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So do I.

I’ve already put my trust in the FBI once when I went undercover with the mob, and rather than having my back when I was made, they did nothing but screw me over by failing to protect me while I was on the run.

Again, and again.

Not taking me seriously when I warned them about the mole was bad enough.

Being forced to uproot and relocate repeatedly is worse.

“Before you say “no,”why don’t we go and talk about this somewhere else? I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say next about your friend’s ex-husband.”

Our eyes meet and we stand there staring at each other for a beat too many. Do I trust him? Should I even give him the time of day? A part of me wants to push him to a side and walk past him without a second glance, but there’s another part of me that actually wants to take our conversation somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

God I hate him.

I take a step back and give him a tight nod.

Ah, what the hell.

Chapter 2: T’s and I’s

Matthew

Two weeks later

How in the hell am I meant to convince her if two weeks haven’t swayed her? Even looking into her friend’s ex hasn’t softened her stance.

And while she seems disturbed over the death of a fellow agent, I don’t think it’s enough to change her mind. Unfortunately, the longer the mob goes unchecked, the worse their hold is, and the last thing I want is more dead bodies in their wake.

Not if I could help it.

Jennifer Marshall might not like it, but she is the only hope we have of getting this done quickly.

All I have to do is lead the mission and ignore the racing of my heart whenever I’m near her.

Or the fact that she makes me tongue tied.

In a corner in the back, Jen sits across from me hunched over in a booth, looking strange and out of place in her knee length pencil skirt and dark heels.

Once she glances over at me, something odd flutters in the pit of my stomach.

Get a grip, McCray. You’re meant to be her handler, remember? You’re not here to fool around.

And the last thing either of us needs is to complicate things further.

Having spent the past two weeks trying to stop imagining the leggy brunette I was sitting in front of, I hadn’t realized how difficult it was going to be to see her again. As soon as I look away, she picks up her menu.

I pick up my own and eye her over the rim. “Are you sure this place is safe?”

“As long as you weren’t followed,” Jen replies without looking at me. “Who else knows you’re here?”

“This mission is on a need-to-know basis.”

Jen’s hazel eyes fix on mine, sending a shiver racing up my spine. “And did you pick your own team?”

“Yes.”

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