision evaporated. The agent inside Sophie struggled to the surface, pushing aside the bitter stab of hurt. How ridiculous, to be hurt by Nelson exchanging her for a phone call.
She took a deep breath and focused on the frying meat. It wasn’t Nelson’s fault that she was having these stupid daydreams. “Who are you calling?”
“My boss,” he said. “I have to go into town with Morales tonight. While he’s busy, I want to talk to Cooper and Agent Rios. Update them on our situation. I can get the ledger back from her then.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly, Sophie felt the touch of his hand on her elbow. “You okay?”
No, I’m not okay. I’m freaking in love with you.
Making sure her calm, collected mask was in place, she pasted on a smile. “Go make your call. I don’t want dinner to get cold.”
Leaning forward, he gently kissed her lips. “It’s almost over. You did it, Sophie. You did good.”
He smiled and patted her cheek. As he turned and walked out of the kitchen, he was reaching in his pocket for his phone.
Sophie turned off the stove and moved the skillet off the burner. From the oven, she withdrew a cookie sheet of toasted tortillas. Trying to keep her mind blank, she began to build the dinner she had in mind. Her fingers shook as she scooped meat onto the tortillas and sprinkled them with different toppings. Her chest hurt, her eyes burned. Her stomach felt like a wet washcloth that had been wrung out.
Stupid heart.
Nelson’s low voice murmured from the living room. Damn him for being so sexy, so loyal.
So good to me.
Heat flooded her cheeks. For a second, she felt woozy. Stumbling back, she found one of the kitchen chairs and sank into it. What was wrong with her? It was illogical for her to feel anything but attraction to Nelson, and here she was, confusing good sex with love.
Great sex, she corrected herself. Amazing sex.
But still. Sex didn’t equal love.
And yet, her heart didn’t seem to care about logic.
Her heart knew it wasn’t about the sex. It was the fact that Nelson paid attention to her. Real attention. Not just to her physical looks. Crazy as it seemed, he understood her goals and motivations and was helping her close this case after nine long months of being undercover.
He made her feel special. Like she was his friend.
Her job had always been her lifeline. The only thing connecting her to a normal life. Working for the FBI gave her life purpose. Without it, she had none if she could not find her sister.
Which was looking like less and less of a possibility. She’d been fooling herself all these years, believing that if she found her sister’s trail, rescued her sister from the life she’d fallen into, they might be able to become a family again.
She been fooling herself into believing her sister was still alive. Odds were, Angelique, like so many lost girls, had had her life cut short.
Even if she was alive somewhere, and Sophia were able to rescue her, she would most likely need a lifetime of therapy to overcome the atrocities she had lived through.
More damning, she probably blamed Sophie for everything that had happened and with good reason. No way she would welcome her big sister, the one who’d left her at a critical juncture in her life, back into her world.
With the Morales case about to wrap up and the possibility of finally finding out what had happened to Angelique within reach, Sophie wondered what she had left. Her job seemed less significant. She had no one to go home to. Truth be told, she didn’t have a home. Before this case, she’d rented an efficiency apartment in L.A. Knowing she might not be back for a long time, she’d given up the lease and put her things in storage.
Although she’d been working, her time with Lexie had made her yearn to be part of a family again. The past few days with Nelson had made her yearn for a relationship.
She’d lost so many important people in her life, the thought of sharing anything—her heart, her past, her future—with anyone scared the crap out of her.
“Soph?” Nelson was standing in the doorway. A hunk of hair, still wet from the shower, hung down over his forehead. His dark brows were drawn, causing a crease between them. “You sure everything is okay?”
“Fine.” Sophie started to rise, but the world, or at least the kitchen, tilted around her.
Her legs went numb, refusing to hold her. She fell back, hitting the edge of the chair and flopping sideways.
Strong hands caught her before she hit the floor. On a sharp inhale, she found herself in Nelson’s arms.
“Fine, huh?” He stared into her eyes, the crease deepening between his brows. “You don’t seem fine.”
Hair stuck to her cheek and she brushed it away, finding a slight sheen of perspiration on her skin. “It’s nothing. Just…”
She tried to finish the lie, but words eluded her.
“When was the last time you ate?”
At the mention of food, s
he realized he could be right. “I haven’t eaten all day. Must be low blood sugar.”
With great care, he eased her onto the chair, hesitating a moment to make sure she wasn’t going to fall off again. Assured she was okay, he sauntered over to the refrigerator, grabbed a soda from inside and brought it back. The soda was in a glass bottle with a metal cap. He used the edge of the table and smacked the cap with his fist. Pop! The cap flew off. It landed on the tabletop and spun precariously close to the edge.
He handed her the pop. “Drink up.”
The orange liquid fizzed on her tongue as the cap stopped spinning. It burned the back of her throat as she slipped, the warm sensation from the carbonation traveling all the way down her chest and into her stomach.
When she started to set the bottle on the table, Nelson stopped her with a finger on the bottom. He guided it back to her lips and tipped it up. “More.”
After two more swigs, he seemed satisfied, and turned to inventory the progress of dinner. “What are we making here?”
“Mexican pizzas.”
“Hmm.” Without any instruction, he went to work, piling ingredients on the flat tortillas and bringing two to the table a minute later. Snatching up her pizza cutter, he sliced her round tostada into quarters, then did the same to his with a slight flourish.
He slid one plate toward her as he took a seat. Realizing he didn’t have a drink, he tilted back in his chair until he could reach the fridge. Balancing the chair, he reached inside and grabbed a beer. Before the refrigerator door shut, his chair’s feet hit the floor, and he popped the top on that bottle in the same manner as her soda.
He chugged the beer, set the bottle down, and eyed her as he bit into his mini pizza. Chunks of tomato, lettuce, cheese, and chorizo fell onto his plate. “Is this one of Little Gran’s recipes?”
He was beautiful, even in the wane overhead light. She’d never before thought of a man as beautiful, especially not Nelson. Sexy as hell, yes. Brooding, cocky, sin on a stick, absolutely. The kind of man Little Gran had always warned her about.
As she sat across from him, drinking him in on their last night together at the same time she drank the orange soda he had forced on her, beautiful was the only word that came to mind.
His hair, now starting to dry, popped out in places from where he’d slicked it back. The inkings on his smooth, tan skin emphasized his biceps and chest as he fed himself. His nearly black eyes watched her carefully from his side of the table, taking in every movement, even as he tried to act casual. He knew she hated being pampered or worried over.
“No,” she answered. “This recipe is mine.”
He nodded. “It’s damn good.”
A warm buzzing that had nothing to do with the soda set up shop in her stomach. “Thank you. If the chorizo isn’t spicy enough for you, you can add hot sauce.”
“I like it the way it is.” His gaze was intense as he watched her take a bite of her own pizza. “It’s delicious.”
The warmth in her stomach spread and a light fluttering low in her belly made her flush. Suddenly, she was famished. She dug in, and their conversation came to a halt.
At least the verbal part. As Sophie downed her food, and Nelson inhaled his, she felt an electrical charge of energy flowing between them. He watched her eat, the crease between his brows disappearing and lust slipping into his eyes. As she finished her pizza, licking her fingers, he jumped up and brought her another.
His hand brushed hers as he slipped the pizza off the spatula and onto her plate. Another flourish of the pizza cutter and she had four neat quarters again. “Do you need anything else?”
Just you. “No, I’m good.”
He heaped another tortilla round with ingredients, adding extra chopped jalapeños, and sliced it on his plate before sinking into his chair. His eyes slid over her again in a way that sent heat to the spot between Sophie’s legs.
“Tonight is poker night,” she volunteered. “Rodrigo never misses it. I’m surprised he’s taking you though.”
She bit into her pizza. The cool cheese and lettuce contrasted perfectly with the warm, spicy meat.
Nelson drank his beer. “He wants me to lay a trap for Blue.”
“Tonight?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll play along, pretend to be trying to draw the man out. Tomorrow, it will be over.”
“Especially for Agent Blue since his cover is blown.”
“Blue will be fine. Morales isn’t going to tell anyone between now and then. Think how it looks.” He chewed on some pizza and swallowed. “Blue was an undercover operative in Rodrigo’s father’s cartel for years. Not the kind of thing you want to get out. Undermines business.”
“Blue’s days are still limited. Rodrigo will put out the word once he’s in jail. At that point, he’ll have nothing to lose.”
“Unless the CIA uses Lexie as leverage.”
The thought chilled her. “How?”
“If they want to keep Blue under down here, what better way to shut up Rodrigo then to offer refuge to his little sister? He keeps his mouth shut and she ends up in a nice, comfy home with a family who will keep her safe. If he talks, she goes to a Mexican orphanage.”
“You’ve put her right in the middle of this by blowing Blue’s cover.”
He wiped his hands on a napkin. “She was already in the middle of this, Soph. The CIA isn’t happy with me, but I spoke to Agent Rios a little while ago and she’s working to cut a deal with them to help the kid out.”
The orange soda burned in her stomach. She was never going to see Lexie again after tomorrow. “I made some calls. I already have someone working on a solution.”
He stopped and stared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His indignant tone didn’t set well with her. “It was my problem. I didn’t think you cared what happened to the girl.”
“Of course, I care.” He closed his eyes for a second and took a breath. Opened them again. “Look, I don’t want to fight. I apologize for stepping on your toes if I did. I know you’re attached to the girl and I wanted to help. That’s all.”
The irritation left her as quickly as it had come. “I didn’t mean to snap at you or sound ungrateful. It’s just… I’m not used to this partner thing. Sharing information goes against my grain.”
“You like to be in control. I get it. Just know that when this is over, however things shake out, my boss has agreed to make sure the girl is okay. I’ve already talked to him and he’s got connections. We’ll figure something out, even if it’s off the books.”
“Your boss cares about an eleven-year-old girl caught in the crossfire of a cartel leader and the FBI?”
“Cooper Harris is a lot of things, but he’s not an unfeeling ogre. Hell, he adopted a six-pound Chihuahua because his girlfriend told him to. Trust me, he’s a marshmallow under his tough exterior.”
Nelson eased back in his chair, taking his beer with him. “I convinced Harris that Lexie’s important to you and you’re important to me. He gets it. Hence, you have his support, and Agent Rios’s. She knows more about the CIA and how to manipulate them than everyone on the taskforce combined. If we have to, we’ll use the ledgers or our knowledge of Blue’s crimes as leverage against them to make sure Lexie’s taken care of while they’re using her against Rodrigo.”
Words again defied her. She took a second to digest what he’d just said. I’m important to him.
Important could mean a lot of things, yet… “You did all of that for me?”
His eyes had taken on that lusty edge again. He set the beer on the table, came around to bend down in front of her. His strong hands grabbed the sides of her chair and turned it so she faced him. “I would do anything for you, Sophia.”
She loved it when he used her given name. She was tired of being undercover. Tired of being Maria-Sophia.
Tired of not being herself.
The warmth of his hands on her ankles startled her, sending a jolt of longing up her inner thighs.
The soft cotton of her skirt tickled her skin as he inched the fabric higher and higher, grazing her calves. Cool air swept over her knees as he peeled the fabric back, his palms brushing against her sensitive skin.
“When you’re done with this assignment, are you going home to Los Angeles?” he asked.
She’d been so focused on his hands and the sensations he was setting off in her body, she barely heard the question. “What?”
He was peering at her underwear now on display. “L.A. and San Diego aren’t that far away from each other.”
Was he saying he wanted to see her after this operation was over? “I’ll be in town for a while. Depends on how fast the Bureau and the Justice Department get this through the courts.”
Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on the inside of one of her knees. “And then you’ll be off on another undercover assignment?”
She really didn’t know, and at that moment, she didn’t care. Her voice came out husky, dry. “Why?”
His lips trailed kisses up the inside of her thigh, his warm breath sending goose bumps over her skin. “Would you like to see me again? After this if over?”
He made it to the juncture of her thighs but apparently didn’t like the lack of access. He grabbed her hips, scooting her forward on the chair. Her legs fell open. “For sex, you mean?”
“And other things.” His lips nuzzled her panties. “I’d like to make you dinner one night. Hit a movie. Go bowling, or whatever you like to do when you’re off work.”
She didn’t “do” anything when she was off. A book, a glass of good wine, and a bowl of popcorn were the highlights of any night she stayed home. And then she went to bed early.
Tipping her face down, she watched him lick her through her panties. Under his warm tongue, a shiver started low in her belly and spread. “I’m a thrill seeker,” she lied. “Sky-diving, mountain climbing, white water rafting. You name it.”
His dark eyes rose to hers. “I can keep up.”
Oh, she bet he could. “You’d distract me. Get me killed.”
Eyes never breaking contact with hers, his long, thick fingers moved her panties aside. “More like save your ass.” His hands pushed her legs wider, baring her sex to him. “What do you say?”
