Dying in her own apartment would be bad enough. Dying without the chance to fight back?
Out of the freaking question.
Keeping her finger off the trigger, Mac steadied her breathing and slowed her heart rate. With her gun at the ready, she was beginning to think whoever it was had given up and decided to leave when the knock came again.
It was more of a persistent pounding now, her heart rate kicking into high gear when a man’s frustrated voice joined in.
“Come on, Mac. I know you’re home. Open the damn door.”
What the…
Blowing out a loud breath, she engaged the weapon’s safety and unlocked her door. After disarming the alarm system—courtesy of R.I.S.C.—Mac opened the door.
Dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a charcoal V-neck t-shirt that stretched tightly across his pecs and biceps, the man looked good enough to eat.
Definitelynotsomething she should be thinking about her partner.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, inwardly wincing at her harsh greeting.
“Good to see you, too.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Nice jammies.”
Knowing Coop, he was probably trying to keep things light after their earlier conversation. Still, she could’ve sworn his eyes had become heated as they took in her black, satin pajamas. But then they found the gun gripped tightly in her hand.
“Expecting someone different?”
“It’s after eleven,” she pointed out. “I wasn’t expectinganyone.”
She didn’t mean to sound so harsh. Not with Coop. From day one, he’d gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable around him. Safe.
But lately he’d made her feel something…more. Things she’d spent years trying very hard to avoid.
Apparently her defense mechanism was a bitchy attitude. One he didn’t seem to mind.
“Well…surprise!” His entire face lit up with a likable, boyish charm, making him appear even younger than his thirty-one years.
It also made her panties want to fly right off her hips.
You cannot think like that now. Or ever.
That tiny voice was right, but damn it was hard not to.
At five-ten, Coop wasn’t the tallest on the team, but he still towered over her five-foot-three frame.
His short brown hair looked a little mussed on top, as if he’d been running his hands through it recently, and his perfect nose and kissable lips matched every other feature on the man’s body.
Though she hadn’t seeneverything, their joint workout sessions and various missions had allowed Mac to see enough.
From his handsome face to his washboard abs, her partner was the epitome of male perfection, which made keeping her distance that much harder. Especially when he was standing right in front of her.
She wanted to growl. Or scream. Maybe both.
Clearing her throat, Mac lifted her chin. “Look, Coop. I have to leave first thing in the morning, so…”
“I know.” He swallowed. “That’s why I came.”
“We already said goodbye at Jake’s, remember?”
“Yousaid goodbye, Mac,” he pointed out. “I never got the chance to say much of anything.”
