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“Hello?” She walked into the kitchen and stopped, listening for any indication that Brad was still there.
“Over here.” He walked in from the sun porch wearing a USS Abraham Lincoln baseball cap she recognized as hers.
“Is that all my clothes you’re interested in, or am I going to find you’ve been through my underwear drawers? Please tell me you aren’t wearing my Wonder Woman panties, too.”
Brad’s eyes narrowed but his reply was calm, unruffled.
“I make it a policy never to cross-dress while on mission.”
His humor made her smile, but she noticed that his eyes remained wary. She’d missed him, missed his joking. Their banter.
“Just as well. Cross-dressing could complicate things at the moment.” She took in the papers strewn on the sofa and his boots next to the end table.
“I thought you were going to lie low. Aren’t you worried about someone seeing you from the sun porch?”
“With this hat on and sitting between your two potted palms? No chance. Everyone’s focused on the area of the explosion, trying to determine if it was a terrorist action.”
“What have they been saying on the news?” She put the perishables in the fridge and pulled out a baking dish, saucepan and frying pan. It might be bland and predictable, but her homemade macaroni and cheese spiked with the ground meat was an easy dish to make, and she suspected Brad would appreciate something that resembled comfort food. She could use a warm meal, too.
“Nothing much.”
He maintained eye contact with her.
“I couldn’t check the news at work, and I didn’t want to ask anyone while I was running errands. I figure the less I comment, the better. No need to draw any unwanted attention to myself.”
At least until Brad was out of her house and off on his next FBI adventure. Because he would leave. She wanted him to leave.
Sure you do.
She set the cheese grater on the counter and wrestled her measuring cups out of the gadget drawer.
“Well, there’s nothing new. The media’s dropped hints that base officials think it could be at worst a domestic terrorist, or possibly a disenfranchised vet. The reports say that NCIS, FBI and local authorities are looking into the backgrounds of several suspects.”
“You still believe you’re going to get nailed for this, don’t you?” She melted butter in a saucepan and stirred flour into it then slowly added milk.
“I have no doubt I would if I came forward now. I’d be cleared in short order, but meanwhile, the press might leak my name or photo, and the terrorists would gain the upper hand. I have to wait. If you get me the information I’m hoping for, by the time I make contact again I’ll have the case wrapped up. Here, let me help.”
Brad made short work of grating the Gruyere and cheddar.
Trying to appear casual, she quickly added the cheese to the simmering milk. The water she’d put on for the pasta started to boil, and the meat was browned.
“I know I’m just a lawyer, even if I’m a former JAG. My job in the Navy was to support you and other operators. Admittedly, I haven’t experienced anything close to what you have. But do you think you might be a little paranoid after your time as a SEAL? After going through the trial and then... Marci’s death?”
There—she’d dragged the ugly, wrinkled, stinking elephant into the room.
“That’s in the past.”
She dumped the entire box of elbow noodles into the roiling water. Brad needed his carbs. Maybe, right now, she did, too.
“It’s not in the past if it’s still haunting you today.”
“What do you want from me, Joy?”
How about your hands on me, your lips on me, your undying affection...
“I want you to look at this objectively. You’re hiding out in my house because you had to shoot a terrorist before he could launch a SAM at one of our aircraft. And you’re undercover, which makes it even more interesting. You found out that they’re targeting General Grimes. You don’t want to blow your cover or let it out that the Bureau infiltrated the cell. I get that. But you could’ve had me call your boss, for heaven’s sake. I mean, really, Brad, what’s with all the drama?”
His eyes widened an instant before they narrowed, and he pushed back from the counter he’d been leaning against. His body vibrated with anger.
The man did have feelings.
“You think this is drama? That I’m making this up? I’ll grant you, I’ve seen more than the average GI or SEAL, and I’m more messed up for it. I’ve lost more, too, including any chance at a normal life. But I’m in this for the greater good, Joy, not for myself. I haven’t turned this into some blown-out-of-proportion video game. Real lives are at stake, and I’m not going to stop until I take these bastards down.”
He stood inches from her and she reached out, placing her hand on his chest. His heart thumped under her fingertips, and she longed to embrace him, to hug away the hurt.
“I do believe you, Brad. I just wanted you to say it out loud.”
His expression softened as anger gave way to incredulity and then relief. “You never doubted me.”
“I worked with you for six months. I saw you risk everything for a man you barely knew. I was there when you were accused of your ex-fiancée’s murder when you had nothing to do with it.”
He reached out and traced her cheek with a shaky finger. “You never doubted me,” he said again.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Oh, I had my share of doubts. I wasn’t downrange with you and Farid. I had to double-check everything you told me—for your sake as well as his. And for my own sake. We all had everything to lose, and one man’s freedom to gain. I’m not a saint, Brad. There were times I wanted you to be less of a man than you were. Than you are. It would’ve been easier, that’s for sure.”
She needed all her effort to keep her gaze on his chest, away from his eyes. When his finger moved from her cheek to her chin and tilted her face up, she tried to will her emotions away.
When their eyes locked, Joy felt a jolt of awareness travel from her lips to her most intimate places. Abruptly, she dropped her hand from his arm.
What did he see in her eyes? Had he realized she’d harbored a deep attraction to him? Still did? That the proper JAG had always had the hots for her enlisted defendant?
You’re both civilians now.
His eyes burned with intent but nowhere did she see disdain or pity. Maybe Brad felt some of the same attraction, the same feelings she struggled to contain.
“Don’t you think I was attracted to you when we worked together, Joy? Do you think you were the only one who felt it? Felt—” he stroked the side of her neck “—this?”
His breath was warm on her face and she burned for him. It was as if every hour she’d spent fantasizing about him, about being together, was concentrated in this single moment.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_883c0fad-d1ad-5309-85ee-e0f69e113675)
BRAD HAD DREAMED of kissing Joy since the minute he’d realized they could have more than a lawyer-client relationship. They’d needed each other in Norfolk. He’d needed her to help him free Farid. She’d needed him to help get her client released from an unjust incarceration.
“We’re both out of the Navy now, Joy. No more ‘ma’am’ and ‘Chief.’ It’s just you and me, plain Brad and Joy.”
Back in Norfolk he’d counted on her to do her job and to make sure he didn’t implicate himself in any wrongdoing by defending a man who’d associated with known terrorists, albeit for the right reasons.
She’d been an officer, he an enlisted man. A relationship was off-limits even if the case hadn’t been an obstacle between them. And he’d had to end his engagement to Marci; he wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other woman until he took care of that.
But she’d tempted him. Joy’s strength of character, her intelligence and her beauty—Joy—called to him each and every damned day they’d worked together. At first he’d blamed it on months of not getting laid. Then he told himself it was because she was the only woman he was with on a consistent basis. At the end of a particularly grueling day, he’d almost leaned against a concrete wall and pulled her toward him for a kiss. He’d blamed it on not having access to regular workouts, but he knew, deep down, that wasn’t the reason.
He’d fought his attraction to Joy for too long.
And now she stood here in front of him, her dark eyes reflecting her desire. He couldn’t take his gaze from her crimson lips, lips that emphasized the translucent ivory of her skin.
He kissed her.
He had to keep this gentle. Easy, simple. A kiss, no more. Curiosity playing out between former colleagues who shared an extraordinary chemistry.
Joy moaned, and his good intentions went to hell.
He pressed her against the counter with his hips and had his tongue in her mouth before he could give himself a chance to second-guess any of it. She reacted in the most womanly fashion as she pushed back into him. Soft, smooth, hot.
They fit together so damned well. It was more than he’d imagined. It was more than lust. It was an attraction born of mutual respect and understanding of the other person and what they both stood for.
The temptation to take that kiss to the conclusion he’d fantasized countless times was just about overwhelming.
A hissing sound invaded the cloud of lust surrounding him, and he felt Joy’s hands on his chest but he kept kissing her. The side of her neck was softer than any silk.
“Brad.” She choked out his name, her voice rising in pitch.
“Kiss me, Joy,” he muttered. “Just kiss me.”
There was that hiss again.
“Brad.” A firmer shove.
“What?”
“The noodles. They’re boiling over.”
He let her go and she turned, still in his arms, and shut off the flame under the overflowing pot. The starchy smell of burned pasta filled the kitchen, and he fought coming back to the reality of where they were, what was ahead of them.
Because all he wanted to do was keep kissing Joy.
* * *
JOY PUSHED HER hair out of her face with shaky hands, but she knew her knees were even shakier. When Brad’s tongue had licked her lips, it was as though the ground she stood on had been shaken by one of those earthquakes that occasionally hit the West Coast.
All from one kiss. A kiss that was far more potent than any in her dreams.
She grabbed the sides of the pasta pot and squealed.
“Ouch!”
“Pot holders would be good.”
Just like that, Brad was back to being the stalwart guy. He could act unperturbed but he’d felt what had passed between them as much as she had. She’d felt his heartbeat increase and felt the unmistakable erection under those too-sexy cargo pants.
“This is going to be mush.” She poured the over-done noodles in the colander and placed the pot back on the stove to cool.
“It’ll be great.” He sounded...relaxed. As if he felt as comfortable being here as she did having him. As if no time had passed...
“You’ve been out of the active duty Navy for almost a year,” she said. “Did it ever occur to you to call me?”
“Yes.”
Don’t ask the question if you’re not ready for the answer.
For once she listened to her mother’s wisdom.
* * *
SO HE DIDN’T want to discuss why he’d never called, never did more than “friend” her on Facebook.
She was an adult, no stranger to relationships that had no future. Take Jonas. They should’ve been able to maintain a casual, Navy friends-with-benefits relationship. A lot of her female colleagues enjoyed the opportunity to date without expectations.
She hadn’t lied to Serena. She and Jonas had never gotten past a few dates, very casual ones, at that—a meetup at the gym for a workout or at a local coffee spot. No romance involved. Her heart hadn’t been in it. Neither had Jonas’s, apparently, as he’d come back from the last of several career deployments to get engaged to Serena. Another work colleague, Dennis, was her perfect match on paper. He was a JAG, too, a lawyer who understood the demands of the job. But again, she’d never felt as much as a tiny sizzle with him.
Brad was different. Her attraction to him was something she’d never experienced before—not this elemental, damn the torpedoes, full-speed-ahead kind of desire. The frightening part for her was that it had started when they worked together, when a relationship was against Navy regs.
He’d never given any indication that he wanted anything from her but her legal expertise.
Except for that searing kiss five minutes ago.
So why did she feel this niggling sense of rejection?
As she sprinkled the remaining Gruyere and cheddar on top of the noodles, meat and sauce in the greased baking dish, she glanced at Brad.
Zip. Nada. His expression was back to the one she’d lived with for six months, working alongside him. Professional, detached, uncompromising.
“It strikes me as odd that an FBI agent has no one in his organization he can trust when his back’s against the wall. Don’t you have a partner?” she asked.
“My partner’s on family leave. His wife just had twins, and he’s taking several weeks off. I’ll be provided with a temporary partner once I get back to my regular routine. Right now my boss and the higher-ups wanted someone with war experience in this part of the Pacific Northwest. We’ve had reports for months that suggest a homegrown terrorist group’s been targeting either NAS Whidbey or Port Everett, or both. With my background I was the obvious pick to go undercover.”
“And you wouldn’t necessarily do that with a partner, anyhow.”
“Right.”
The casserole was in the oven, so she began to prepare steamed veggies in her pressure cooker. If they were going to enjoy a carb fest, she needed to include some greens. She had brownie mix in the pantry, and frozen yogurt in the freezer. Did they need dessert, though? Normally her mouth would be watering at the thought.
Instead, she picked up her glass of ice water to moisten her dry mouth. She took several gulps before she grasped what Brad had said. The glass almost slipped out of her hand before she clunked it onto the counter.
“You think it’s the same group Farid helped you take out in Afghanistan, don’t you?”
Brad shrugged. “That’s what headquarters and the Intel analysts were telling me. These guys fit the pattern. We had indications that they might try to interrupt the Naval exercise that’s going on this week in Puget Sound and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. I was supposed to be halfway between the shore and the Abraham Lincoln. You know Old Abe is the flagship for the exercise.”
“As expected.” She didn’t know a lot about Navy Special Operations or practice scenarios, but Brad was probably familiar with all the possible circumstances under which the Navy trained.
