His hair was damp and adorably wavy. The five-o’clock shadow that usually darkened his square jaw had been shaved off. And his cheeks were rosy from the heat of his recent shower.
Yes, she shared a wall with Fisher. Yes, she could sometimes hear him playing his harmonica in his room or singing in his bathroom. And yes, she’d spent more nights than she cared to count imagining him sleeping not two feet from her.
That is when he isn’t sleeping somewhere else. Withsomeoneelse.
“Couldn’t help but overhear.” He cocked his head and eyed her closely. “Why didn’t ya tell him we have her?”
“Because he would’ve done what he always does. Protect his own ass. Or, more accurately, thepresident’sass. He’d insist we stop what we’re doing and hand her over to the FBI. And since I know there’s no way Sam would agree to that, I thought it better all around if Dad stays in the dark until we have it handled.ThenI’ll tell him the truth.”
“Andthenhe’ll know ya lied. What’s that goin’ to do to your relationship goin’ forward?”
She snorted. “What relationship? I’m a cog in his machine, same as all of you.”
When he searched her eyes, she tried to make sure her expression didn’t reveal how much that knowledge hurt.
She must’ve failed because he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward him. “Come here.”
“Fish, I—”
“Shut up.” He stepped from his room and she realized he was naked from the waist up. He had on a pair of black suit pants, but that was all. His feet were as bare as his chest. “I know when someone needs a hug.”
Oh, my god.
Before she could protest, her cheek was pressed against his naked chest and his muscled arms had folded her close. His skin was hot and smelled of fresh soap. His breath was warm as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. And his words were tender when he said, “I know this probably isn’t any consolation, Liza, but he’s the one who’s missin’ out.”
There was that nickname again.
Why does it sound so good when he says it?
“You’re so much more than a cog in a machine,” he added. “If he can’t see that, he’s a fool.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t youdarecry.
Maybe it was the adrenaline that’d been burning through her veins all evening. Maybe it was the stress of lying to her father. But whatever the reason, she was incapable of stopping the tears that burned her throat and spilled hotly over her bottom eyelids.
One must’ve dropped onto Fisher’s chest, because suddenly her face was framed in his big hands, and he forced her to look up at him.
At 5’8”, she wasn’t necessarilytallfor a woman. But neither was she short. Even still, Fisher seemed to tower above her. Making her feel delicate and dainty in a way that had her questioning her membership in the I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar club.
“Oh, doll face.” There was such sympathy in his hazel eyes. “I can’t stand the sight of a woman’s tears. And a woman I happen to admire?” He shook his head. “It’s like a knife to the heart.”
“Sorry.” She sniffled, feeling foolish and soggy and…foolish. She was supposed to be BKI’s pillar of poise and professionalism. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Ya got a hard and ruthless man for a father.” His tone was compassionate. “Makes things difficult, because no matter how old we get, and no matter how much we accomplish, there’s still the little kid who lives inside us who just wants the approval of our daddies.”
She’d seen Fisher’s file. The parts that hadn’t been redacted, anyway.
She knew he’d lost both parents as a teen and had been bounced around from family member to family member until he’d graduated high school and joined the Army. But thedetailsof what happened were a mystery. One she’d been curious about since the day she joined the Knights.
She searched his eyes but found no answers there. Then, of its own volition, her gaze traveled south, landing on his mouth. On his lips. Those full, firm,beautifullyshaped lips.
The urge to kiss him was intense. So she did the only thing she could.
She pushed out of his arms and carefully tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Was your father hard and ruthless too?”
His expression, usually so open and affable, grew hard and cruel. “The hardest, most ruthless man you could ever meet.” There was something in his voice. A sharp edge she’d never heard before. “Thankfully, you’ll never have to since he’s doin’ life without parole down in Pollock Penitentiary.”
She blinked, dumbfounded. “He’s still alive? I thought he died. Thoughtbothyour parents were dead.”
