Mistake. Playing house with a woman I’m falling way too hard, way too fast for is a mistake.
We’re here to investigate the murder of her husband.It may have happened a decade ago, but it’s a fact. This is a job. A mission. As I remind myself of that yet again, I feel a bit of calmness wash over me.
I can do this.
“Why don’t you get settled, baby. They’ll be bringing the bags up shortly,” I tell her as I reach into my pocket and withdraw a small black box. After pressing a button on the side, three green lights appear.
I start with the more obvious places one would hide a listening device—the lamps, light switches, and electrical outlets. When those all come back clean, I move on to the furniture, the windows, and the mirror in the bathroom, finishing with the floral arrangements on a table spanning the length of the plush couch.
“Clean,” I tell her, then shove the box back into my pocket. I breathe a sigh of relief that it came back clean. I’ve maintained a cover for months at a time while also being monitored by the person I was there to investigate, but keeping up the married façade with Beckett for any longer than we have to would be nearly impossible.
I need moments of clarity. Even if it’s just minutes to remind myself that there’s nothing romantic between us.
Beckett visibly relaxes and kicks off her sky-high heels. “When do you think our bags will be here?” she questions.
“I imagine they’re going through them right now,” I tell her as I slip out of my jacket. Suits are stifling. But as I note the way Beckett’s gaze travels over me when I finish rolling up my sleeves to my forearms, I realize I’d spend every waking moment in a suit if it meant she’d keep looking at me like that.
I’m in trouble.
“You really think they went through them?”
“I’m actually surprised they didn’t pat us down at the front,” I tell her honestly. I’d warned her not to pack anything that might give us up because they’d likely be searching us and our bags. Even though I feel wrong without it, I’d left my weapon at home, too. Bringing it would mean questions, and we can’t afford those right now.
“I don’t know that I could have handled that,” she says truthfully.
Crossing the room toward her, I rub both hands up and down her smooth arms. “You just need to stay focused. Remember that, no matter what happens, we’re not in this alone.”
She smiles hesitantly at me. “I’ve been praying pretty hard.”
“And look where we are? Inside and alive,” I reply as I hold out my arms to the side in demonstration. “Keep praying, Beckett. I will, too.”
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.” I survey the room again, my gaze landing on the large bed through the open bedroom door. “I’ll take the couch tonight, but we can’t set the room up until right before we go to sleep. In case someone pops in to look in on us.”
She nods. “I don’t mind, though, I can take the couch.”
“No. I’m fine. I’ve slept in much worse places,” I reply with a smile I hope puts her at ease. “Once I had to share a small bunk room with a bruiser named Benny. He would sweat so much it started dripping through the thin mattress of the top bunk, so I ended up crashing on the floor because he refused to take the bottom.”
She pales, and her face contorts in disgust. “That is awful.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t ideal.”
Beckett shivers despite the warmth from the fire in the hearth. “I don’t know how you do this.” She drops down onto the couch and cradles her face in both hands.
“Do what?”
“Blend in so easily. Youbecomethe person you need to be. I barely recognized you, and we’ve been at this together.”
“When it’s that or you die, there’s really no other choice.”
“Sure, but I thought I was going to fall over when that guard stepped out of the front doors.”
Since I imagine it wouldn’t put her at ease to know we’ll likely face more when we move through the club and airstrip today, I don’t say anything. Instead, I cross over toward her and take a seat on the coffee table, then reach out for her hands.
She sits up and rests her hands on top of mine. The contact shoots straight through me, a buzz of electricity that burns me up from the inside out.
“We’re going to be just fine, okay? If they were going to recognize you, they would have done it at the front door.”
