Page 15

Her stomach clenched at the sound of his voice. She was shocked he needed to talk to her and also that he knew where she lived. "All right." She hit the buzzer and then walked over to the door, feeling wary and nervous. When Tyler had left her in front of Jack's apartment building, she'd thought he was done. He'd basically said that. So why was he here now?

She pulled the band from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair, then turned the deadbolt and opened her door just as he was about to knock.

He hadn't changed since she'd last seen him, his clothes and skin still carrying a tinge of ashes and dust from the fire. She wondered what he'd been doing all day, because she'd felt immediately better after getting into leggings and a sweatshirt.

Although now she felt herself oddly wishing she was dressed a little better. Maybe because her office wear made her feel more powerful and in a position of authority, whereas these clothes made her feel more vulnerable.

But it was too late to worry about all that. "How did you get my address?"

"I work for the FBI, remember?"

"Right. Why are you here?"

"I want to find Jack, and since you do, too, we should talk. Can I come in?"

The question took on more weight than it probably should have. Did she want him to come in? Did she want to work with him? He'd betrayed her once. How could she trust him not to do it again?

"Please," he added.

It was the please that made her step back and wave him inside. It was only then she realized his hair was damp and so were his clothes. The rain had spilled streaks of dirt down his face. "You got caught in the storm."

"I had to park a block away." His gaze swept her living room, which she had decorated in clean, calming whites and blues with a touch of lavender in the florals on the end tables. Her white couch was wide and comfortable, with an armchair on either side, and a large built-in display held her flat-screen television, which had a screensaver that made it look like a picture and not a TV. "This is nice. Very neat and organized."

"I don't like mess," she said, standing somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Clearly."

"Do you want something to drink? Or maybe a towel?"

He smiled. "I'm making a mess, aren't I?"

"You are dripping. The bathroom is just down the hall."

"Thanks."

As he left the room, she let out a breath and told herself to get a grip. She did not know why she was letting him get to her. She didn't like him at all. But damn, he was still good-looking, with dark brown hair and eyes, broad shoulders and a fit body. She swallowed hard, reminding herself that his looks might be fairly awesome, but his personality not so much.

Needing something to do, she walked into the kitchen and started slicing the bread, wondering what Tyler had come to tell her. Hopefully, he didn't have bad news about Jack. Although if he had, he probably would have already told her.

A moment later, he entered the kitchen. "Something smells great."

"I made soup and garlic bread."

"When you say you made soup, I'm guessing you didn't just open a can."

"No, I made it from scratch—chicken, vegetables, noodles… It's my comfort food." She paused. "Are you hungry?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. But the way Tyler was eyeing her pot of soup and platter of garlic bread was impossible to resist.

"If you have enough?" he murmured, as if he wasn't sure he should stay, either.

"More than enough. I usually cook for a few days at a time. It's ready. But do you want to talk first?"

"Why don't we eat and then talk?"

"Sure. Have a seat." She waved her hand toward the kitchen table. He'd dried off, but he still looked a bit ragged, which was actually kind of sexy, another thought she really did not need to have.

She filled two bowls of soup and brought them to the table, along with the garlic bread and a salad she'd made. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Water would be fine."