by Jacob Chance
“Tell me,” she squeals, pulling me from my journey into the past.
“Okay. Yes, it was Agent Garrison and it was completely embarrassing. He picked me up and carried me to his truck.”
“Aww that’s sweet. Did he bandage you up?” She gestures at my knees.
“Yep.”
“Did he kiss your boo boos?” She slaps her knee, clearly amusing herself.
I roll my eyes. “Nope. But he did ask me out for coffee.”
“What?” she shrieks.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I’m pretty sure he just felt bad for me.”
She casts a skeptical glance my way. “You’re gorgeous and sweet. Of course, he only felt bad for you. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the history between you guys.” She rolls her eyes and then stares at me pointedly.
“What history? My embarrassing schoolgirl crush? I think he was just being polite. I doubt there’s more to it.”
“I bet he thought you’d grown up since the last time he saw you.” She snorts and kicks her heels against the couch cushion.
“Whatever,” I mumble. Leaning my head back, I stare up at the ceiling and picture Nash’s handsome face. I wish it had been daylight, so I could’ve seen if his eyes were the same as I remember. Could they possibly be the same color as whiskey or did my crush make me romanticize everything about him? I guess I’ll know soon enough when I see him at work.
“None of that matters because I said no.”
“Why did you do that? What the hell were you thinking?”
“That I have enough on my plate without adding a guy to the mix.” Especially an FBI agent I’ve never gotten over.
Chapter Eleven
Nash
“I worry about you.”
“Ma, there’s nothing to worry about. Don’t create problems where they don’t exist.”
“I know it’s been a long time, but I’ll never forget how horrible it was when you got shot. I never want to go through that again. Your job’s dangerous, and I wonder each day if you’re safe.”
“I know you do, but I’m careful.”
“Yes, you are,” she pauses and nods, before taking the seat across from me at the small kitchen table. “I know you’re good at your job and you love it, but that doesn’t make me worry any less.”
“What can I do to help you?”
“If you wanted to find a desk job, that would work,” she jests, patting my forearm with her hand. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I want you to be happy, I just wish you’d be happy with a safer job.”
“Mom, I’ll be careful as always. Stop worrying and focus on something else.”
She tips her head to the side, scrutinizing my facial features. “I want grandchildren you know?”
“Ma, really? This is where you want to take this conversation?”
“Your father and I aren’t getting any younger. Whatever happened to that blond you brought to your cousin’s wedding?”
“Darcy? She’s just a friend from work.”
“Have you asked her out since the wedding?”
“No. I’m not interested in going out with her. We’re just friends. Can we talk about something else please? How about the Pats? They look great this season.”
“I know, I know. I’m being invasive, but how would I know any of this if I don’t ask. You never tell me anything.”
“Ma, being an FBI Agent for the last twelve years hasn’t really been conducive to having deep discussions and sharing personal details.”
“I’m not naive about what your life is like, but you still need a special someone. It’s time for you to open yourself up to meeting new people and trying different things.”
My mind instantly flashes back to last night. Zoe. I wish she’d accepted my invitation for coffee. She was even more stunning than I remembered. It’s been a while since a woman has held my interest for more than sex.
“I’m thirty-four, not eighteen. I’m a grown man capable of making informed decisions about what’s best for me. I know you love me and worry, but you need to let this go.” I shake my head as I rise to my feet.
“Okay, but if you need to talk, I’m here. I’ll tell dad you stopped by.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” Leaning down I kiss her cheek. “Stop worrying.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s like asking me not to breathe.”
“Where were you last night? I thought we were shooting some hoops?” My friend Martin asks as I slip onto the vacant bar stool next to his at Patriot Blue, our favorite pub.
“I went to the park to get a quick run in and got held up.”
“Dude it’s a Friday night. Why are you running?”
My eyes flick in his direction. “You know I run no matter what.”
“Then what happened?”
“There was a girl running on the path in front of me and I think I spooked her. She tripped and hurt herself and I had to help.” I purposely leave out the details of who it was.
“I get it.” He nods and smirks. “She was hot, right? You just had to help.”
“She was very attractive, but that’s not why.”
“Sure.” He raises his draft to his lips, taking a deep pull.
“Fuck off. You know I’d assist anyone in that situation.”
“Well, did you ask her out?”
I chuckle. “I did, actually. She turned me down though.”
“Did you get her number?”
“No, but she called her roommate from my phone, so I do have a way of getting in touch with her if I want to.”
“That might seem kind of desperate, dude. If she wanted to talk to you again she would have said yes when you asked her out.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. “Yeah.” I shrug my shoulders. “No big deal.” Raising my hand, I call the bartender over and order a Sam Adams.
“Speaking of hot women, do you remember that girl, Zoe Thomas? Both of her parents were agents and were killed by Marius Popov’s crew six years ago and you worked the case?” Martin and I have been coworkers for a while now. He’s privy to the same information I am.
“Yeah, of course I do. I got shot twice and stabbed, asshole. Did you really think I’d forget?” Fuck. Where’s he going with this?
“Come on, I’m just fucking with you. I knew you remembered, although you are getting older.” He smirks. “Anyway, I digress, she’s working at the Bureau now. And she’s easy on the eyes, dude.”
“Really?”
“I’m thinking of asking her out.”
“No fucking way.”
“What?”
“Don’t even think about asking her out.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s way too good for you and she deserves someone who’ll appreciate her. She’s more than just a hot piece of ass.”
“She can always say no.” He smirks, and I want to punch him in his fucking face.
“Martin, stay the fuck away.” After seeing Zoe last night, I realize I’ve never really gotten over her. She was so young back then. We never had a chance, but now we could. I’m not gonna let someone else swoop in and steal my shot. No fucking way.
A floral scent whispers on the air like a feather caught in a gentle breeze, tickling my nose with a sweet familiarity. Zoe. My gaze skims across the sidewalk from one edge to the next, locking on the petite brunette only a few feet away. She pays no mind to the people around her as her dark curls billow wildly around her head in the generous wind. With eyes lowered to her phone, she continues along, ignoring the other pedestrians. Each step closer has my heart hammering inside my chest.
Look up. Look up. I silently shout in my mind. I’m not sure why I’m so overwhelmed with the desire to see her eyes in the daylight. Clenching and unclenching my fists with impatience, I want to see the familiar blue. I already know they’re surrounded by thick dark lashes that make crescent shaped moons on the top of her cheeks as she focuses on her phone.
I’m not prepared for the
moment she glances up. Though only a quick sweeping gaze, I notice the sky color of her irises. When our eyes meet for a moment my chest inexplicably tightens as if she’s laid her hands on my heart, squeezing tightly with her small fist. I’ve never experienced anything like this strange phenomenon and it shakes me. I’m not someone who gets emotional or attached. My chosen career has taught me to turn my feelings on and off like the flip of a simple switch. I’m an expert at compartmentalizing my thoughts and I don’t have time for regrets, but I do have regrets when it comes to her.
Zoe passes on by without losing a step. Didn’t she recognize me?
Don’t let her disappear. The thought strikes me, and my feet abruptly halt their forward progress. I run a shaking hand over my perspiration covered brow as disgruntled pedestrians angrily mutter under their breath, navigating around my still form.
What’s wrong with me?
Follow her. Don’t let her slip away. The words repeatedly flash through my mind like a strobe light.
Pivoting, I head down the pitted sidewalk in the same direction as Zoe. My eyes hungrily search for her petite frame in the thick crowd of pedestrians. Hurrying my stride, I breathe deeply until I catch a whisper of her sweet scent on the breeze. It’s the same perfume she was wearing at the park. It temptingly clung to my shirt for the rest of the night, a constant reminder of how good she felt in my arms and how kissable her full lips are. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it now or if I’m really smelling her perfume, but it doesn’t matter because...there she is.
Exhaling a large sigh, my lips ease into a relieved smile. Continuing along, I follow her all the way to a popular cafe. Her hand closes around the door handle and my stomach sinks with disappointment.
“Zoe, wait up,” a tall blonde girl calls out. She turns and leans back preventing the door from closing until they pass through it together. I watch until she’s out of sight.
“Zoe,” I whisper her name and grin. I can’t believe this is the second time I’ve seen her in three days and tomorrow we’re back at work. It’s about time some good fortune came my way. Since seeing her at the park I've been questioning why I didn’t reach out to her after I got released from the hospital. At that point my job protecting her was over and it was no longer a conflict of interest, but I was too busy trying to be selfless.
None of the mistakes of the past matter now that she’s back in my life. Adjusting the baseball cap on my head, I turn back toward the parking garage my car is in, whistling a lively Irish tune.
Chapter Twelve
Zoe
Staring down at the papers scattered across the top of my desk, I focus on finding the missing connection between them all. Elbows braced on the wood, my head rests in my hands as my eyes endlessly scan over the outline I’ve compiled. There’s something I’m not seeing, some small detail I need. Popov disappeared six years ago, and no one has seen or heard from him since. He vanished into thin air and many assume he’s dead, but I don’t believe that. I’d have to see proof of his death to believe he’s gone. Nothing less will suffice.
“Where’d you go, you bastard?” I mutter under my breath, frowning.
“Zoe.” My head raises, and I find Karyn standing next to my desk. She flashes me a quick smile and frowns when she notices what I’m working on. “Are you talking to yourself again?” She has a habit of catching me in embarrassing situations.
“Busted again.” My cheeks flush pink. “I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Isn’t talking to yourself a sign of being crazy?”
“You work for the FBI and that alone is definitely a sign of being crazy,” Nash adds, stepping forward and my eyes grow wide. In my embarrassment, I didn’t even notice him standing behind Karyn. I’m not sure how I missed his six-foot two presence and broad shoulders. My eyes greedily peruse every inch of him, like a coyote looking at its next meal in the dead of winter.
“Nash, I know you remember Zoe.”
“Of course I do.” Teeth raking over his bottom lip, he thoughtfully studies my face.
“You better.” Karyn smirks and raises a brow. “It’s hard to forget the first time you get shot.”
He chuckles. “Or the second.” He shakes his head as if it was a minor inconvenience to be shot and not a life-threatening situation. “Zoe and I ran into each other at the park a few nights ago.” His lips quirk, teasing at a smile.
“Yes, we did. Nash is quite good at first aid. He helped me out when I took a tumble.”
Karyn pats Nash on the shoulder. “Good man. Way to come to the aid of a damsel in distress.”
I snort, unattractively. “Damsel huh? I don’t know about that.”
Nash shrugs his broad shoulders. “Just being a good Samaritan.”
Karyn glances at her wristwatch. “Nash, why don’t you take Zoe to lunch. You guys can get caught up and you’ll be able to answer any questions she might have.”
He nods. “I can do that. In fact, I know just the place to take her.” He winks at me.
My stomach pitches like I’m free falling through space. It’s pathetic - I’m flustered from one stupid wink.
“Oh...I...uh. I’ve got…” I gesture at the papers on my desk, struggling for an excuse not to go. “I think your boss will cut you some slack.” Karyn pats me on the arm. “Whatever you’re working on can wait.” There’s a message in her tone and I hear it loud and clear. “I’ll catch you both later.”
Silently, I watch as Karyn strolls away, leaving me alone with Nash. Crap. I can’t really ignore an order from my boss, now can I? Especially when she busted me for researching Popov for the second time. Unfortunately, being attracted to someone you haven’t seen in six years doesn’t qualify as a reason not to go.
I log out of my computer and rise to my feet, shoving my cell phone into the front pocket on my black pants.
Nash grabs my blazer from the back of my chair and holds it open. Once I’ve slipped each arm into the sleeves, he gently gathers my hair in his large hands. Removing the mass from underneath my collar, he releases it to fall straight to my shoulders. His fingers brush the back of my neck sending hot tingles down my spine. I clench my teeth and force myself to remain still. I won’t allow him to see the effect he still has on me. Grabbing my purse, I turn to face him. “I’m ready if you are.” My words are a mirage of bravado I’m not feeling.
Riding in an elevator with others is never enjoyable but doing so with Nash Garrison standing so close behind me, his warm breath fanning against my cheek with every exhale, is beyond torture. The back of my body burns white hot from his nearness, as if I might erupt into flames at any moment. By the time the doors open on the first floor I’m ready to bolt from the steel cage, only Nash places his hand on my arm, waylaying my escape. Once the handful of our coworkers have exited we step onto the gleaming floors of the lobby and head toward the exit. We both raise our hands acknowledging the guards manning the security check for those entering the building. This is the Boston FBI Headquarters, and all safety protocols are followed closely.
The unusually cool air whips around my face chilling the tip of my nose as we move down the sidewalk. It feels more like March than May and I’m thankful I had the foresight to slip on my blazer before we left.
“We’re just going a few more doors down,” Nash explains. Somehow, he manages to look perfectly comfortable in only a light blue dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up to mid forearm.
The sun breaks free from the clouds as we come upon a sandwich shop with a few tables and chairs set up outside. As we get further into the month of May, those will soon be filled with customers enjoying the warmer spring days, before the humidity of summer hits.
“This is it.” He gestures. “Have you been here before?” Tugging the door open, he waits for me to step inside, before placing his hand on my back as he follows.
“No, I haven’t. What’s good?”
“Everything, but I always get the steak and cheese.”
Various flavorful aromas hit me as I st
ep inside the brightly painted space. Between the smell of the delicious food and the sunny yellow on the walls, it’s a full-blown assault on my senses. My mouth is practically salivating, and I can’t wait to try the food.
Once we’ve ordered, we find a booth off to the side where we can talk without others overhearing. My lips close around the straw on my soda and I drink down a deep pull. The bubbles pleasantly tickle my throat as I swallow the cold beverage.
Nash locks his golden eyes on me full force. “Tell me what you’ve been up to for the past six years.”
“That’s a pretty broad question or should I say demand?” I raise a brow at him.
He smirks. “Sorry. Sometimes my conversational skills get lost in the shuffle between work mode and personal mode.”
“I understand. I’m sure I’ll be in a similar predicament any day now.”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table between us. “Where did you go right after the trial?”
“To stay with my grandmother in Maine. I got a job in a local bookstore, took a couple of online classes and spent just under six months there.”
“What did you do after that?”
“I went to Boston University as planned. Fortunately, I was able to keep my scholarship.”
“Did you enjoy college?”
“I did. It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun. I had a great roommate who helped make the late transition into freshman year much easier.”
“Natasha? Your roommate?”
I nod slightly. “You remember her name.”
“Come on, did you doubt I would? I’m a great listener.”
“Goes with the territory of being an agent, I guess.”
“That’s not the only reason.” His eyes sweep over to where the food is being prepared, before returning to lock on mine with an intensity so sizzling, I’m surprised I don’t hear a hiss or see steam rising between us. “I remember everything about you.”
