“Come on out. My car is right there,” I tell Lila.
She remains seated, hands fidgeting in her lap. Head down and unspeaking.
Carson leans over the console toward Lila. “He isn’t mad. Trust me.”
Mad? No fucking way.
I squat, hovering in the scant space between the passenger door and the vehicle. Aligning our faces, I try to catch her attention. “Hey, cookie. You did so damn good. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
She flashes those sad eyes at me, making me want to wrap myself around her even more than I already did.
“Really?” she whispers, her tone unusually monotone.
I nod at her, softening my facial features.
“I messed up so bad with Dana.” Her expression intensifies, as if she’s screaming at me with her eyes. “Reed, I told her you were FBI.”
“So what? Shit happens. We’ll handle it. If I ever have a CI who does everything perfectly without a little misstep, I’ll let you know.”
Carson adds her two cents. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“See? It’s fine.” I caress Lila’s leg, careful not to get too personal in front of my fellow agent. “Come on out.”
Not sure why I’m trying to conceal what’s going on with Lila and me. They’ve already put the pieces together. Can’t fool a group of agents like this.
A growing part of me wants to say fuck it and make it official by kissing her right in front of my entire team.
Except the SSA. I might be bullheaded, but I’m not an idiot.
Chase has already cautioned me about keeping some distance for the integrity of the case. Then she said that if something is going on, she’d rather not know.
Lila glances at Carson, flashing a ghost of a smile. “Thanks for the pep talk. And everything else.”
“No problem. We got you.”
After we get into the car, I drive us out of the parking lot without speaking. I’m still in protector mode. Once I get us clear of the area and ensure we aren’t being followed, I’ll work on downshifting from agent to boyfriend.
Fuck. I’m a boyfriend.
That sounds so pathetically cheap for what Lila and I have. I know it’s stillnewby societal standards. But it also isn’t. This isn’t superficial or casual.
You know what? Labels are pointless. She’s mine. I’m hers. Period.
My mental detour does the trick. I reach over the console to take her hand. The feel of her silky skin brings me the rest of the way back to her.
Unable to resist, I lift her hand to my mouth to graze her knuckles with my lips. However, I pause before I make contact. “You washed your hands after touching all those chips, cards, and cash, right?”
She laughs, the vibrant sound filling the car like a decadent perfume. “Yes. I don’t want to get scurvy.”
I kiss her knuckles through a budding smile. “I don’t think that’s how you get scurvy, Lila.”
“You sure? That’s what the potatoes told me.”
Nice to see my cookie is returning to her default setting.
I merge onto the highway, then crick a brow at her. “Did the potatoes have patches on theireyes?”
She points at me, eyes dancing. “Aha. I see what you did there.”
