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I stood again and took over the meeting before X’s melancholy deflated the team all over again. “On that note, Alder and Kessler, I want a plan for the next ten days on my desk this afternoon. Team, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison and mock saluted.
X made a quick exit, but the rest of the team meandered toward the door, exchanging barbs and insults in the way only those who love each other can. A small amount of tension eased out of my neck at the sight of their exuberance.
“Bond, hold back,” I said as the rest of the team filed out of the SCIF.
She waited until we were alone in the room, then asked, “What’s up?”
“I’ve wanted to ask you about this for days.” I’d tried to forget it, but it wasn’t working. I needed an outside perspective. “Something happened Saturday night. Actually, it was Sunday morning when I was at Ms. Armand’s house.”
Samantha sat back down and motioned for me to sit. “Tell me everything.”
“Everything? There’s nothing… I’m a professional doing a job.”
Samantha nodded. “With a woman you’re wildly attracted to, who returns the admiration. According to Kessler, anyway.”
One of Kessler’s superpowers was reading people—their body language, facial expressions, physical tics—and translating that into underlying motives and emotions with startling accuracy.
I stared down at my hands. As the team leader, I was used to having an answer for everything, and a backup plan if the first answer didn’t work. But the puzzle of Ashlee Armand was harder to solve.
“What happened Sunday morning?” Bond asked gently, switching into her bedside-manner tone.
“She touched me. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but… It might have been inappropriate, at least under the circumstances.”
“Which were…?”
“We were arguing about her involvement with the Kovacs.”
“And in the heat of the moment, she touched your penis?”
“Jesus, Samantha! No, she did not. It was my chest.” I touched the spot where she’d traced her fingers along my collarbone. “My tattoo. It wasn’t just that. It was the way she did it. She lingered.”
“You’re seriously concerned about this,” Samantha said, as though it surprised her. “Okay, well, while I can’t diagnose her from afar, my observation as your friend is that her inhibitions were lowered, which could have been brought on by exhaustion caused by the sedative. The two of you got turned on arguing, and she didn’t have enough of a filter to stop herself from touching you.”
“The two of us?” I hadn’t mentioned, nor would I, that I’d pressed her hand to my chest and held it there.
Samantha switched to the flat, unemotional tone she used when performing our medical exams. “TJ, it’s obvious to me, and probably every teammate who saw you with Ashlee Armand Saturday night, that you want this woman. Kessler says Armand wants you, too, and you know she’s almost never wrong about these things. As your medical doctor, I promise you, you’re healthy enough for sex. Be safe, use protection, and have fun out there.”
“Under the circumstances—”
“To hell with the circumstances,” Bond interrupted. “If everyone on this team waited for the right circumstances, I’d be prescribing antidepressants for a team full of lonely, horny, twenty-somethings. You and I are a bit older and wiser, but maybe there’s something you can learn from your teammates.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Any time.” She grinned as she stood to leave. “Tell me what you decide. Complete with details.”
I pushed myself up out of my chair. “Not a chance in hell.”
“You’re such a killjoy.”
“And a stick in the mud and probably a hundred other names the team calls me when I’m out of earshot,” I added.
“Yeah, we really think you’re a drag. We would only follow you to hell and back. And if you asked nicely, we’d probably stay in hell indefinitely if you needed us there.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
We stood in silence for a minute, the lighthearted moment gone.
