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She arched an eyebrow, but pursed her lips. After a beat, she said, “TJ is with the team. Jensen has made a celebratory drink. Participation isn’t a requirement, but it’s a tradition. It builds team morale.”
I nodded, not sure what she wanted me to say about her team. “I guess you should get to it, then. I’ll catch up with TJ when it’s over.”
She closed the distance between us and grabbed my hand. “Please stop hating me.”
I widened my eyes. “What? I don’t hate you.”
“Then stop pulling away from me.”
I glanced at our joined hands.
She scowled at me. “You know I mean figuratively.”
I laid my other hand on top of hers and stroked my thumb over her soft skin. I wanted so much more. I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her and spirit her off to a secluded room where we could pretend our night hadn’t been interrupted. I shook my head. “We had an agreement. One night. It sucks that it got cut short, but our night is over, Red.”
“Circumstances have changed,” she said. “The never-seeing-each-other part of the plan has already gone to hell.”
Christ, was she really offering me my secret fantasy of another night together? I raised one hand to her cheek and traced my finger along her jaw. I wanted to give in to her, forget that she knew my dark secret, and tumble back into bed with her until TJ and LeBeque and the feds untangled the mess Carbonados had created. But I had the tiniest suspicion, a small niggling at the base of my skull, telling me that spending more time with her was only going to make me want more and more. Eventually, I’d want to show her the rest of me, tell her the whole truth about the incident two years ago, and I’d be way past being okay with her looking at me with horror.
“Hey kids,” Jensen called from the doorway of the common room, “canoodle on your own time. The team’s waiting to toast with my newly concocted cocktail, the SNS.”
“Wait,” Red said, “Tell me SNS isn’t—”
“Shaken, not stirred,” Jensen answered, referring to James Bond’s famous martini order.
“Not funny, Jensen,” she said, but she was smiling.
We dropped hands and joined the team in the common room. There were two additional men there, one dark-haired and one blond, who looked vaguely familiar. The dark-haired one threw his arms around Red’s neck and kissed her cheek.
“Samantha, good to see you,” he said. “You gave us a hell of a scare.”
“You worry too much,” she said. She also hugged the other man and stood back and held both their hands.
A thought flashed through my mind that one or both of these men might be on her roster. I balled one fist and fought back the urge to pummel them in a pre-emptive strike before one of them could drag her off to bed. Yeah, if I’d needed a reminder to myself that I was not a good guy, that flash of anger did it.
“Derek, Chase, this is Evan Prescott,” Red said. She turned to me with a wide smile and touched my arm. Her small, intimate gesture deflated my anger. “Evan, Derek and Chase Wilder.”
“Wilder,” I said as I shook both their hands. “Bespoke Athleisure, right? Your company is working with the military to develop better helmets for the troops. Wait, you’re also...” I pointed to our surroundings.
The blond man, Chase, held up both hands. “An operative? Never.” He slung his arm over Li’s shoulders. “But I am dating Mai.”
“I left HEAT for love.” Derek took Kessler’s hand.
Jensen nudged my arm. “Kind of got himself kicked out for fraternizing.”
Derek winked at Kessler. “Totally worth it.”
Jensen handed Red and me each a drink. “Here, you need this for the toast.”
Whatever I was holding in my hand was bright yellow and had green olives floating on the top of it. I sniffed and caught a hint of gin, jalapeño, and something stringent I couldn’t identify.
Red sniffed her drink and pulled a disgusted face. “Ugh, Jensen, is there witch hazel in this?”
“Fuck me,” I muttered. “If this is what you serve your friends, I’m glad I’m off your enemies list.”
The team stopped talking and stared at me. I glanced around the room, wondering what kind of rule I’d broken. Never mention enemies? Never insult the terrible bartender? I swallowed hard. Maybe it was never assume you’re off the shit list.
“Spoken like one of us,” Penn said, and he lifted his glass. “I like him.”
