Page 93 of Playing With Love

Now I was thinking that was weird, too. It wasn’t like I didn’t work with women, I did. Sure, the majority of my peers were male but I did have female work friends. I had friendships, just not deep meaningful ones, save Tucker. He was the only friend I had where I felt safe to be me. Not even with my husband had I let my guard down.

That meant when I put my arm around Allyson it was awkward. She was taller than me for one, and for two I didn’t know where to put my hand around her back.

Gah.

Thankfully, Allyson knew what to do. She turned into me, gave me a tight squeeze, and mumbled, “This is so hard. Thank you for being here.”

The woman was thanking me when I was there to tear her life apart.

Yeah, awkward didn’t cover how I felt. For the first time since I’d joined the ATF, I was in a situation where taking down the bad guys would hurt a lot of innocent people. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work.

“We’re here for you, Ally,” I whispered. “I mean that, you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

With a sigh and sniffle, she released me, but immediately grabbed my hand and held on tight.

So, girlfriends did hold hands.

Tucker cleared his throat.

My attention went to him and when it did something new stole over me, and it was not awkward or angry or any of the other weird things I’d been feeling since we got in the car this morning.

It was almost like I could feel Tucker’s pride. A whisper of a phantom touch brushing over my cheek, featherlight and soft and full of love.

All of that from a look.

“If we want to eat dinner before midnight we should get back.” Allyson made our excuse to leave. “Do you have plans, Colleen?”

“Yeah. I’m going to Dottie’s tonight for homemade pizza sandwiches and gin rummy.”

Allyson’s gaze shifted to Mackenzie.

Secretly I hoped the bitch had plans, even though it would be better for the case to spend as much time with her as possible.

“Another time, Ally. I have a Zoom mentorship this evening.”

Getting rich off women who want to better themselves.

Yep, total b-i-t-c-h.

It was after dinner. After Tucker had sent Dylan the footage from the button camera I’d worn during our tour. After Tucker had cleaned up the dishes while Ally and I had chatted on the couch. The more I got to know her, the more I liked her, and the worse I felt about what was going to happen—no, what had already happened.

Separation was necessary. Compartmentalizing was the name of the game. But I was having trouble putting Allyson in a box, which made me hate Mackenzie all the more.

Tucker’s hand on my hip squeezed.

“What’s on your mind?” he gently probed.

We were cuddling. Unlike the first night I’d slept next to him in his king-sized bed, or the second night in a queen, we were now in a full-sized bed, meaning the cuddling was needed if Tucker and I were both going to fit. At least that’s what I was telling myself.

“Allyson,” I whispered back.

“She’s doing great.”

She was, totally. She hadn’t slipped up once and she’d been believable.

But since we were keeping our cover even in Allyson’s house, not knowing if it was safe to speak freely, I couldn’t say what I wanted to say so instead I settled on, “I’m worried about her.”