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Gretchen turned back to the man beside her. “I thoughtyouwere the head of security.”
In the month or so she’d been undercover, Grant had broken up fights, fired bouncers, and come to her aid when patrons started to get out of hand. She’d assumed he was in charge.
“I’m only over security guards,” he corrected. “Jay’s overeverything.”
Gretchen nodded, remembering the way her body had reacted to that brief brush with the other man. Finding out more about Jay was going to be a pleasure.
Chapter 2
Gretchen always dreaded going home, trying to navigate the relationships her family had established before her birth was hard enough, without the added complications of her own secret life as a federal agent.
Originally, her partner, Neil, had agreed to be her date, instead, their captain had kept him in town, claiming he was making enough of a sacrifice by letting Gretchen disappear for the weekend. Without Neil, she’d considered skipping the wedding altogether.
Brock and his fiancé, Maria, had invited hundreds of guests.
Would they notice if she were absent?
In a word,yes.
Brock had always loved her best. Although he was six years older, she’d always been closer with him than her sisters who were nine and twelve-years older. The thought brought a smile to her lips as she sat in the church balcony watching the bridesmaids whisper to one another and the groomsmen shuffle from foot to foot, ready to get the rehearsal over with. Another reason she loved her brother, he hadn’t made her be in the wedding, so now she could sit back and watch and maybe not disappoint her mother too much by simply existing.
A collective sigh escaped the bridesmaids below, causing the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to rise in awareness as the room around her seemed to sizzle. She lifted her head.
“He’s here,” a female voice murmured in appreciation.
Another giggled in fascination. “I’m surprised the church isn’t in flames.”
Gretchen turned slowly toward the door, there could only be one man they were talking about.
In the doorway stood Finnegan James, all six-foot-four inches of hard male, looking much too dangerous to be standing in a sanctuary. He wore a black suit obviously made to fit his perfectly sculpted body. Underneath, he’d left the white shirt opened at the neck and foregone a tie, proof rebel blood still ran through his veins.
Gretchen didn’t move as she admired him, sauntering down the aisle like a fallen angel returning to his former glory. He scanned the lower level with cool gray eyes, before lifting his head and spotting her. The moment his eyes landed on her, assessing her, every nerve ending in her body flared to life with sudden awareness. Good God, she’d had sex and not felt as stripped down as she had with that one look.
His eyes narrowed, and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth. Heat flared up her bare neck and into her cheeks, and her nipples hardened into tight pebbles. In the ten years since he’d last touched her, she hadn’t found anyone who made her crave his touch the way she still craved Finn’s.
She averted her eyes, forcing away the sudden image of him bending her over the church pew in front of her. With the life she led, she didn’t need any reason for God to be upset with her, and Finn certainly danced with the devil.
~ ~ ~
Finn hated churches. He hadn’t been in one since his mother’s funeral ten years before. Too much blood stained his hands for churches, too much sin surrounded him to believe God could ever find anything redeeming inside him. As if he needed proof of his hopelessness, his gaze drifted back to the curvy blond in the balcony, and behind his zipper, he thickened, imagining bending her over a pew.
Brock clapped him on the shoulder as he approached, bringing him out of his dirty daydream. “You made it.” Brock’s shoulders loosened with the statement, tension visibly falling away.
“Of course, I did. I told you I would.” Like he was some type of gentleman and his word meant something, when in truth he told people lies every day, him saying he would do something usually meant nothing.
“Still think I’m making a mistake?”
Finn glanced across the church to where Maria stood with her mother and the wedding planner. How did he tell Brock he didn’t think getting married was a mistake so much as he didn’t believe in the sustainability of love?
He took a deep breath and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He could lie to Brock and tell him getting married was the best thing he’d ever done, and he’d love to be in his shoes, but he didn’t lie to Brock. Well, not about anything except his younger sister.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Finn answered honestly. “For me, marriage would be a huge mistake, but you’re not me.”
Brock grinned and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “One of my few regrets in life.”
“Yeah I bet.” Growing up Brock had everything Finn had wanted, but now—a wife, one day a family—those weren’t things Finn strove for.
Footsteps sounded behind them and Finn glanced at the balcony, but the blonde still sat alone, watching.
