Текст книги "About That Night"

Автор книги: Julie James

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Twenty-five

RYLANN’S EYES DID a quick sweep over her apartment as she walked to the front door. Definitely not a penthouse, but it was cute and cozy and, thankfully, clean. Not that Kyle was staying long, she reminded herself. Friday night had been a one-time thing—with the drinks and the romantic lighting in the club and the way he’d been looking at her when he’d said that line about the most beautiful girl in the bar, she’d just sort of let herself be swept up in the moment. But now it was time to face reality.

With that in mind, she threw open the front door. Kyle stood there—more dressed up than she’d expected and looking strikingly attractive in his tailored gray pants and crisp blue shirt.

With an appreciative gleam in his eyes, he took in her cream peasant top and jeans. “So you do own pants.”

Rylann opened her mouth, ready to give him the speech about not complicating things, no matter how great the sexcapades had been—when he held up his hand, cutting her off at the pass.

“Before you get rolling with the lecture, or start heading for the hills again, you should know that this is a no-strings-attached visit. I have something for you.” He held up a silver wine gift bag that flashed with so many sparkles and sequins it nearly blinded her.

Rylann pulled back in surprise. “Oh. Wow.” She hadn’t been expecting him to come bearing gifts. Especially one so bedazzled.

He shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. “The bag didn’t look quite as shiny in the store.”

Whatever this was, he looked adorably nervous about it. Rylann held out her hand. “Let me see.” Intrigued, she took the bag from him, pulled out the wine bottle, and read the label.

India Ink.

“It’s one of my favorites. You remembered that,” she said, staring at the label. “Thank you.”

He made a big show of trying to look nonchalant. “It’s no big deal. Jordan had a couple bottles sitting out, so I grabbed one.”

Rylann leaned against the doorway. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Kyle, because I really love the wine. But what’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought we could…hang out and talk.”

He looked as shocked by the suggestion as she was.

“Talk?” Rylann stared at him. “Are you feeling okay? You’re being very…not you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked indignantly. “That I can’t hang out with a girl without sex being on the table?”

Good question. “I don’t know. Have you ever hung out with a girl without sex being on the table?”

He immediately scoffed at that. “Of course.”

“Not including high school.”

His busted look said it all.

Rylann smiled. “You might want to plead the Fifth to avoid self-incrimination.”

Kyle looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I swear—no more law geeks. Ever. From now on, I’m sticking with simple, easygoing girls whose goals in life do not seemingly include driving me insane.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Look, here’s the deal: today was a good day for me. And strangely enough, you, Rylann Pierce, are the first person I wanted to tell about it.” He held out his hands in exasperation. “Do with that what you will.”

Later, Rylann could tell herself that she’d simply been sucked in by the wine-bottle gesture and how cute Kyle was when he got worked up and pissed off at her like this. But if she was being honest with herself, she’d have to admit that the fact that he’d wanted to tell her about his day had kind of melted her rational, pragmatic, noncrazy heart a teeny, tiny little bit.

So without saying a word, she took a step back, making room for him to come inside. With a victorious grin, Kyle followed her, standing close as she shut the door behind him.

Rylann pointed. “Remember—hands to yourself.”

“Of course, counselor.” He winked. “Unless you say otherwise.”

SINCE THE TEMPERATURE was in the low seventies and the night sky was clear, Rylann suggested sitting outside on the deck located off the back of her third-story apartment. She set the open bottle of India Ink between them, on top of the wooden bistro table she had purchased the previous weekend. She’d also picked up a few planters and some flowers, transforming the deck into an urban minigarden.

“I like it out here,” Kyle said, sitting back in his chair with his glass of wine. “That’s the one downside of my apartment—no outdoor living space. Trust me, you notice that quickly when serving home detention for two straight weeks.”

“I’ve seen the penthouse, Dimples. I’m not exactly crying a river.”

“More tough love from Prosecutrix Pierce,” he said. “Shocking.”

Rylann laughed. ” ‘Prosecutrix Pierce’? Is that what you call me?”

“I find it has a certain authoritative ring that suits you.” Kyle caught her checking him out. “What?”

She gestured to his shirt and pants. “What’s with the business-casual attire? I’m on pins and needles, waiting to hear about this good day you’ve been having.”

“I had two job interviews earlier today.”

Rylann raised her glass to his, thrilled for him. “Congratulations. That’s really great, Kyle. How do you think the interviews went?”

“Very well. I hired both guys.”

Rylann cocked her head, confused. “Wait—you hired them?”

He took another sip of his wine, looking pleased with himself. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”

“No. But now I’m really intrigued.” Rylann studied him curiously. “What are you up to?”

So he told her. As they sat there drinking wine, Kyle told her all about the consulting business he planned to start. Granted, she understood about half of what he was saying, the other half being coded in computer-speak and tech terms, but it didn’t matter. He was clearly passionate about the subject and extremely driven, and that made the entire conversation absolutely fascinating.

It occurred to Rylann that because they’d focused so much these past several weeks on Kyle being an ex-con and her witness, this part of him had been overshadowed. Now, suddenly, she was seeing him, this computer genius turned multimillionaire corporate executive who planned to take the tech world by storm.

And she had no doubt that he would do exactly that.

When he finished, Rylann poured them both a second glass of wine, feeling the warm, relaxed glow of the cabernet. “Okay, I admit it. I’m impressed.”

He clutched his heart, feigning shock. “Hold on. Was that an actual compliment?”

“Please don’t ruin the nice moment. It’s so rare that we actually have one.”

With a smile, Kyle leaned back in his chair. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve said that I impress you. You also told me that nine years ago, when I mentioned that I’d sat for my PhD exam.” He tucked his arms behind his head. “So much for never stroking my ego.”

Rylann looked at him, surprised. So it wasn’t just her who recalled many of the details of their first meeting. “You still remember I said that after all these years?”

“I remember pretty much everything about that night.” He reached forward and grabbed his glass. “Tough weekend to forget,” he said simply. He took a sip, then looked at her.

Since most of her time with Kyle was spent teasing or trading quips, Rylann took advantage of this small opening into real, true emotion and asked something she’d been wondering about ever since they’d reconnected. “Is it weird for you to be around me?” She swirled her glass hesitantly. “Do I remind you of all the bad things that happened that weekend?”

“No.” His tone turned quieter, and his eyes were uncharacteristically serious as they held hers. “Being around you reminds me of the one good thing that happened that weekend.”

Rylann felt a tightening in her chest.

Run.

There was a part of her that certainly thought she should do just that. Outside her apartment door, she and Kyle didn’t make any sense—he was a famous ex-con, and she was a federal prosecutor.

Tonight, however, inside her apartment…it was just the two of them.

So she got up from her chair and walked over.

Silently, she climbed onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist. Heat instantly flared in his eyes.

She lowered her head. “Just remember your promise. Hands to yourself.” Then she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him.

For a long moment their lips and tongues played and teased, like teenagers kissing under the stars. Slowly, Kyle pulled back and brushed a finger along her cheek. “You were not supposed to walk into the courtroom that morning, Rylann Pierce.” His eyes met hers. “I want to be completely honest here. I like you. Probably a lot more than I should. But after everything that happened with Daniela, I was planning on staying the hell away from relationships for a long, long time.”

He waited expectantly, his body more tense than it had been just moments ago, as if steeling himself—whether for an argument, an interrogation, or simply a talk about feelings was tough to say.

Instead, Rylann slid her hands up his chest. “I bet that part of the Kyle Rhodes no-strings-attached speech doesn’t always go over so well with the women you date.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair, his eyes searching hers. “Does that mean you don’t care?”

“Are you asking me if I’m looking for something serious here?”

He nodded. “Yes. And that is definitely not part of the usual Kyle Rhodes speech.”

Rylann toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt, trying to decide how best to answer his question. She liked Kyle—probably more than she should—but she had genuine concerns about how any sort of long-term relationship between them could work. For both their sakes, things would probably be a lot simpler if they kept it casual.

“Given your history with my office, being in a relationship with you…would be difficult,” she said. “Prosecutors don’t typically date ex-cons. Especially not a prosecutor who’s trying to make a good impression at her new office.”

She expected Kyle to make a joke, most likely something about good-girl prosecutors, but instead, his expression remained serious.

“So where does that leave us?” he asked.

“Honestly? I have no clue.”

He thought about that for a moment, then slid his hand up her back and pulled her closer. “But you’re supposed to be the girl with the plan.”

“Funny enough, I always seem to forget that around you,” Rylann whispered, closing her eyes as he began kissing her neck. Truly, the man had the most wickedly talented mouth. “No more Scene and Heard,” she said, inhaling unsteadily and struggling to stay focused as his lips brushed against her earlobe. She needed to set some ground rules. “We have to be more careful. What happens in the apartment stays in the apartment.”

“Got it, counselor,” he murmured softly. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Before she had a chance to argue, Kyle’s hand moved to her neck as he caught her mouth with his. His lips parted hers as he seductively explored her mouth while sliding his hands under her shirt to caress the bare skin of her lower back.

That reminded Rylann of something. She pulled back and peered down at him. “Hey. What happened to ‘no hands’?”

“Oh, sorry, that’s not how this works,” he said with a grin, teasingly repeating the lecture she’d given him at the diner.

She raised an eyebrow. “You’d break your promise?”

His hands slid around front, moving over the thin satin of her bra. “You know you want me to break that promise as much as I do.” When her nipples tightened in response to his touch, a satisfied look flashed in his eyes.

Rylann still said nothing.

Kyle paused with his hands cupping her breasts. “You’re serious?”

She nodded, fighting back a smile when he sighed dramatically and removed his hands from her chest.

“Now…where were we?” she asked coyly. “I think somewhere right about here.” When she brushed her lips over his, he was ready for her, taking her mouth in a bold, searing kiss that left her body hot everywhere. As his tongue swept around hers, she sighed softly and pressed her chest against his. She felt his hand at her cheek as he tried to take control once more, then smiled when he swore under his breath and gripped the wooden arm of the chair instead.

“I think I like this,” Rylann said when she pulled back.

His eyes burned into hers. “Ask me to touch you. Trust me, I’ll do all sorts of things you like even more than this.”

“Hmm. I’ll take your recommendation under advisement.” But for now, she was having too much fun being in the driver’s seat. She unbuttoned his shirt, taking her time as she worked her way down. She pushed it open and slid her hands across his chest, exploring the hard, defined planes of his muscles. “Did you lift weights a lot in prison?”

“Every day.”

She suddenly caught herself wondering whether she was the first person Kyle had been with after his release, then decided she really didn’t want to know the answer to that. The idea of him with someone else, with another woman who’d touched him just like this, made her far more jealous than she wanted to admit.

Careful, Pierce.

She pushed the thoughts aside—what mattered now was that he was here tonight. And she planned to enjoy every lean, hard inch of him.

She leaned forward and kissed his neck, hearing the deep rumble of pleasure in his chest. She could feel his thick erection between her legs, and ever so slowly she began rocking against him.

“You’re killing me here, Rylann,” he said in a raspy voice.

Exactly her plan. But not here, out on her balcony, in this chair that was far too confining. “Come with me.” She stood up and took him by the hand, leading him through the screen door and into her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and was about to tell him to join her when he stepped between her legs and swooped down to take her mouth in a scorching-hot kiss. With his hands braced on the bed on either side of her, she fell back onto her elbows and gasped when he rubbed his hard shaft between her legs.

“You never said no mouths,” he said slyly. “Why don’t you take off those jeans and spread your legs so I can lick you until you scream?”

She moaned when his erection rubbed against just the right spot. “That’s cheating.”

With a chuckle, he stood up and pulled off his shirt. All of the rest of his clothes quickly followed, then he climbed onto her bed and stretched out, fully naked and erect. He folded his hands behind his head and watched her. “What do you plan to do with me now?”

A challenge. Rylann pushed off her elbows and stood up, undressing down to her bra and panties. Then she climbed back onto the bed and straddled him once again. “I have a few ideas.” While holding his gaze, she licked her lips.

His eyes instantly turned a deep, smoldering blue. “Counselor…I really like where you’re going with this.”

KYLE FELT THE heat coiling in his abdomen as Rylann shifted lower and settled between his legs. Christ, he wanted this—she’d been driving him crazy with her no-hands rule ever since she’d first kissed him.

And when she licked his inner thigh, he knew the madness was far from over.

Propped up on pillows, his hands behind his head, since he’d promised he wouldn’t touch her, he watched as her long raven hair fell forward, blocking his view of her. “Move your hair out of the way,” he said huskily. “I want to watch when you take me in your mouth.”

Her look was coy as she sat up and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. Then she reached back, unhooked her bra, and tossed it on the floor.

Kyle gazed at her, aching to feel those rosy-tipped breasts in his hands, to run his tongue over her tight, peaked nipples. “Rylann. Come here.”

She shook her head no. Instead, she wrapped her hand around his cock and slowly stroked him, up and down. “So smooth,” she said. She shifted her body and licked the head while holding his gaze.

Fuck. He was throbbing already, and she’d barely started. “Deeper, baby,” he said in a guttural voice. “Wrap those saucy lips around me.”

She slid the head between her lips and sucked lightly, then, inch by delicious inch, took him farther into her warm, luscious mouth.

His eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “Just like that, Rylann,” he moaned. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair, to palm her head and guide her up and down. But all he could do was watch as she subjected him to the sweetest torture imaginable, licking, sucking, and stroking him with her mouth and hands until he was rocking his hips, thrusting gently into her mouth and dangerously close to exploding.

“Come up here,” he said in a gravelly voice.

She released him, trailing her mouth along his skin all the way up and brushing her breasts against his chest. “Did you bring a condom?”

Three of them, actually. But he wasn’t ready for that yet. His gaze fell to her panties. “Take those off and straddle me.”

“Somebody’s getting bossy again.”

Yes, somebody was. Because somebody was determined to break her no-hands ban before it killed him. When she was straddling him once again, he propped up on his elbows and crooked his finger, beckoning her. “I need one of those breasts in my mouth.”

“Very bossy,” she said. But she did it anyway, gasping when he circled his tongue around her nipple, teasing it into a stiff, hard peak. Instinctively, she began sliding against him, his cock nestled right across her warm, wet core. He was so close to being inside her, but he wanted control—wanted all of her. She moaned again as he rolled her other nipple in his mouth and thrust against her.

“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly.

“Ask me to touch you.”

He would’ve smiled when she groaned in frustration if he hadn’t been so near to the edge himself. He used his legs to spread her open as he rocked his hips against her.

Her body trembled as she finally caved. “Touch me, Kyle. Now,” she begged.

Thank fucking God.

Kyle slid his hands over the silky skin of her back, tangling them in her long hair as his mouth took hers possessively. “Flip over. On your stomach.”

Her eyes flashed at his words, and she slid off him and lay on the bed, watching as he reached around on the floor and found his pants. He took a condom out of his wallet, tore open the wrapper, and rolled it on. “You should probably start keeping these here,” he told her. “I plan to be inside you a lot when we’re in this apartment.”

Then he climbed between her legs and gently lifted her hips. “Up on your knees,” he said huskily. He nudged his cock into the wet entrance between her legs, sliding in and out while her tight, slick passage stretched to fit him, squeezing him every inch along the way. “I want to take you hard,” he said in a thick voice.

“Yes,” she groaned, her hands clutching the blanket.

He gripped her hips and began to move, first in smooth, steady strokes, and then taking her faster, deeper, wanting to claim her and make her his. When he was inside her like this, there were no rules, no complications; neither her job nor his past existed, there was nothing else except the two of them; and this moment, when everything felt so right and so fucking good.

“Kyle,” she said urgently.

“I’ve got you.” He reached down between her legs and began to tease her. She braced herself on her forearms and thrust back against him, crying out when her orgasm hit her. Wave after wave gripped his cock as he gripped her hips and thrust deep into her, again and again, until he exploded, the force of his orgasm so strong he had to slow down and hold her tightly to him, his jaw clenched as he groaned and finally shuddered to a stop.

Panting, they collapsed on the bed, a thin sheen of sweat covering their bodies.

“Better than…not bad?” he asked, out of breath.

Her voice was muffled, her face buried in the blanket as she lay motionless and seemingly utterly spent. “Hell, yes.”

With a grin, he rested his forehead against her back.

About time.

Twenty-six

THREE DAYS LATER, Rylann met Rae at the Starbucks across the street from the Federal Building for a midafternoon break. She was on a supersecret stealth mission—Operation Setup—and, deriving inspiration from the FBI agents with whom she often worked, she’d crafted the perfect cover story: she’d claimed that she wanted to get Rae’s advice about the situation with Kyle. In truth, however, she had a whole sneak attack worked out—which was necessary, because if Rae caught one whiff of Operation Setup, she’d be out the door in two seconds flat.

The beauty of this situation was that even if Rylann’s mission failed, no one would ever be the wiser. Having worked with Cade for a month and a half, she knew his routine: barring a court appearance or meetings, he went to Starbucks at three o’clock sharp every day. Which meant—as Rylann checked her watch—that he would be arriving in approximately eleven minutes.

She and Rae sat at a table within view of the counter, where Cade would see them. Naturally, he would come over to say hi, at which point she would “casually” introduce him to Rae. The rest was up to them.

While they enjoyed their drinks, Rylann caught Rae up on the latest developments with Kyle—being careful, of course, to keep her voice low whenever saying his name.

“So Tuesday was the last time you saw him?” Rae asked.

“Well, technically it was Wednesday morning,” Rylann noted with a smile. Since then, Kyle had been out of town, meeting in Silicon Valley with a young executive at a software company whom he wanted to recruit for his security consulting business.

Rae studied her. “You’re doing the glowing thing again.”

Rylann pointed to her latte. “It’s the caffeine. Stimulates blood circulation.”

“You like him.”

Rylann shrugged. “We have fun together. I’m not ready to call it anything more than that yet.” She saw Rae’s look. “What?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

Rylann scoffed as she picked up her latte. “Why don’t people ever say that to men when they want to keep things casual? Women can’t have fun, too?”

“Of course they can. But here’s a general rule of thumb: if you’re still grinning like the friggin’ Cheshire Cat three days after seeing the guy, things have moved a hair beyond fun.”

Ha, ha. “I’ve got this, Rae. He and I have talked—we both know the deal. He doesn’t want to get serious with anyone, and…I don’t want to get serious with him.”

“All right. If you say so,” Rae said, not seeming entirely convinced. “So when are you and Smug Dimples seeing each other again?”

Rylann hemmed and hawed a bit. “Um…tonight, actually.”

Rae raised an eyebrow. “Two dates in one week.”

Rylann shook her head. “Not a date. He’s going to the Bulls game with his sister’s boyfriend and asked if he could drop by afterward. It’s just a hookup.”

“A prearranged hookup.”

“Exactly,” Rylann said.

“In other words, a date.”

“If we ever step outside the nine hundred square feet of my apartment”—which was not likely—”then I’ll call it a date.” Rylann checked her watch. 2:59. Which meant that Target B was about to leave his office and would soon be en route to the rendezvous point with Target A. Within minutes, Operation Setup would be fully under way.

Until the whole sneak attack went up in flames.

Rae saw Rylann check her watch, and did the same. “I should probably get going. I’ve got a pile of document requests waiting for me back at the office.” She stood up from the table.

“Wait.” Rylann tried to think quickly, needing to stall just a minute or two longer. “Maybe you were right. Maybe it’s not a good idea for me to see you-know-who tonight.”

Rae waved this off. “You sound like you’ve got the situation under control.”

“Still, perhaps we should fully vet the pros and cons.”

Rae ticked off her fingers, running through her list. “You’re having sex. Great sex. With a man who brings you expensive wine. Pro, pro, pro.” She held up three fingers. “Yep, I’m good with the situation.”

Well, when she put it that way…Rylann quickly changed tactics, not yet ready to concede failure on Operation Setup. “But we haven’t talked about what’s going on with you.”

“Because, depressingly, there is nothing going on with me.”

“Then let’s talk about that.”

Rae looked her over suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly so insistent that I stay? We talk all the time.” She cocked her head. “And come to think of it, why have you been checking your watch this whole time? It’s like you’re waiting for somebody.” Her eyes went wide, then she gasped and pointed her finger. “No. Do not tell me this is a setup.”

“Calm down, it’s not a setup.” Rylann hedged a little on that. “I’d call it more a meet and greet. Just a guy I work with; it’ll be totally casual. He doesn’t even know you’re—”

“Uh-uh. No way.” Rae grabbed her purse and drink off the table. “You know I hate these kinds of things. They’re so artificial and forced.”

“Come on. After all the matchmaking schemes you’ve put me through since college, you owe me.”

“That’s probably true. But still, I’m out of here.” Rae took a step back from the table.

As if in slow motion, Rylann saw what was about to happen. “Rae, look—”

“Nice try, Pierce. But you’re going to have to try a little harder to get the jump on me.” With a satisfied grin, she whirled around and—

–ran smack into the chest of one designer-suit-wearing Special Agent Sam Wilkins.

A chest now drenched in iced cappuccino.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry,” Rae blurted out.

He sighed. “It would have to be one of the Varvatos suits.” Then he peered down at Rae, seeing her face for the first time. “Oh. Hello.”

Rae’s gaze lingered several seconds, seemingly mesmerized by his dazzling smile. She held up the soggy napkin from her drink. “Napkin?”

He took the napkin from her. “Assault with a loaded cappuccino. That’s a new one.”

Just in time, Rae recovered her wits. “Purely self-defense. You sidled up on me without warning.”

“Those would be my stealth moves.” He held out his hand. “Special Agent Sam Wilkins.”

“Rae Ellen Mendoza.”

Back at the table, Rylann watched this interaction with interest. Rae Ellen? This was getting serious. She waved cheerfully at Wilkins. “Good to see you again, Sam.”

Rae shot her a look. “You two know each other?”

“Sure do.” Wilkins blotted the coffee on his suit with the wet napkin. “We work together.”

“How interesting,” Rae said. “And you just happened to be in the area?”

“Actually, yes,” Wilkins said. “I was in front of the grand jury this afternoon for three hours and needed some caffeine before heading back to the FBI office. Saw Rylann and thought I’d come over to say hi.”

“Oh.” Rae pointed to his wet suit, making an apologetic face. “Sorry you have to go back to the office like that.”

“Since I’m by far the best-dressed agent in the office, you’re really putting my reputation on the line here. Luckily, I know how you can make it up to me.” Wilkins reached into the inner pocket of his blazer, exposing a glimpse of his gun harness. He pulled out his business card and handed it to Rae. “That’s my info. Call me—so I know where to send my dry cleaning bill,” he added with an amused sparkle in his light brown eyes.

Rae looked at the card, then back at Sam. “I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” He handed her back the soggy napkin. “Because if you don’t call, Rae Ellen Mendoza, you’re going to ruin a really good meet-cute story.”

She smiled. “Since when do FBI agents know about meet-cutes?”

Wilkins winked as he turned to leave. “I think you’ll find that I’m not the average FBI agent.” He raised his hand in good-bye. “See you later, Rylann.”

And just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

“Well. That was fun.” Rylann picked up her latte and stood up from the table. Clearly, her business here was done.

Rae was silent as the two of them walked out of the Starbucks together. When they stepped outside, she finally caved. “All right. Tell me.”

“Yale Law School, joined the FBI last year. He works in the violent crimes division and specializes in homicide cases.”

Rae digested all that. “He’s a little young. But that smile is deadly.” She shot Rylann a coy look. “That was actually pretty smooth.”

The true tactical details of Operation Setup would go with Rylann to her grave. “Of course it was. You’re not the only one who’s a matchmaking evil genius.”

“I meant Agent Wilkins was pretty smooth.”

“So he passed the five-minute test?”

“We’ll see.” But Rae’s Cheshire Cat-like grin said it all as she walked away, heading in the direction of her office.

Rylann stood on the sidewalk, watching her friend go.

And all was right with the world.

“Rylann—hey.”

She looked over and saw Cade Morgan approaching.

He gestured behind him. “I just ran into Sam Wilkins, covered in cappuccino. He said something about a meet-cute? No clue what that means.” He stopped next to her in front of the Starbucks. “So what did I miss?”

Rylann smiled. Poor Cade. So close and yet so far.

Maybe next time.

TO ENTERTAIN CLIENTS, Rhodes Network Consulting LLC—aka Kyle—had purchased a premium theater box at the United Center. The box included four private seats with perfect views just twenty-eight rows above the floor, in-seat wait service, and a reserved table at the stadium’s exclusive lounge and bar.

Of course, since Rhodes Network Consulting LLC currently had no clients, the box hadn’t seen a lot of action as of late. Thus, after Jordan had essentially decreed that he and Nick have a guy’s night out to “bond,” Kyle had offered up the seats and told Nick to feel free to bring along a friend. He’d also asked Dex to join them—the more the merrier, he’d figured.

Perhaps not always the best words to live by.

Kyle warily eyed the two FBI agents—yes, now there were two; apparently they multiplied like wet gremlins—as they pushed open the red privacy curtain and entered the theater box.

“How nice,” he said to Nick. “You brought the guy who nearly snapped my ankle off putting on a monitoring device.”

Nick turned to the tall guy with dark hair and dark eyes next to him. “I totally forgot about that.”

The other agent—Special Agent Jack Pallas, if memory served—looked just as surprised. “You only said you had an extra ticket,” he said to Nick. “You didn’t say who else would be here.”

Nick looked between Jack and Kyle. “This is a little awkward.”

The waitress stepped into the box, having seen the two agents arrive. “Can I get anyone something to drink?”

Four hands shot up. “A beer.”

After the waitress left, Nick and Jack took the two seats in the back row, directly behind Kyle and Dex.