He scratched his smooth jaw. “Not much to say. I work construction and have a few weeks off. If a job pops up, my boss will call, and I’ll go back. When spring arrives, I’ll be employed again full time.” Technically, that was true. Once the feds locked up Consuelo, Jarrett could return to his post at the San Francisco field office.
“What an interesting story. You got anything better than work? Tell me something exciting. Have you visited Alcatraz? What’s it like to travel across the Golden Gate Bridge? What do you do for fun?”
His cheeks heated, and he looked away.
She grasped his hand. “Okay, I triggered a nerve. What’s up?”
“I—um—all right, fine.” He exhaled a long sigh. “The best and worst part about Alcatraz is that the guides lock up visitors in the old cells. The clanking bars scared the shit out of me the first time I went there. I was high, acting stupid, and I cussed out the poor tour guide.”
Marissa winced and skated her thumb across his knuckles.
“The second time I went, I knew what to expect. Plus, I’d cleaned up by then, so I didn’t make a fool of myself.”Or make the tour guide cry.He bit back that admission. “I jog a lot on the bridge. The view of the bay is amazing—especially at dusk. The fog is so thick in the morning that you can barely see your hand.” He pulled from her grip and held her hand inches from her face to simulate how far he could see. “But honestly, after you see the bridge a few times, it becomes just another bridge.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but I’d love to find out for myself. Have you ever jogged in the fog with cars speeding by?”
“Guilty. With cars on one side and the open expanse on the other, the wind buffets you and creates this sort of tunnel on the walkway. It’s a rush.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “There are lots of restaurants, museums, and nightclubs. I even went to a few 49er games for the hell of it.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Did you lose a bet?”
“Nah. Believe it or not, I enjoyed it. Most of the crowd wore paint for clothes and jumped around like idiots. It was fun.”
Marissa laughed. “What else?”
“Well, the flowers and architecture at the Japanese Tea Garden are amazing. You’d love it, especially the Sencha tea at the café. Jason would adore the children’s parks. There’s this one with an old-timey carousel and huge slides perfect for adults. The whole park is artsy and wild.”
“Sounds like fun. Were you with a child?”
He forced his smile to stay in place. “No, just a few friends. We’d go there after hours to party.”
The gleam in her eyes dimmed. “Tell me about them.”
“There’s nothing to say. I haven’t seen most of them in years.”
After the police had arrested Jarrett for burglary, Ackermann stepped in and told him what was what. Had he known some of his friends worked for an underage prostitution ring, he would’ve gone to the police himself. Since they’d kept the girls complacent with heavy narcotics, the DEA called the shots in taking them down, and Jarrett agreed to go undercover.
“You dropped them once you cleaned up?”
“Yeah. I struggled for months to get clean and still keep my friends, but they didn’t understand why I wanted to quit. So I let them go.” Rather, they had gone to prison, and he continued working for the feds.
“What about your new friends? What do they do?”
The few friends he’d made were government agents. Unlike them, however, he hadn’t trained at Quantico. He didn’t have a bachelor’s or master’s degree or possess high-level skills in any preferred area. The DEA typically denied applicants with records or those who’d experimented with drugs, but his connections to certain gang members had guaranteed him entry.
“Marissa.” He scooted away from her. “I don’t want to discuss this. The past few years have been pretty much blah.”
“Old girlfriend stories will interest me a lot.”
He laughed roughly. “Don’t open that door. You won’t like what I say.”
“Probably not, but I’m still curious.” She fiddled with a loose string on her sweater. “I’m sorry if this is coming out of the blue. You’d spent all day with Jason—and thank you, by the way, for keeping him busy when I was on the conference call with my boss—but we haven’t had a chance to talk. I want to know what your life is like. Can’t you let me in, just a little?”
How could he let her in? He’d tried so hard to get over her. Cocaine, women, dangerous undercover jobs—nothing worked. Memories of her haunted him like the best erotic dreams he could never indulge in when awake. Those fucking memories tortured him.
He stood and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. The ravioli Marissa had baked for dinner now churned in his stomach.
“You can trust me, Jarrett. I won’t tell your parents anything you don’t want me to.” She sighed and stood as well. “You used to tell me everything. We never kept secrets.”
Jarrett paced between the coffee table and fireplace. “My parents’ opinion doesn’t matter. Dad would still throw up my juvie record or the fact that I’m not a cop, even if I was a model citizen. I’m not that lost, angry kid anymore. I know who I am now, and it’s not someone you’d want to know.”
