“Why?”
He pulled out of her grasp abruptly, taking a few steps down the alleyway before turning back. His hands dragged through his hair, leaving his cowlick standing straight.
Like always, the sight made her chest tighten. The urge to smooth that tuft of hair down was absurdly strong. But she didn’t move.
If she touched him, she might not be able to stop. And she couldn’t let herself be distracted. She needed answers. She needed the truth. Something very important was about to happen here. She could feel it.
“Because I know what it’s like to love someone.” His voice was hoarse. “And I know what it’s like to lose them. I know what it’s like to be thereasonthey’re gone.” His voice cracked and the sound opened up an answering fissure in her own heart. “I can’t do it.” He shook his head. “I can’t let myself fall in love with a woman only to lose her. It was bad enough what I went through when you got shot.”
Love…
Even though it hadn’t been directed at her—not exactly—the word still made her light-headed. She felt like the ground had dropped from beneath her feet.
“Who says you have to lose?” Her voice was barely louder than the wind threading through the alleyway.
“It’s a risk.” He made a slicing motion with his hand. “One I won’t take.”
She opened her mouth to argue. To press him. To make him see that every risk was worth it when it came to love. But something stopped her.
Instinct maybe? All her FBI training on how to handle an uncooperative witness?
They were balancing on a precipice here. She could feel it as surely as she felt the hammering of her heart.
He wasn’t ready to hear her arguments against everything he was saying. Not at this moment. Not in this place. And that was fine because she needed time to plan. Time to gather her thoughts. Time to choose her words carefully.
“Come to my house tomorrow night,” she told him.
“What?” His chin jerked back.
“My house,” she repeated. “I want to talk to you about this. I want to understand. You owe it to me to help me understand.”
He didn’t naysay her. Instead, he challenged. “Why tomorrow night? Why not tonight?”
She wished she was the type of woman to flake out on an obligation. But she wasn’t. If she said she was going to do a thing, she did the damn thing.
“You know why. You were there. You heard me make plans with Chaz.”
He hitched his chin toward her cup, where Chaz’s phone number was scrawled across the coffee sleeve.
“You’re too good for him,” he said from between gritted teeth.
“Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “He’stoo good forme. I mean, have youseenhim?”
“Enough to know he’d got more brawn than brains.”
“If he were as smart as he is good-looking, then we’d know for sure God has favorites.”
The muscle beneath his eye kept twitching. But now, it was joined by the muscles on either side of his jaw.
“You’re jealous,” she accused, trying not to sound too jubilant even though she imagined doing a happy dance complete with finger guns and hip thrusts. Feigning impatience, she added, “But I don’t have time for it; I have to get to work.” She turned and headed toward the alley’s mouth.
“Julia—” he started, but she cut him off.
“My place!” she called over her shoulder without looking back. “Tomorrow night. Seven P.M. Don’t be late!”
She didn’t wait for his excuses or protests. She kept her steps purposeful even as her legs trembled beneath her.
As she exited the alley and headed toward FBI headquarters, the city closed around her again, the noise, the cold, and the rush of bodies.
