by Kadie Scott
…
Drew took another swig of his beer and pretended to watch the baseball game on the TV over the bar. Max had dragged him to their favorite Irish pub—all mahogany wood, a hundred beers on tap, and sports on every TV—for a few hours on a Saturday night. He’d insisted Drew needed to get out of his head before he went out of his mind.
He’d been working flat out trying to find something, anything, to close this damn case and escape his own personal hell. Being around Cassie without allowing himself to stare, or tease, or touch, was damn near killing him. If this went on much longer, the FBI would find his cold, lifeless body in his apartment, and the coroner’s report would cite an excessive buildup of sexual tension in the cells as the cause of death.
She, in the meantime, didn’t seem the least bothered by their status quo.
“What’s your problem, Kerrigan?” Max drawled, neatly stacking the coasters, flipping one over so that the same side was facing up on all of them.
Drew raised a single eyebrow. His friend’s OCD was showing.
“Shut up.”
“Didn’t say anything,” Drew replied.
Max wasn’t to be sidetracked from his earlier question, though. “You’ve been about as fun as a sandy towel at the beach. I’m used to you not speaking much, but if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re in need of some mind-blowing sex.”
Drew’s dick agreed as a crystal-clear image of sliding in and out of Cassie’s gorgeous body assailed him. Unfortunately, banging his head on the bar in an attempt to rid himself of said images would only make Max more suspicious. “I’m not,” the words came out as a growl.
“No?” Max challenged.
Unwilling to argue, Drew shrugged and swung his gaze back to the game. Not that he’d paid enough attention to even know the score, but what the hell.
“I told you getting close to your assignment was a bad idea.”
Damn Max and the computer he carried around instead of a brain. He was almost as bad as Cassie in the hit-the-head-on-the-nail analysis of others. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“When my buddy starts acting like a bug crawled up his ass, I have to step in. It’s just the kind of guy I am.” Max slapped him on the back just as he was taking a swig of beer, and Drew came up spluttering.
In retaliation, Drew scoured his brain for a diversion and landed on a topic guaranteed to distract. “Has your mom found you a wife yet?”
Max’s expression snapped from grinning to pissed in less time than it took him to trace laundered money to the source. “Low blow, man. Why’d you have to take it there?”
Max’s mama was as Italian as they came, and, in her opinion, a man wasn’t happy until he had a wife. She and the rest of his family—the female side at least, all the aunts, sisters, and cousins in his extensive lineage—were constantly hounding Max to find someone and settle down, and frequently attempting to set him up.
Drew tipped back his beer, then shrugged. “I figured while we were getting all personal…”
“So, this Cassie woman is personal now? I thought you were keeping things friendly.”
Damn. Give the man a bone to pick, and he’d obsessively gnaw at it. “Things are friendly.” Too damn friendly, and not remotely close to friendly enough.
They’d kept things focused on work, and no more spontaneous kissing had occurred, other than in the X-rated fantasies that woke him every night with a raging hard-on. Beyond the regular squabbles over methods and analysis—moments he lived for because he loved how her mind worked, how they complemented and bounced off each other—they’d kept their interactions above board and ship shape. Hell, their ship was in such pristine shape, you could practically lick your dinner off the deck.
Lick.
Drew held back a groan and slammed his eyes shut as images of licking his way up Cassie’s body teased him with possibility. He may have done his best to stop tossing out phrases which made her pause, but he still thought them, and his mind had been storing them up and filing them away. These days, practically every word spoken held some connotation for him that was on the wrong end of the spectrum.
Meanwhile his op was going fucking nowhere. Between this thing with Cassie and the lack of progress, no way was he going to be allowed undercover again—
“Things going well with the investigation?”
When did Max become clairvoyant? “I’m not getting any further than before I went undercover.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t find anything in their financials that could help.”
Drew shrugged. He hadn’t expected much, but he’d wanted to be thorough. He fiddled with the damp bar napkin. “I know something is off there.”
He was also becoming more and more convinced Cassie was not his perp. He just had to prove it.
“I think she’s innocent,” he blurted.
Max pulled his gaze from the game. “Cassie?”
Drew nodded.
Max took a long drought of his beer while considering the situation. “Let me ask you this. Do you like this girl?”
Drew cleared his throat. “I like her.” Maybe more than like, but he couldn’t let himself explore that possibility.
“As in, you got too close.”
Not close enough. “Yeah.”
“Then I’d say you’re fucked, my friend. Classic conflict of interest, and it will skew your investigation. My advice is to remove yourself from the case, and don’t contact her again until it’s over, assuming she’s proven innocent at that point.”
Drew had already considered that option. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“If they assign someone else the case, I can’t trust them to look past the initial evidence we collected.”
“Can you look past your attraction?”
“I’ll have to.”
Max raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I’ll make sure my team checks every conclusion. If they disagree, then I’ll go with their conclusions. But if she is innocent, I need to prove that.”
Finally, Max nodded. “If I’d trust anyone to do the right thing, it’s you.”
Which only made Drew feel worse. Why’d he bring this up anyway? Max had only told him everything he’d already told himself.
Right. Drew caught the bartender’s eye and signaled for the check.
Max scowled. “Where’re you going?”
“Home.”
“The game’s not over.” He waved at the screen.
“Text me the score. I’m not in the mood.”
He tossed a couple bills on the bar, stuffed his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans, and headed for the door without a good-bye. Max was used to him. No need to smile and respond with an old friend.
“You know you’re a real thrill to be around lately, Kerrigan,” Max called after him. “Get your shit together.”
He intended to. But first he had a case to solve.
Chapter Eight
Blah, blah, blah was what Cassie absorbed as Drew stood at the front of the room. A full wall of the latest technology in screens displayed his presentation behind him. He was saying real words. Important words. “…based on those findings, we recommend you…”
But she only listened with half an ear as he presented to the Malhurst execs. This was his account primarily, but Kevin insisted she attend. It appeared her reputation and name were becoming well known enough among their clientele that he deemed her presence necessary, despite not having much to do with the analysis.
Giving up a little control and letting Drew take over projects felt…good.
Drew didn’t need her help. He had a commanding presence, an excellent speaking voice, and his analysis and recommendations were spot on. His gaze swept the room, and she could practically hear his brain ticking over as he assessed the response to his presentation real time, adjusting to the input and tweaking his spiel as he went. But he didn’t look at her. Those blue eyes passed over the spot where she sat like she was a hol
e in the water.
He’s avoiding eye contact.
For a brief, crazy moment, she considered removing one of the pencils from her hair and chucking it at his head. But rejected the move as childish and unprofessional.
A week after that scorching kiss and suddenly he could hardly take the time to ask for a quick opinion. He’d managed to find excuses not to be alone with her. No more hours together in one or the other of their cubes.
Why? They could keep their hands off if they wanted.
Be honest, the little voice inside her head insisted. The one that all too often sounded like her mother.
Okay, so maybe they couldn’t keep their hands off. Maybe touching Drew was a temptation—a stirring, heart-tripping temptation—and one she couldn’t resist. Correction, one she hadn’t been able to resist yet. She’d thought about their kiss in the server room more often than was decent. Or conducive to work, sleep, or the price of beans.
He’d caught her staring sometimes, but then, she’d caught him doing the same, with a look that sent heat to every corner of her body.
“That’s exactly what we were looking for, Drew,” the CEO from Malhurst said, interrupting Cassie’s meandering thoughts. “I think your recommendations fit perfectly with the business plan we’ve been working on for our ten-year plan.”
Cassie smiled, a little glow of—what, pride?—in his achievements warming her.
No, she corrected. Not pride in him, pride in their company. Pride in Drew indicated a connection that didn’t exist. One where she got to be proud of him and call him things like hers. She might be over her initial anger and anxiety at his being hired, and she might be hot for the guy, but that didn’t mean she trusted—
“Thanks, John. I can’t take all the credit. Without Marnie’s diagnostic work, I wouldn’t have seen the connection with your Sunshine line and the gap in the market which presents you with that unique opportunity.” Drew pointed to Marnie whose cheeks pinkened as she nodded her thanks for his acknowledgment.
Every cell inside Cassie froze. Had Drew just shared the credit? With a woman? Cassie bit her lip and tried not to sink to the carpet in a highly impressed, overemotional, and strangely turned-on puddle. The cleaning crew would never forgive her.
Still, she hung back as the room emptied. Kevin walked the Malhurst execs out while Drew gathered up his things. She made her way up to where he had his back turned toward her, and cleared her throat.
Drew jumped before he turned, gaze wary in a way that hurt in a spot just under the left side of her ribs. What’d he think? That she was going to jump him right there and demand sex?
Wait? Did I say that one out loud?
It was certainly something that would usually bypass the broken filter. Cassie paused and waited to see if he showed any reaction, relaxing only when he continued to stare at her, unspeaking.
“Great presentation,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She wanted to say more, but, for once in her overtalkative life, she couldn’t find the right words. So, instead, she stepped into him. Drew stiffened as she placed a hand on his chest, went up on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek.
The man could’ve been hewn from cut glass, he was so still and tense. Disappointment settled over her like a blanket woven out of lead. Message received. She forced a little smile that she hoped appeared the opposite of how she felt. “That’s for sharing the credit with Marnie. Not many in our industry do.”
Not a word, a blink, or a muscle twitch in response.
So she walked away.
…
It took Cassie all of five steps away from him for Drew to move.
He was crossing a dangerous line, or on a slippery slope, or whatever other cliché you wanted to throw at the situation. He could’ve held on. After a week of ignoring every instinct he had that screamed at him to spend time with Cassie, get to know her better, and—hell, yes—kiss her a lot more, he’d thought he could make it through the investigation. After everything was over, then he could approach her.
But no way could he watch her walk away after every spark of hope in her stunning eyes had died. Stealing candy from a baby while kicking puppies and burning a hole in the ozone layer couldn’t even feel this horrible.
“Cassie.” Her name tumbled off his lips even before he’d made a final decision, or maybe his heart made it for him. No brain required.
She glanced over her shoulder, her hand on the doorknob, and raised her eyebrows.
Words failed sometimes.
Instead, Drew stalked across the room, enjoying how her eyes widened with every purposeful step he took. She turned to face him fully just as he invaded her space. Drew stepped close enough to feel her heat, relishing the faint gasp that parted her lips. He leaned into her, hand on the door behind her to ensure it stayed closed.
He gazed down into bright blue-green eyes, where a wary spark of hope had ignited, and scoured his brain for a smooth, suck-the-breath-out-of-her-lungs, thing to say. Inspiration struck and he smiled even as he spoke the words. “I’d like to unzip your files.”
She froze and blinked up at him so long Drew started to worry she didn’t get it. They hadn’t had any word play all week. Well, she’d tried, and he’d ignored. But this one was out of context, right out of the blue. Maybe…
Cassie burst out laughing, deep belly laughs that he couldn’t resist chuckling along with, even though he wasn’t quite sure yet if she was laughing at him or with him.
“That has to be the nerdiest pickup line in history.”
Drew grinned back like a moron, and relief whooshed through him as two things became evident. First, she got it. Second, she seemed receptive given the big smile and sparkly eyes, along with the fact that she wasn’t running away screaming.
“Did it work?”
They both sobered. Longing swept away any urge to laugh, and Drew swam through those eyes of hers. His body tightened in anticipation. Their breath mingled as he dipped his head, unable to wait a second longer to taste her lips again.
“Drew, are you still in here?”
Kevin’s attempt to open the door stopped short when it bumped up against Drew’s hand and Cassie’s backside.
In sync, he and Cassie jumped and moved out of the way. He wasn’t sure about her, but he was also working on suppressing every ounce of the sexual tension that hummed between them like a guitar string.
Kevin stuck his head inside the door. “Oh, there you are.” If he noticed anything odd, he didn’t give it away, thank God. “I wanted to tell you…the Malhurst people were impressed, and they want to hire Data Minds for another five projects.”
Smile you idiot. Only he couldn’t make his face do it because he was still in the moment with the woman beside him. “Sounds good,” he settled for.
Kevin glanced at Cassie who shrugged. “Well, go gather up your stuff. We’re taking anyone in the office that can make it out for celebratory drinks. First round is on the company.”
“We’re leaving right now?” Cassie asked, a squeak to her voice.
Was she thinking the same thing as him? Something along the lines of, damn it all to hell and back up again. They exchanged a swift glance, and he’d guess she was using some other term, given her use of the most unusual swear words he’d come across, but the same general sentiment.
Kevin waited expectantly, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents, and obviously assuming they’d want to jump on this fabulous plan right away.
Like being swept up in a riptide, Drew and Cassie followed their boss out of the conference room and got busy shutting down for the day. Kevin couldn’t have picked a local bar. No, he picked the hottest bar in town, smack dab in the middle of the busiest restaurant district. They’d have to take a cab and hope they didn’t get stuck in traffic.
“I think the universe is against me,” Cassie muttered in the elevator.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It had a meeting about both of us.”
Standing on the sidewalk
outside, Drew counted heads, then grabbed Cassie’s arm and scooted them back to be amongst the last to leave. If his calculations were correct…
“No more room you two,” Marnie said as she stuffed herself into the cab with two other Data Minds employees.
“We’ll get the next one,” Drew said.
Less than a minute later they were strapping into the back of a taxi. “Hudson and 10th,” Drew instructed the driver.
He and Cassie sat in palpable silence for a block.
She took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll just have to wait—”
Drew turned and took her face between his hands, knocking her glasses wonky. Not that either of them really noticed with his mouth over hers, swallowing her words before she could finish speaking. Then she licked his lower lip with the tip of her tongue and it was all over.
Vaguely, he heard the cabbie mutter something like, “Awesome.”
Nothing could’ve stopped them. If her seat belt would’ve allowed her to crawl onto his lap, he would’ve had her there in a heartbeat, rubbing against the part of him that ached and strained for her with every sweep of their tongues, every press of their lips, every sexy little sigh or moan that escaped her throat.
“Is the corner good?”
Drew distantly registered the cabbie’s question, the fact that the car had stopped moving, and their position at the curb, surrounded by streams of pedestrians and unending traffic. He blinked, staring down at Cassie. He’d been 100 percent focused on the woman in his arms and the sexual haze that had taken over his body and mind.
Suddenly the door swung open behind her. “Cassandra Elaine Howard,” a woman’s voice exclaimed on a gasp.
He and Cassie sprang apart, sucking in air while they adjusted to the fact that they’d arrived, and someone recognized her.
Cassie buried her face in his shirt. “Oh my God,” she muttered.
“Are you…making out in the back of a cab?”
“Who is she?” he asked.
Cassie lifted her gaze to his, her body shaking with suppressed laughter. “My mom,” she half-whispered, half-groaned.
He didn’t say anything, but his expression must’ve said it all, because she snorted a laugh.
