Instead, I head back toward Cole’s apartment, mind already splitting into compartments the way it does when I’m under pressure—one labeled evidence, one labeled risk, one labeled Cole.
The first two I can handle.
It’s the third one that’s starting to feel like the most dangerous part of this entire case, because I realize with a clarity that makes my stomach dip that I never stopped loving him.I just learned how to build discipline around it, how to keep it in a locked room inside myself where it couldn’t interfere with my work or my choices.
Being this close to Cole again—sleeping in his home, drinking coffee from his mug, watching him walk into a room like he still owns a piece of me, makes that discipline feel less like strength and more like a bad choice.
CHAPTER 7
Cole
Thesmellofbakedcheese and garlic has my mouth watering.For a brief second, I forget that half the people gathered here tonight can kill with their bare hands and the other half can dismantle a foreign intelligence network from a laptop.
Anna stands at the head of the long farmhouse table like a general of domestic warfare, sliding a heavy ceramic dish onto a trivet.
“Don’t even think about touching it yet,” she warns Reid without looking up.
Reid, already holding a fork, lifts his hands in surrender.“I was assessing structural integrity.”
“Of the lasagna?”Josie asks dryly from the island, where she’s leaning against the counter with a glass of red wine in one hand.
“Of my patience,” he shoots back.
There’s easy laughter, more jokes and ribbing, and I take it in for a moment before moving deeper into the room.The long table seats ten, and it’s nearly full tonight—agents who live here, others who’ve drifted in because Anna made lasagna and no one in their right mind ignores that invitation.A few guys perch at the island with plates already loaded from a second pan resting there, while two of the younger operatives have claimed spots on the sectional couch with their food balanced on their laps, arguing over whatever is on the muted television.
Malik stands nearby with a beer in hand, his expression clearly appreciative of the family scene spread out before him.
And then I see Tessa.She’s standing with Josie, animated and intent in the way she gets when she’s dissecting information.Her hair falls loose over one shoulder, and she also holds a glass of wine.There’s color in her cheeks I didn’t see yesterday.There’s life in her expression that makes my chest ache with want.
We’ve been hanging out together most of the day, first taking her to meet with her editor and gathering everything she needed from her office to work remotely for a few days.We went to her house after and pored over more of the information from the flash drive.I try not to dwell on how good it felt to be back in her home—the home I lived in with her for over a year before we split apart.It certainly dredged up feelings that I’d thought were long dead and buried, plus way too many reflections on some of the best moments in my life that were spent in that house.
“Cole,” Malik calls, lifting his bottle to get my attention, and busting me right out of the memories.“You’re just in time before Reid tries to stage a coup.”
“I’m starving,” Reid mutters.
“You’re always starving,” Anna counters, sliding a spatula through the lasagna with practiced ease.“That doesn’t entitle you to the first strike.”
I lift my chin to Malik but ignore the food for now, instead moving over to Tessa and Josie, who I assume are talking shop.Instead, I walk in on a conversation about cats, which is odd.Tessa’s definitely a dog person.
“I’m telling you,” Josie says, completely serious, “cats absolutely understand English.They just choose to ignore it.”
Tessa folds her arms.“No.Dogs understand English.Cats understand contempt.”
Josie gasps.“That’s slander.”
“I’m not slandering,” Tessa insists.“I’m observing.If I call a dog, it comes.If you call a cat, it evaluates whether you’re worth the effort.”
“That’s merely discernment,” Josie argues.“We call it emotional intelligence in humans.”
“It’s narcissism,” Tessa shoots back.
I stop beside them, blinking.“We’re in the middle of dismantling a corporate arson ring,” I say slowly.“And you’re debating feline psychology?”
Tessa glances up at me, completely unbothered.“It’s important to understand your enemy.”
Josie narrows her eyes.“You’re definitely a dog person.”
“Obviously,” Tessa says.“Unconditional loyalty, tail wags and zero attitude.”
