A Baby for Agent Colton

by Jennifer Morey

  “That’s something new.” She smiled. “But what about you? This isn’t helping you solve the Alphabet Killer case.”

  No, it led them off course, took their attention away from it.

  “We’ll keep working until we catch her,” Jocelyn said, seeing Trevor look over with concern. His thoughts had already gone back to the investigation. Caressa’s arrest didn’t get them any closer to catching Regina. But where did his concern come from? An instant later she shouldn’t have had to wonder at all.

  He felt obligated to protect her. Maybe the case warranted that. She put herself in grave danger every time she posed as a mean customer.

  She did appreciate having Trevor there, but she wished he’d appreciate her as a qualified agent. And then she wondered why he even bothered. He should have no trouble treating her like any other agent, after what he’d said to his brother. She couldn’t get past that and didn’t like how hurt she felt. This kind of hurt came from strong feelings for someone. If she didn’t feel strongly for Trevor, what he’d said wouldn’t bother her this much, right?

  She didn’t want to have feelings for him.

  A nagging voice inside contradicted her. Yes, you do.

  “Are you okay, Jocelyn?” Josie asked.

  “Yes. Fine,” she answered stiffly.

  Josie exchanged a look with Trevor, who volunteered no information.

  “You left awfully fast from the barbecue. No one knew where you were.”

  “Something came up.”

  Josie looked from her to Trevor again and then back at Jocelyn. “You didn’t even say goodbye. Trevor was out of his mind with worry. Did you two have a fight?”

  “No.” Jocelyn headed for the door. “We have to get going.”

  “She filed for an annulment because of what she heard me say to Sam,” Trevor finally admitted.

  “What did you say?”

  Jocelyn stopped, annoyed that she cared. “That he wishes he never married me.”

  Josie’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

  “Not like that, but I did express my doubts...because of Matthew.”

  He didn’t have to say much to his sister for her to know exactly what he meant.

  “Someday we’ll look back on all of this and not feel poisoned by that man. Just because our father was evil doesn’t mean we are. And you should never have doubts about the kind of man you are, Trevor.” She put her hand on his arm. “You’re a good, strong, honorable one. That’s going to flow into your family.”

  Jocelyn saw Trevor blink with warmth. Josie had reached him. Too bad Jocelyn didn’t have that magic touch. She left the building without another look back. If only she could keep walking right out of his life. Instead, she had to endure more role-playing. And the impending birth of their child.

  Chapter 13

  Jocelyn wasn’t talking to him much. Trevor entered the apartment after checking the surrounding area for signs of Regina. They’d just gotten back from the fourth restaurant they’d been to in the past several hours, trying to track her down.

  The restaurant they’d staked out was located a few miles from town in the opposite direction from Buckaroo Burgers. It had ended up being another dead end. If Regina had sought work somewhere else, she hadn’t done so at any of the establishments outside town. She may have gone back to previous restaurants she’d haunted, or she may not have sought a job at all.

  While Jocelyn went into the kitchen, he went over to the window and looked down at a quiet street.

  “I hope we haven’t scared her away,” Jocelyn said.

  She may have caught wind of the sting operation, but Trevor didn’t think Regina would give up on going after Jocelyn—or any other woman who reminded her of the one who stole her fiancé.

  He moved to the kitchen island. “You’re finally talking to me.”

  She paused in the act of putting dishes away from the dishwasher. “I haven’t been talking to you?”

  He gave her a moment to answer her own question.

  “I guess I haven’t. A lot on my mind.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She ignored him and put away a glass.

  “You didn’t hear everything I told my brother. You heard my doubt. Who wouldn’t have doubt after getting married the way we did?”

  “We’ve gone over this already.”

  “After I voiced my doubt, I told him how good it was between us.”

  “You mean sex?”

  “That’s part of it, but there’s also something about you. I haven’t figured it out yet. But strangely, I think it’s your desire to have a family, and that you wanted to be a teacher before your dad and brother died.”

  That made her stop working on the dishes. She put her hands down on the counter, her back to him, listening.

  “While it terrifies me, it also warms my heart. It makes me believe there’s a chance for me. Like I might really have a shot at this.”

  Jocelyn turned to face him, moving to the other side of the island, sunlight fading with the day. In the darkening apartment, cottage charm set the mood, or enhanced it. He didn’t fancy himself much of a romantic, but he sure felt it now.

  “You’ve told me something similar before, and I believed you.”

  “You still can.” As he spoke the words, something clashed inside. Fear? Yes, he couldn’t shed his father’s poison, the fear that his DNA contained the same darkness, the inevitable failure as a family man. That was what had him confessing to Sam. Torn between the sparks flying with Jocelyn and the stark reality of his lineage, the latter had gotten the best of him.

  Watching him, she shook her head. “You convinced me you wanted what I want.”

  “I do.” Despite his worry and doubt.

  Her mouth opened and she let out a disgruntled breath. “How can you say that? You also think our marriage was a mistake.”

  “It was. We deserve a real wedding, Jocelyn.”

  He saw her stiffen and heard her indrawn breath. He’d reached her. Abruptly she pivoted. “Stop doing that.” Dishes banged and clanked as she put them away with jerkier motions. “You say you want this—us—but I don’t believe...” She stopped putting dishes away and faced him again, hands gripping the counter behind her. “I don’t feel it, Trevor. I did before, but you had me fooled. Now I see you. I see what your father’s crimes have done to you. And I don’t trust you. I need you to be with me all the way, not halfway. You have to know in your heart that this is for you, that I’m for you. This isn’t just about our baby. This is about love.”

  Damn. She nailed him with that accurate assessment. He didn’t know. He didn’t trust himself. He’d always thought he had everything figured out. Someday he’d make a family. He made a good living as a successful FBI agent. It had meaning. But it also gave him an excuse to delay the family.

  “You would make a great profiler,” he said, trying to keep things light.

  “I mean it, Trevor.”

  He couldn’t persuade her, and the uncertainty of their future left him empty. But he understood. She needed the real thing. And until he could give her that, they’d move nowhere as a couple—a married couple with a baby on the way.

  A pinging sound accompanied something skimming Trevor’s neck. A bullet. Someone had fired through the window.

  “Get down!” Trevor dived over the island and tackled Jocelyn. She grunted from the impact of his body on top of hers.

  Rolling off her, he drew his gun and crouched on his way to the wall beside the window. Jocelyn drew her own gun. He held his hand up for her to stop.

  “Stay there, Jocelyn.” He spoke low as though the shooter would hear him.

  Jocelyn ran to the other side of the window, pistol aimed upward.

  When she
met his look, he admonished her without saying a word.

  She admonished him back with a defiant frown and shake of her head.

  Inching closer to the window, he peered outside. Not many buildings lined the road in this part of town. A gas station on the same side of the street closed at ten. An elderly couple, a family of three and a single man lived in the three houses in the opposite direction and across the street. The shots had to have come from the nearest one.

  He popped his head farther out from the protection of the wall and caught a glimpse of the house, dark except for a streetlight in front of the middle house. He amended his assumption when he saw a figure jump down from a tree almost directly across from the real estate office and run into the shadows.

  “I’m going down.” He ran to the door.

  “I’ve got your back.” Jocelyn ran behind him.

  While he wished she’d let him take care of the dangerous situations, he had no time to argue. The gunman had a pretty good head start and had run toward a neighborhood on the other side of the open space behind the three houses.

  At the front door of the real estate office, he paused to check the street. Seeing no movement near the tree, he left the building, ever aware of Jocelyn’s proximity. A car approached on the road, leaving the well-lit street where the town center began and entering the shadows closer to the real estate office, where none of the lights were on inside or outside.

  Trevor held his hand out to stop Jocelyn. She paused in the doorway. The car passed, the driver not noticing them in the darkness.

  Staying in line with the tree, Trevor crossed the street, holding his gun aimed down for now. Jocelyn followed behind him. He could see lights from the houses across the open space. They’d have to be careful if they had to use their weapons.

  At the tree, he stopped and searched the darkness, moving so that Jocelyn stood closer to the tree. If the shooter took fire, the trunk would block the bullets.

  Had the shooter gone into the open space or toward the three houses? He had no way of knowing and saw nothing through the darkness.

  “She got away,” Jocelyn said.

  “Maybe.” He didn’t like the idea of going back to the apartment without finding the shooter. But neither did he want to take Jocelyn into the dark open space, where the shooter might be waiting to pluck them down one at a time—or him. The shooter had to be Regina, who wouldn’t give up a chance to use her red marker on Jocelyn. But first she had to get rid of him.

  Just then, a car emerged over the hill past the three houses. Where the hill flattened, a side street led to the open space, skirting around that to the neighborhood in the distance. The car slowed as it neared them.

  Trevor grabbed Jocelyn and moved her to the other side of the trunk. The driver aimed a gun through the open passenger window and began firing.

  Trevor fired back, pinning Jocelyn to the trunk. One of the shooter’s bullets struck the bark. Trevor’s hit the rear taillight of the car, an old Honda. He ran after it, reading the plate number and firing twice more.

  Jocelyn appeared at his side, gun raised although she hadn’t taken a shot, watching Regina get away. Trevor dialed the chief and followed Jocelyn back toward the real estate office.

  When the chief answered, Trevor said, “Jocelyn and I were just shot at. Suspect is Regina Willard. I have a plate number.”

  After the chief swore a few times, he said, “All right, give it to me. We have to catch this woman. Maybe the plate number will give us a much needed break.”

  Trevor could not agree more. As he followed Jocelyn through the office and up the stairs to the apartment, he gave him the number, not having much faith it would lead them to the killer. Regina likely had stolen the car. He went on to explain what happened during the shooting. Jocelyn went into the bathroom and came back out with a damp cloth.

  When she began dabbing his neck, he remembered the bullet fired through the apartment window had grazed him.

  After disconnecting the call, he saw Jocelyn spoiling for a fight.

  “You have to stop looking out for me when you should be paying attention to the subject,” she said.

  He had made sure to keep her out of the line of fire and now he would get an earful. He had to make her understand.

  “One of these times, you might slip up, Jocelyn. What if you put yourself in one too many dangerous situations and get yourself into trouble? What if I can’t save you?”

  “That’s your biggest fear? That you won’t be able to save me? I’m an agent, just like you.” She dabbed his wound again.

  He slipped his hand around her wrist and gently took the cloth from her, tossing it across the living room to the kitchen, where it landed in the sink. He wasn’t hurt that badly. “Yeah, but you don’t belong here. You belong at home.” Imagining her at home with their baby tantalized him and he pushed aside his usual reaction to recoil with worry. Instead, he let the fantasy take shape.

  “In a bed,” he said. Vivid picture now. “With me next to you.” He held her around her waist and pulled her to him, pressing his mouth to hers.

  * * *

  Flattened against Trevor’s tall, hard-muscled form, Jocelyn kept her eyes open, having to recover from surprise. She had not expected him to do this. Kiss her. Haul her against him and plant his mouth on hers as though stamping her. He must have thought this would get her to shut up, to stop disagreeing with him and reprimanding him for treating her as though she weren’t trained to handle a gun.

  But as always, the kiss caught fire and mindless passion took over. She didn’t see much point in fighting it. They’d done this before. Except how would she feel if she kept allowing this? Would she fall more in love with him?

  More in love?

  Jocelyn pulled away and stared up at Trevor’s dark, passionate eyes. Did she love him?

  The first day they’d met popped into her head. Her first day on the job, the administrative assistant had taken her to division and introduced her to Trevor. She’d taken her to his office, a glassed-in square with a window view of the city.

  Seated behind his desk, head bent over an open file, he’d struck her as a typical FBI agent. And then he’d looked up.

  Those dark, intense eyes had found her and stayed. He wore his thick black hair short. He’d captured all of her attention. When he rose to stand, she couldn’t breathe. Tall and strapping, physically fit in a silky black suit and dashing tie, he stirred her senses like no other. She hadn’t sought any particular type of man, hadn’t been looking at all. For this one to attract her so incredibly had perplexed her. The only explanation could be the mystery in his eyes and his utter manly yum factor. No woman would be immune to his good looks.

  Agent Jocelyn Locke, this is Agent Trevor Colton, lead profiler and in charge of your division, the assistant had said.

  Jocelyn had felt him stare at her a moment and the assistant had taken notice.

  Thank you, Trevor had said. Come in, Agent Locke.

  Would you like me to close the door? the assistant had asked as she began to leave the office.

  Jocelyn turned away from Trevor as the memory played on in detail, taking her back to a time she hadn’t thought significant until now.

  “Uh,” Trevor stammered, his voice deeper, or had she imagined that? “No. Leave it open.”

  Jocelyn moved farther into the office, unable to look away from his interesting eyes. He seemed afflicted with the same enchantment, this instant attraction, a powerful, buzzing energy that tickled her insides.

  “Welcome,” he said. Yeah, definitely deeper. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you.” Her own voice had gone a little sultry. She caught him giving her a telling up-and-down before she sat and he sat back down with her.

  “So you’re the new rookie,” he said.

  “Top of my cl
ass. You won’t even notice I just started.”

  “Oh, I’ll notice.”

  Warmth flushed her, not mistaking his real meaning. Just when she would have turned up the heat, he cleared his throat and began fidgeting.

  Closing the file, stacking it on top of some others, he said, “I—I’d notice you’re a rookie. Rookies need to be trained. Looked after.”

  He hadn’t meant that. Why the sudden change in him?

  He put his hands on the desk as though willing them to keep still. “You report to me.”

  “Oh.” He worried about propriety. Ethics in the workplace. She could understand that.

  “I take professionalism very seriously. I assure you, you’ll be treated fairly and with respect. We have an outstanding new-hire program. People around here consider me the best to train the new rookies. I agreed to take on that role. Hence, the reason you’ll be working for me. I’m your boss.”

  “Yes. I...got that when your assistant told me.” Boy, this man really kept things on the straight and narrow.

  While disappointment cooled her smoking desire to get to know him better—and not just on the job—she could see he’d made the right decision. Getting involved with her boss wouldn’t be smart. She needed this job. She had personal reasons for needing it, too. She had something to prove. Romance in the office would only interfere.

  “Jocelyn?”

  Trevor’s voice broke her drifting.

  “Are you all right?” He put his hand on her shoulder.

  She faced him, more to get his hand off her and stop the renewed tingles. “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong?” He seemed genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... You need more time.”

  More time? He didn’t get it. “Do you remember when we met the first time?”

  Her question confused him a moment. She saw it in his eyes and the slight flinch of his head.

  “Yes.”

  “You were attracted to me.”

  He half grinned. “I’d have had to be blind not to be.”

  “But then you stopped it. You turned all professional and shut out whatever passed between us.” The more she thought it through, the angrier she got.