Got it Bad

by Christi Barth

  “Yes, about the appointment about the new marshal in charge of the Illinois Northern District.” Whoever it was could affect her promotion. It was driving her crazy not being back there for the announcement.

  Kellan arched one eyebrow in utter dismissal. “Basically, it’s a string of suppositions.”

  It annoyed her just how right Kellan was. Years of jumping onto every email, staying up-to-date on every ongoing investigation rather than just her own had turned into Delaney’s single focus. Em not-so-jokingly called work her only hobby. That un-joke usually occurred during the quarterly lectures about how all work and no play made for boring texts with her BFF.

  Delaney had sent her a photo of the gym at the FBI headquarters in DC, full of sweaty six-packed agents working out (with their permission, of course) when she’d been there for a training session. It had shut down the “boring” lectures for months.

  She dug the toe of her sneaker into the wooden decking. “You’re really pulling the big guns of lawyerly logic on me?”

  “Yes. Because you deserve a break. You deserve to loosen up and have some fun.” Kellan scooted her over a few steps in front of the giant statue of cavorting sea lions. Then he threw an arm around her neck and snapped a picture of them. “Proof for later of your day of fun.”

  Delaney peered at the photo. Her hair was windblown, Kellan’s lips were smacked onto her cheek, and her mouth was caught in a wide-open laugh. They looked carefree. Happy.

  When was the last time she’d looked so happy in a picture?

  When was the last time she’d even snapped a selfie? There’d been that awful haircut back in New Mexico in February. She’d sent Em a picture to get input on whether or not she needed to buy a cowboy hat to hide under until it grew out.

  Defensively, she muttered, “Target practice can be fun.”

  “Today will be more fun. I promise.” He stashed her phone in his own pocket and took her hands. “I swear I get it. I was on law review my second year at Northwestern. It was practically a full-time job on top of the already grueling schedule of law school. We’re both people who go nose to the grindstone to get results.”

  “It’s all I’ve ever done,” she confessed. “Let’s just say the gender split of the Marshals Service isn’t anywhere close to fifty/fifty. I always knew I’d need to work harder than everyone to stay on top, to get hired first, promoted first. I’m only twenty-eight, Kellan. Nobody else who started when I did is in on something as big as this McGinty sting. My supervisors saw my efforts and took a chance on me. That’s why I can’t let up.”

  “Like I said, I get it. But I’ve also seen people burn out. Big-time. Everything from pill-popping to booze to attempted suicide. I’m not saying those things are in your future. But I am saying that if you don’t balance your life with a little fun, a little brain R&R, then your work will ultimately suffer. It’s like pulling three all-nighters with no naps. You get things done, sure. You also start getting sloppy and stupid.”

  Maybe it was that Kellan wasn’t lecturing, like Em did. Or because she knew that he completely empathized.

  Either way, his words got through to her and Delaney let go of her guilt about taking a day wholly for herself. She could almost feel it lift off her shoulders and float up into the cloudless June sky.

  Then she turned to look down the coastline behind them. The ocean was the flat blue of an old pair of jeans. White streaks of surf diagonally met the strip of golden sand. Enormous rocks marched in long rows up to the highway, and then the forest beyond.

  “I need my phone back.”

  With a snort, Kellan said, “Fat chance.”

  Grabbing his shoulders, she turned him and pointed at the vista. “This is a postcard-esque view. I want to use it as my screensaver. I won’t even open email—just the camera.”

  “It’ll cost you. Another throw-caution-to-the-wind moment. To be used at my discretion.”

  However unlikely, Delaney felt a flutter of anticipation at how Kellan might call it in. “Deal.” She snapped at least five photos. Then fired one off with a quick text to Em.

  #dayoff shenanigans. Try not to faint in shock.

  It actually felt good to hand her phone to Kellan for safekeeping. It removed all temptation. Kellan taking charge of the day freed her in such a liberating way. Delaney even swung their clasped hands as they strolled down the weathered boards to a small building. This was already fun.

  Fun was good. Fun made it worth her while to . . . well, she wouldn’t say break. No, she was bending the rules. Breaking them would be falling in love with him.

  Delaney had zero intention of going down that road.

  Kellan sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you claustrophobic?”

  “No. Is this the part of the date where we ask each other weirdly random questions? Like, um, do you know how to fence?”

  “No, it isn’t. And yes, as a matter of fact, I do know my way around a sword.”

  “I was totally kidding. That’s crazy.” Her laughter died almost instantly as Delaney pictured Kellan in one of those puffy shirts from the Renaissance, tight breeches, and a blue velvet cape. Basically a musketeer. God, he’d look hot, wielding a sword. Wouldn’t it be fun to see him in that on Halloween?

  Not that she’d still be seeing him by then. That’s what made it more, ah, acceptable to her strict ethical code to bend the rules. Or so she’d told herself in endless rationalizations over this crazy half plan to date him.

  Half plan only, since they had no plan for what to do long-term. The trial would no doubt be over by Halloween. She’d be assigned to a different case, and they’d probably never communicate again.

  So much for feeling lighthearted.

  Kellan led her into the building and straight to a small crowd at the elevator. “We’re headed down to a sea cave. It’s the largest one in America, but still a cave. I needed to be sure you’d be okay down there.”

  They packed into the elevator with at least three too many other people. While not claustrophobic, Delaney didn’t want to be squished into suffocation, either. The elevator showed feet instead of floors, bottoming out at two hundred. And it moved slowly. “Why on earth do you know how to fence?”

  “I did plays in high school. Including Romeo and Juliet. My counselor, knowing I’d do everything and anything to give me a leg up on the competition for law school, told me that honing my dramatic skills would bolster my public speaking confidence and delivery.”

  Talk about an unexpected nugget of information. “Did it work?”

  Kellan raised his hand, stopping with his fingers almost touching her lips. His gaze fixed there, too, and his voice was low, with just a tinge of a British accent.

  “If I profane with my unworthiest hand

  This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

  My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

  To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

  He finished with the lightest brush possible of his thumb, tracing the contours of her mouth.

  Talk about sexy. Talk about panty-melting. Talk about romance personified.

  Nobody had ever quoted Shakespeare to Delaney before. It was powerful stuff. Almost as powerful as the need and lust burning in Kellan’s eyes like a blue fire.

  This was why she was risking so much to be with him. Risking her self-respect, her career, and the series of thick, steel barriers around her heart.

  Kellan surprised her. Delighted her. Charmed her. Challenged her.

  He was everything she didn’t know she needed.

  The doors opened with a ding. Thank goodness for all the other people crammed in the elevator, bumping and shoving in their hurry to disembark. Or else Delaney might’ve stood there, frozen in, yes, bliss and let the elevator take them right back up.

  She went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “It sure works on me.”

  And then, even as heady and potent as it was to be with Kellan, Delaney jerked back. Because the smell hit her. Smell . . .
stench . . . noxious odor. Kellan recoiled, too.

  He pulled the top of his orange tee up to mask his nose. “Jesus. There should be a hazmat warning topside.”

  Giggles poured out of Delaney as they left the clean, ventilated air of the elevator. The thought of the most perfectly romantic moment of her life being ruined by the smell of sea lion poop was, well, par for the course. A reminder, some might say, from Karma that what she was doing with Kellan was very wrong, no matter how good it felt. A reminder that it could get her in a literal shit-ton of trouble.

  She couldn’t wait to text Em about the irony. If she could figure out a way to do it without flat out confessing that she and a protectee were dating.

  Em knew her messed-up history, the reason why she chose career over cock—a phrase of Em’s she loathed but which her BFF liked to use to powerfully hammer home the point—every time. Knowing all that, Em would probably do something crazy like jump on a plane and come kick Kellan in the nuts to keep him away and protect Delaney from herself.

  She pinched her nose shut. “C’mon. I want to gawk at a lot of adorable sea lions to make up for this torture.”

  The cave walls were utterly natural, sharp, and craggy. It made her very aware that they were underground. The steady rush of water was audible before they crowded up through a darkened doorway to press against wide-spaced bars.

  Suddenly, the smell didn’t matter anymore. Because they were at the edge of an enormous cave that looked like it belonged in a movie about a distant planet. It had to be several stories high around a wide pool, dotted with rocks and continually slammed with incoming waves from one side. On the other it was also open to the ocean via a long tunnel, where she could just glimpse sunlight.

  At first, Delaney thought the wide rock in the middle was moving. And at least the top of it was, covered in a mass of sleek, slippery sea lions, rolling and pushing, their sharp barks echoing off the cavern’s ceiling. A few thrashed in the surf. Dozens more jockeyed for position along the rocky perimeter of the circle. A small black bird with white chevrons on its wings and bright orange feet soared in a zigzag pattern.

  “This is . . . beyond.”

  “Beyond smelly? Beyond majestic? Beyond adorable?”

  “Beyond anything I expected. It’s completely worth taking the whole day off.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s not good enough. I’m going to need you to repeat that. On video. For posterity.” Kellan waggled his phone at her.

  He was teasing. He probably thought she didn’t have the guts. Couldn’t relax enough, be playful enough to follow through.

  Maybe that was true. In the past. But Kellan was showing her that it was possible to be laser focused, work at a hundred and ten percent, and yet still take breaks to enjoy life. The concept didn’t come easily to Delaney. But when having fun felt like a novelty, it was clearly time to pencil in more of it.

  So she could meet his challenge. She could be spontaneous, damn it. Or, at least, this baby step version of spontaneity.

  Delaney snatched the phone and clicked on the camera, holding it at arm’s length. She even raised her voice to be sure it’d be picked up over the sloshing water and sea lion barks.

  “Kellan Maguire deserves a medal for planning the best date ever. I don’t regret a minute of time spent on it, away from work and training. Because he’s showing me such a good time, I don’t ever want it to end.”

  The grin that had engulfed his face at the start of her speech had morphed into something much more serious. More . . . deliberative. As if she’d made him think. Dark eyebrows slashed upward. “That’s quite a testimonial.”

  Whoops. Overshare much? She kept everything inside so tightly buttoned up that trying to unfasten just one had popped open the whole darn thing. Em would laugh herself silly over this.

  But Delaney was embarrassed. Vulnerable. Stripped bare. And more than a little annoyed at herself for revealing so much. They were having fun—the last thing she wanted to do was scare Kellan away. About a zillion magazines and blogs all swore that men checked out as soon as emotions got shared. Without having a ton of her own experience Delaney had to rely on popular opinion.

  So she tried to smudge out the level of honesty she’d put out there. “I, uh, must be a little high from all the sea lion poop. Ammonia fumes, you know. Very dangerous.”

  “Don’t.” Kellan put an index finger to her lips. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull back. For God’s sake, I can feel the regret crawling over your skin like an army of ants.”

  “I said too much,” she murmured.

  A vein popped at his temple as Kellan ground his jaw shut. Then he scrubbed a hand over the top of his head. “That’s so the opposite of the truth its almost funny. You hardly say anything, Laney. Not about yourself. You’re a terrific listener. A great sounding board. You’re blunt and an unbelievable hard-ass when it comes to work. You’ve got a heart that’s sweeter than cotton candy when you do care about something. But you don’t reveal anything about yourself. And I’ve been too damn nervous about this going well to push until now.”

  She turned away, back to the frolicking animals. The mist of sea water on her face didn’t do much to cool the heat thrumming through her from his pushing. Because suddenly this wasn’t fun at all. “There’s not much to say.”

  Shoulder to shoulder with her, butted up against the bars, Kellan said, “It isn’t the quantity that matters. It’s the quality.”

  Desperate to change the subject, Delaney flashed a teasing smile. “Is that a warning about sex? That you won’t be able to elicit those multiple orgasms you promised me?”

  “Don’t deflect,” he said, with more than a little aggravation cutting each word off sharply. “Oh, and don’t insult me, while you’re at it.”

  Her hands tightened on the bars. He’d seen right through her attempt to not answer him. Her attempt to distract him from digging any deeper into her head and her heart.

  Damn it all to hell, Kellan was right.

  The right way, the mature way, to deal with handing over the truth of how she felt about him—accidental or not—wasn’t to drop it like a flaming bag of crap and run away.

  Delaney could have sex with . . . well, not anyone, but she’d never walked into a club and left by her lonesome if she was in the mood. To be honest—with herself, first and foremost—she wasn’t risking her entire career to be with him just to scratch an itch.

  It was more. Kellan was more.

  Delaney had this need to connect with him churning up inside her. No, they’d already connected. All those months spent watching each other, circling and growling at each other, had netted lots of information.

  She’d gotten to know him by watching his interaction with his brothers. She’d grown to respect him by watching him hide his gritted teeth behind an easy smile each time she yanked him from yet another town. Each time she stuck him with yet another crappy job.

  And now that the hands-off approach had ended? Now that they interacted without any audience, without any constraints of the job or the rules? She wanted more.

  To know more about him. To laugh more with him.

  To share so much more time, amassing memories and kisses and sweetness against the day when this inevitably would end.

  She sucked in a breath. Through her mouth, because holy God, the smell was still acridly strong. “I’m sorry. About both things. This is progress, though. I wasn’t lashing out at you this time—even if you were the unwitting victim. I was lashing out at my own stupidity.” Delaney touched her forehead to the cool bars. “I can command a tactical squad in the field. I can wrangle hardened criminals. Why is this so much harder?”

  Kellan rubbed a wide, outstretched hand in slow circles around her back. “Because this, what’s happening between us, matters so much more.”

  “It can’t,” she breathed as little more than a whisper.

  They had no future. Their time together had an expiration date. One that would literally pull them geographically
apart.

  Ohhhhhh.

  Maybe that’s what made opening up to Kellan so hard. Because the deeper they connected, the more it would hurt when she had to leave him.

  His hand stilled. “But it does.” Kellan gently prodded up her chin until her view was of the beautiful azure pool and the delightfully adorable creatures. “Stop concentrating on the bad, the future, on what could go wrong. Just enjoy the right now. That’s what spontaneity is about. Not doing something wild and crazy that’ll go viral. Being in the moment.”

  Delaney couldn’t help it. She knew they were having a serious moment. A moment of growth.

  Nevertheless, a giggle slipped out. Spurted out, with more behind it. “Funny, that’s the same advice I got my first day at a firing range. Be in the moment.” She waved her hand furiously in front of her face. Her mom had done that move to stop tears from falling. She’d done it a lot. Pretty much on a daily basis, when Delaney walked in from school and caught her with tears in her eyes as she scanned texts on her phone. “Sorry. Veered off topic there.”

  With a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a smartass quirk to his lips, Kellan doubled down. “I think it’s a fair characterization to say that what’s happening between us, what’s happened since day one on Superior Street, is fairly explosive.”

  “Although hopefully not lethal.” Biting her lip was as ineffective as the hand waving thing. The giggles kept pouring out. “Kellan, you’re just making it worse. Don’t play along, for heaven’s sake!”

  “Why not? Why shouldn’t there be laughter in the middle of a serious discussion? Why can’t we have fun?”

  That suggestion sobered her up with the force of a battering ram to her belly. Because it was brilliant. “You think other people do that? Or are you simply a relationship expert par excellence?”

  “I think I don’t care what other people do. Only what works for us.”

  Okay. She’d repay that gift with one of her own. “I call my best friend, Em, every night as I drive the last two miles home and go inside.”

  “Why?”