“Seems like I’d be in the way if you’re working.”
She leaned toward him. “I’m not saying you wouldn’t be a distraction, but we’d find a way to make it work.”
Tempting. He was about to suggest she forget work for one night and go on a real date with him when she leaned away from him again. “Besides, you’d be really handy to have along,” she said. “You saw how interested Shane was in your background last night. We could play up your interest and see if anyone wanted to tell you more about their plans, as a way of recruiting you.”
So much for thinking she was interested in him for himself. “Your dad is probably a lot better at getting information out of people than I would be,” he said.
She scowled. “Dad would end up telling me how I should handle things. He can’t accept that I have my own ideas.”
“Was he still working for the Bureau when you joined?”
“Yes.”
“Was that hard for you? Did you worry about being compared to him?”
“Harder than I expected.” She sighed. “I was naive. I always thought he was the best agent possible, and I wanted to be just like him. I found out pretty quickly that not everyone felt that way about him. Some people resented his tendency to take risks and color outside the lines—which were some of the things I admired about him. He always cared more about looking after people than following rules.”
“And are you like him—taking risks and coloring outside the lines?”
“Not so much. I think my superiors are so worried I’ll be like Dad that they haven’t given me a chance to take the lead on anything of consequence. Sending me here on my own feels like a real chance for me to show them what I can do.”
“You don’t think your dad is right, and they sent you here because they don’t think there’s a real case?”
“There’s a real case. Stolen explosives are a serious risk.”
“You said yourself it’s unusual to be sent into the field alone.”
“Yes.” She looked away. “I’m telling myself it’s a vote of confidence. They know I can take care of myself. But maybe Dad’s right, and they sent me out here alone to fail.”
“You’re not alone. Your dad is here to help you. And I’m here.”
She looked up. Her eyes met his, and his breath caught, stopped by the intensity of her gaze and the heat of his response. Maybe she only wanted him because he could help with the case, but he was already too ensnared by her to turn away.
His phone rang. He automatically picked it up and glanced at the screen. Unknown number. It was probably spam, but he needed to answer. “Hello?”
“Connor? It’s Shane Greer. We need to get together and discuss some plans.”
Chapter Eight
Though Connor pressed the phone close to his ear, Stacy had heard the caller’s greeting. “Tell him I want to talk to him!” she whispered.
“That sounds great.” Connor’s faked heartiness made her wince, as did his next words. “My, um, my girlfriend wants to come, too. Is that okay?”
She couldn’t hear Shane’s answer.
“Yeah,” Connor said. He cut his gaze toward Stacy. “Of course.”
Connor listened some more, then said goodbye and ended the call.
“What was that last bit about?” Stacy asked once he had pocketed his phone.
“He asked if I trusted you.”
“It’s no wonder he asked, the way you stumbled over the wordgirlfriend. Is the idea so horrible?”
“No.” His eyes met hers, and she couldn’t ignore the warmth that swept through her. “It’s not horrible.”
No. A relationship with Connor Donaldson wouldn’t be horrible. Confusing, complicated and maybe ill-advised but not horrible.
