by Brynne Asher
I didn’t move but flipped channels as she slept and I stayed longer than I should have. With my hand cupping her ass and her breath whispering across my neck and chest, there was no way I was walking away from that. From her. If she wanted to sleep the weekend away, I’d gladly starve for the experience.
When she started to shift and woke herself, it was hours later. She apologized, blaming her lack of sleep on her shit week. She was rumpled and groggy and if I hadn’t experienced her turned on when we were at the club or her makeup-free the other night, I’d say that was the most beautiful I’d seen her.
I’m learning I prefer her anyway I can get her.
I left without taking her mouth—or anything else, for that matter. There’s still a lot of air between us that needs to be cleared. It sounds like all charges will be dropped soon. The evidence Bree has will never hold up in court.
Then I can make a real move.
That’s why I was more than surprised when I got a text from Flemming to meet here in the back of Jen’s building, that it was all hands-on deck, and told to be prepared to get dirty.
I just pulled up and parked in the maintenance area where everyone is meeting.
Dean shows just after I do and we make our way to the rest of the group. Almost ten of us have been called this morning.
Bree looks around and her eyes settle on me for a moment before she smiles and moves on. “It’s a trash run. Grab a pair of gloves and climb in.”
A trash run? She’s gotta be fucking kidding.
“But this is the trash for the whole building,” Dean clips, making the point I was just thinking. “She’s not dealing drugs. What the hell kind of evidence is she going to have that she’d throw away?”
“And if we find anything, how will we prove it’s hers?” I add.
Bree folds her arms across her chest and shrugs. “If we find anything, there could be proof if it’s hers. Besides, what are the odds anyone else in this building has information on shell corporations. This is one of the last things I can do without a search warrant.”
“Fucking hate trash runs,” Dean complains and walks over to swipe a pair of gloves.
I follow and we climb into the dumpster. The stench is strong, which just goes to prove swanky trash stinks as bad as everyone else’s. I’m glad I listened and dressed to get dirty because this is going to suck.
There are multiple dumpsters and hell if we aren’t going to have to go through them all. This is a stretch and I’m over it. Bree is grasping at straws. Trash runs aren’t done on wire fraud cases, that’s why it’s fucking wire fraud. People are paperless now and smart enough not to print off their own evidence.
After being at it an hour, all I can say is thank God it’s not summer. Trash runs in the summer are the worst. I haven’t experienced a summer in Texas yet, but I’ve heard they’re brutal.
“I think I found something,” Bree yells from the next dumpster. I stand straight, wipe my face with the back of my forearm, barely seeing her head peeking out the top. She’s looking down and when I see a sly smile creep over her face, she adds. “Yeah, I found something all right.”
“Does that mean we’re done?” Dean complains as I jump to the ground. I want to see what she’s got.
Bree flips through a messy stack of papers that are stained with food and other muck and smiles bigger. “Bingo.”
“Please tell me you got what you wanted so we can go,” another agent groans.
“What’d you find?” I keep my voice only semi-interested as I peel my gloves off and stomp my boots on the ground so I don’t track this shit in my car.
“Spreadsheets,” Bree says. “They’re different than the electronic files we seized, but these are definitely hers. Purchase agreements, dates, and amounts. I’m certain I recognize some of these figures.”
What the hell? Jen threw away spreadsheets? “You’re sure it isn’t the electronic files printed off? If it’s the same, it doesn’t mean shit.”
Bree’s eyes come to me before she tips her head and glares. “I’ve been over her files so many times, I would know. This is new information.”
“Lemme see.” Dean plucks it from her hands. I guess no one’s trying to preserve anything for prints. It’s been mangled in the trash, but you never know.
Dean flips through the pages and frowns. “I haven’t seen this before and it has information about Birmingham Refining, but I’d be cautious about calling it evidence. There’s nothing linking it to her.”
“Yet,” Bree pulls it out of his hands and moves to grab an evidence bag. “I need to compare it to the files but it’s still supporting evidence.”
“Her company is purchasing Birmingham, that’s no secret. How is this supporting?” I keep on.
She doesn’t have the chance to answer me when Dean states, “I’m done. I gotta shower and get to my kid’s flag football game. Working on a Saturday is shit. Literally shit when we’ve gotta dig through it.”
Bree ignores me and everyone else, marking what she thinks is evidence. I stand here and watch her work as everyone else makes their way to their cars, happy to be done digging through garbage.
I’ve done lots of trash runs through the years. It’s never fun, but nothing ever goes unturned, not one bag unemptied. We dig our way from one corner to the other of a dumpster. It’s worth it when you find something.
But I guess in Bree’s case, it’s a whole other game when you find what you’re looking for.
She didn’t make sure we were done. We sure didn’t dig to the bottom of the barrel and neither did she.
“Thanks, everyone,” she calls as they leave. “After I clean up, I’ll head into the office and compare this to the other files we found on her computers. See what I can come up with.”
“Let me know if you need any help,” I offer as I walk to my car.
She looks surprised for a mere second before she wipes the look off her face. “Thanks, but I should be good. Enjoy your weekend.”
I lift my head and climb into my car to pull out before she does. Taking a left on the one-way street, I circle around the block and pull into a fire lane. When I see Bree pull out, I give her a couple blocks before I merge into the downtown Dallas steady traffic—busy, even for a Saturday.
I need to learn more about my new co-worker.
*****
I’m headed to the elevators after badging my way into Jen’s building again when something catches my eye. Stopping next to the glass wall that frames the gym on the ground floor, I stare at the woman who seems to be taking over my life, both professionally and personally. She’s in a tank and leggings, her hair is pulled back and, from the looks of it, she’s kickboxing.
I settle in to watch as Jen Montgomery works out with a trainer, alternating between high kicks and undercuts. I don’t know how long she’s been at it, but she’s covered in sweat—her shirt sticking to her and loose strands of hair clinging to her face. After switching sides, she drops her gloves and her trainer, who’s a brute and easily twice her size, steps behind.
I can’t help but frown as he puts his arms around her, grabbing her from behind. Like he’s restraining her.
What the fuck kind of workout is this?
She maneuvers out of his hold, nothing as intricate as tossing him over her shoulder like a bag of potatoes—he probably has over a hundred pounds on her. But she uses pressure points and it gets the job done.
Huh. Self-defense.
Impressive. I bet she could kick some ass if she had to. She’s not just strong but self-confident. The only time she’s let that confidence slip was last night in her condo when I had her alone.
Her trainer starts to go at her again and I can’t help myself. I watched it once but that’s it. I have no desire for him to touch her a second time. Pushing through the glass door, I interrupt just as he was about to grab her from the front this time. “Hey.”
Her trainer steps aside and Jen swipes the hair out of her face, her big brown eyes showing her surprise.
/> “What are you doing here?” Her voice is labored, still trying to catch her breath.
I look at the trainer, but ask her, “You done?”
Her trainer tosses me a look before turning back to his client who, if I can help it, won’t be his client much longer. “You need to stretch and cool down.”
Jen bends to reach for a water bottle off the floor and unscrews the lid. “I’m good, Jase. We still on for Monday?”
Jase?
Fucking Jase.
Jase gives me the same side-eye my mother used to hit me over the head for. “I’ll be here. Text if you decide you want to take in that band tonight. I’ve got an extra ticket.”
Jen gives him an apologetic smile. “Thanks, but maybe another time. It’s been a week.”
It sure fucking has.
It was just seven days ago I was doing surveillance on her at the bar and here I am thinking of all the ways I’d like to kick Jase’s ass. Not to mention, I just put a tracker on a fellow FBI agent’s car to figure out what the fuck is going on with her. Now I need to figure out how to get Jen to agree to my plans for tonight.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” Jase adds as he grabs his bag.
“She prefers staying in.” I cross my arms and move next to Jen. “Don’t you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, I met you in a bar, didn’t I? Or does that count? Maybe our first official meeting was when you showed up at my office unannounced.”
This time I frown. “We met at the bar. That’s all that matters.”
“Do you need me to stay?” Jase asks.
“No—” I start when Jen interrupts, “You can go. Eli and I got off on the wrong foot, that’s all.”
“No, we didn’t,” I argue. “It might’ve been unconventional but we’ve worked through it.”
Jen smirks and, when she bumps my arm with her shoulder, I wonder if this is a new side to her I’ve not seen before. She looks to Jase and doesn’t exactly lie. “He’s a stalker.”
Jase’s forehead crinkles. “What the fuck?”
Jen points to him with her water bottle. “That was my thought, exactly.”
I ignore Jase and look to Jen. “We need to speak. Alone.”
She gives Jase a quick glance before moving toward a bench. “I’m good. See you Monday.”
Her gym-rat trainer finally grabs his stuff and leaves. I cross my arms and stare, but when I don’t say anything, she stands to stretch her arms and shoulders, asking, “What?”
I tip my head. “Why the attitude?”
She raises a brow. “You’re the one who walked in on my workout and got weird with my trainer.”
I look to the side before settling my eyes back on her. “I’ve had a shit day.”
“Yeah?” She wipes her face with a towel and comes to me. “I’ve had a shit week. I win.”
I put my hand at her waist and pull her to me. She puts her hands to my chest and I’m half-surprised after her response she doesn’t try to push me away. “You workout like that all the time?”
“I can barely fit three workouts in a week. If I don’t schedule it with a trainer, I’d never do it.”
I give her a squeeze and run my hand up her back, thinking of all the ways I’d rather be making her sweaty. “Why the self-defense?”
She schools her face in a way that’s practiced, showing zero emotion or fucks given. I bet she’s perfected this look in her job to be taken seriously.
“There’s no reason not to train to be strong and smart at the same time,” she responds.
“You’re already smart enough not to put yourself in a situation where you’d need it. I want to know why you’ve been trained on pressure points, because that’s exactly what I saw.”
She tips her head. “After doing my research, I know you won’t understand this, Mister I took down the mob single-handedly, most people don’t put themselves in a situation where they need self-defense skills. Those situations happen when you least expect it.”
My arms tense around her. “One of those situations happen to you?”
This time she pushes away and, given the subject, I’d be an ass if I didn’t let her go.
Instead of telling me what happened, she picks up her stuff and heads for the door. “What did you want to talk about?”
I follow and open the door before she gets there. “I thought things had cooled down enough for me to take you out, but now I’m thinking we should stay in. How does barbeque sound?”
She pushes the button for the elevator. “Wow. First Tex-Mex and now barbeque? How cliché of you. We do have other food here, too. Greek … Italian … good old Americana. And I can’t go out or stay in. I have plans.”
The elevator doors part and I follow her in, wondering if I missed something. At least I know she’s not going out with Jase the gym-rat. “What plans?”
“I’m going to my parents’ house. My brother, Cam, is getting married next weekend and my sister and I are making sure my mother doesn’t run roughshod all over our sister-in-law-to-be with last minute changes. Cam said he’s holding Ellie and me responsible if our mother pours a drop of melted Velveeta on anything and, when it comes to his fiancée, my brother means business.”
I lean a hand high on the wall where she’s standing and get in her space. “I’ll come with you. We’ll pick up some ribs on the way.”
Her eyes get big and she shakes her head. When the elevator dings, she dips under my arm, making a clean getaway. “No way. I am not bringing you to the ranch. Ever. My parents would eat you alive.”
“Almost got shot point blank last year by a mobster, Jen. I’m not worried about your parents.”
She gets to her door but doesn’t unlock it. Turning, she leans into it and looks up to me. “That’s sweet of you to think I’m worried about you—big, bad, government agent—but I’m not. I’m completely selfish and worried about me. You don’t know my parents. They have three grandkids and one on the way, but they want a brood. My mother talks about the huge family photos she doesn’t get to plan like she’s in mourning. If I bring a man home, I’d have to get a restraining order against her just to live in peace.”
I grin and box her in again. “You’re being rude. I’m new in town and you’re the only person I know outside of work. What happened to southern hospitality?”
“Southern hospitality can go fuck itself when it comes to Montgomery self-preservation. I’m always on the defense when it comes to my mother. And you seem to keep forgetting but I am your work. It’s not like we had some…” she waves her hand around, “…Hallmark-Christmas-made-for-TV sappy first meet. You were investigating me and apparently lost your mind, danced with me, then turned into an asshole before blindsiding me two days later with a search warrant. Now that I think about it, I should bring you to the ranch. My parents would probably hate you.”
Her parents probably would hate me, so I change the subject to why I really came to see her. “Tell me this, do you throw away work documents at home?”
She raises her brows and looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I don’t know how the government works but, in the private sector, we’ve moved to this thing called digital. You should try it and save a tree.”
“Fuck. I’m being serious here.”
“I am, too. That would be a big no. I barely print anything off and I’m certainly not stupid enough to throw anything away with my name on it, let alone work documents. Plus, I’m a freak about recycling.”
I sigh and look to the ceiling—pissed and relieved at the same time.
“What?”
When I look back down into her curious, brown eyes, I shake my head. “What is it about you that makes me do all the wrong things?”
She frowns.
I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t even hesitate. I go on. “Something was found in your trash today. I was surprised. Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to throw shit away at home, or anywhere else for that matter. I know you have a hearing soon and your attorneys ar
e requesting a dismissal, but this could throw a wrench in it.”
I swear, the color drains from her face and, for the second time in the last week, vulnerability bleeds through her like a cancer. “That’s impossible. It can’t be mine, Eli. It can’t.”
“I believe you.”
She brings her hands up to her face and slides them back into her messy hair. “I thought this was going to be over.”
“I’m looking into it.”
She shakes her head and drops her arms. “I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s up to you if you talk to your attorney. You might have to come clean about where you got this information. That’ll out me even though I’m not officially on your case anymore. I’m still telling you things I shouldn’t. I’m used to blurring the lines, but this is more than that.”
“Oh, I’m telling Patrick about this, but I don’t have to tell him where I got the information. He reports to me. I don’t have to tell him anything I don’t want to.”
Impressive.
I change the subject again and smirk. “Now can I come to the ranch with you? I’ll tell your parents I gave you the tip about the dummy corps and the trash run. What’s not to love about me after that?”
She fists my shirt again and her voice goes soft which, ironically, makes my dick go hard. “Maybe some other time. With the wedding stuff and all … and I haven’t spent any time with my sister in a while. We planned on catching up this weekend. I’m staying the night and won’t be back until late tomorrow.”
Dammit. I step closer and press my body against hers. “I want to see you. Outside of all this shit.”
She swallows and the tip of her tongue teases the seam of her lips. “The way things are going, I’m not sure when that will be.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I want to ignore it, but I can’t. When I unlock it, I see that Bree is on the move.
I look back up to Jen. “I’ve gotta go. Take the prepaid cell with you. You’ll be back tomorrow night?”
She leans her head back to look up to me and nods.
I want her mouth.
I want to unlock her door, push her inside, and not let her out.
