“A history you failed to mention, huh?”
“A platonic history,” he clarified.
Vivian tapped her nails again.“That doesn’t mean she’s not in a vulnerable position, and hell, that vulnerability may even be what you find attractive.You made your move.Never have before?Right?So why now?You’re the hero.She’s the damsel.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
Her bright lips quirked.“You’re awfully quick to disagree without giving it thought.”
“You’re wrong.”Though, was she?The burn of uncertainty churned in his gut.He’d kissed Grace out of nowhere.He’d been pulled toward her like steel to a magnet and had held her when he’d never touched her after years of wanting her.Why now…?
He stopped overthinking.Vivian had to be wrong.
“This is different from any assignment you’ve had,” she said.“Falling for our clients is always a concern.That’s the nature of the beast.Be aware of it.You need to understand what part of your psyche this job speaks to and how others see you.”
She was wrong.
Vivian continued, “Then you’ll realize there’s a reason for the white-knight-and-damsel-in-distress storyline.It happens all too often.But what you don’t see in those stories is that it never ends the way you think it will.Or should.”
He wanted her lecture to roll off his back.Instead, it nailed him in the gut.
No amount of explaining how he was different, how she was different, how this entire situation was not exactly what Vivian had just explained came to him.He’d royally screwed up.
“Don’t look like I shot your damn dog,” Vivian added.“You would have come to this realization on your own.I’m just seeing it for what it is without the rose-tinted glasses of adrenaline and hormones.”
A heavy numbness blanketed him.It was the same suffocating weight that had arrived after he officially became a civilian again.Since that point, everything in his life had been temporary and devoid of life.But it had disappeared the moment Grace maced him.He hadn’t realized it until now, and hearing what Vivian said, that darkness was coming for him again.
Chapter Eighteen
Theroadnoisewasthe only soundtrack to the drive that felt like it had lasted eons.They had only been in Callum’s truck for five minutes.Something was off.Grace had expected Callum to interrogate her after the meeting with Scarlett and Dean had turned into a working lunch, but he hadn’t said much.
“Scarlett dug up things that I bet Dominic thought were buried.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.“Like what?”
“Questionable crypto promos.More like gambling for his investors than anything close to legit.She’s going to send that information to their contact at the FBI, maybe to butter up the feds and find out what the Attorney General’s office wants—Earth to Callum?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s the matter?”She studied his profile and had never seen him concentrate more on driving.The twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit and the stop signs every block didn’t warrant his level of attention.“You learned something while I was with Scarlett?”
“Not really.”
“Well, something’s wrong.You’ve been quiet and broody since we left.”
He lifted a shoulder, checked his mirrors.“Just thinking through our next moves.Do you care if we swing by my apartment?I could use clean clothes.”
Her curiosity piqued.“Sure.Of course.”
“Great,” he said in that same monotonous tone.
Had time in the office reminded him she was just his job?
“Could I use your laundry?”She’d been meaning to wash clothes before they had to leave Alicia’s.
He glanced over.“I didn’t plan to stay there that long, but there will be a washer and dryer where we’re going.”
His five o’clock shadow had thickened.She wanted to touch the scruff on his face.That was clearly not in the cards anytime soon.“Okay.”
