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“Mm-hmm. And I’m not sure if I should thank you for pulling him away last night or be pissed. On one hand, the orgasms were worth it. But on the other, I always get anxious when our routine changes, so I’m twitchy today. Maybe once I’m less sleepy, I’ll decide if you owe me an apology or if I owe you a thank you.”
“I can start with an apology.” I square my shoulders with her, waiting for her gaze to landnearmy face. “I’m sorry for pulling him away unexpectedly and wrecking your routine. There was an urgent case. We had to act fast.”
“Was it a success?” she asks in earnest. “Leo didn’t want to talk about it, and I tend to trust his judgment on that kind of thing.”
Trust.
A beautiful thing. Wish I had it.
“It was a huge success. No injuries on our end. Not a single bullet fired. And we saved sixteen girls from a trafficking house.”
“Sixteen? Trafficking?” Her nose wrinkles like she smells something. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine what those girls are going through. Where are they? Back at their homes with their families?”
My stomach sours, and it’s not the acid from the strong coffee. “I don’t know. The team discreetly dropped them off at the hospital.”
She nods while staring off into the distance. “I’m glad you changed my routine. It was worth it. You’re forgiven. And thanks for the hot sex that followed.” She smashes her eyes closed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s Leo who deserves props for the sex.”
Her already rosy cheeks flare to cherry.
My obnoxious laugh makes its first appearance of the workday. I tap her forearm. “No worries. I had an equally satisfying night.”
“Ooh, this feels like girl talk.”
It’s a statement, but she made it a question. As if she doesn’t trust her read on the situation.
“It is,” I reassure her.
Her pretty blue eyes sparkle in the fluorescents of the break room. “Anyone I know? Someone here?”
“I’ll give you two guesses.”
Am I kissing and telling? Or shagging and wagging?
I don’t think Klein will mind. Leo picked up on it already. Tomer caught us together at my house, and Cal didn’t hide it from anyone else last night. He even held my hand when we left Redleg.
“Well, I’ve read a lot of romance novels, especially lately because I joined a book club with the Amos-holes. And so my money is on Klein or Tomer. I’m getting strong coworker trope vibes.” She taps her unpainted fingernails against her chin and studies my reaction, but I mask my face to add to the tension.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Klein. It’s enemies to lovers, right? I saw how you two were that first day.”
Unable to contain my wide grin, I nod in agreement.
She pumps her fist. “Nailed it.”
We chat a few more minutes, both of us enjoying the coffee talk— not affiliated with the old SNL skit with Mike Myers that I watch on reruns.
When we get ready to part, she pauses and grips my arm.
“What?” I ask.
“Would you be able to find those girls? The ones the team rescued last night?”
Taken aback by the sudden topic redirect, I give it a beat before answering.
I suppose we have enough video footage for me to compare with missing persons reports and internet history. Likely some of them will file police reports too.
“Yes, I think I could. Easily. Why?”
