Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,93

waste,” I agree, hoping Max will calm down. I should remove all the coffee from the building before his heart explodes. “In thirty-six hours, it could all be over. What will you do if they don’t get him?”

“They’ll get him.” He leans back in his chair and lets out a big breath. “I can’t really process it, though. And it isn’t really about me.”

I suppose that’s what he’s supposed to say. But we both know it matters a great deal. What must it feel like for Max to be so close to something he’s waited ten years to do? To bring down the man who killed the woman he loved.

“How are you doing, anyway?” Max asks me.

“Fine, dude. What do you mean?”

“If you go back to Cali next week, that’s pretty much the end of your time with Posy.”

“Yeah, thanks for the memo.” I give him a sour look. “My head is totally in the game now.”

“I know that.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to finger Teagan. I apologize for my distraction.”

Max frowns at me. “It was a slick op, Gunn. They disabled the cell service and the GPS in her phone and spoofed it to Windows. Then they re-installed Instagram to fool anyone who was nearby. Top notch tech in the hands of a donut maker.”

“Still,” I grunt. “I let a woman play me, because I was busy staring at another one. I won’t lose focus again.”

“Everyone loses focus.” Max scratches his chin. “Well, everyone but me. But you’re totally into Posy. When were you going to ask me for a permanent assignment in New York?”

“Never.”

“What?” He gives me a look like I’m not making sense. “Why not?”

“Because.” I know that’s a dumb answer. But in my defense, Max asked a really stupid question. “Because I hate New York. And because I’m just like you—married to this job. We’re a couple of mercenaries, and we like it that way.”

“It wasn’t always like that.” Max folds his hands behind his head. “I used to have someone. And I would have done anything for her.”

“Look how that turned out.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. It’s not Max’s fault that the love of his life was killed by the same terrorist we’re trying to pin down with the bookkeeper’s help.

But Max doesn’t even flinch. “I’d do it all again. I mean—I’d happily skip the part where I got the intelligence completely fucking wrong, causing the deaths of at least three people. But there’s no parallel universe in which I don’t love her. You can save yourself from terrorists, but you can’t save yourself from loving the right woman. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Who are you?” I grunt, and I’m not really joking. Max never talks about her. Cassie. I haven’t even heard her name in five years.

“Who are you,” he echoes, “to walk away from someone who loves you? I’m not proud of what happened. But I never walked away from her willingly. Why would you do that if you didn’t have to?”

“Max. Why are we doing this right now? We’re working on the most important operation since … maybe ever. You’re about to get exactly what you want. Let’s just get the work done.”

He picks up one of his Blackwing pencils and taps the eraser onto the desk. “What I’m getting is a poor substitute for what I really want,” he says quietly. “But your life could turn out quite differently.”

I don’t even know what to say to that. “I’m already thirty-six years old. It’s not like I’m going to grow up to be an optimist. You and I see a lot of dark things. We know too much and we take a lot of risks. No woman really wants a piece of that.”

“Doesn’t she? Did you even ask?” He tosses the pencil onto the desk. “Nobody’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. There’s the part where you eat your spinach, and when you’re done, you get a piece of pie for dessert. You can have both, Gunn.”

“I like spinach,” is the most intelligent thing I can think of to say.

“Go home and get some sleep. There’s more to do tomorrow.”

I rise from the chair and leave to do as he says.

Or I try to, anyway. But I don’t sleep very well.

The next day is just as busy at work. We meet with some clandestine asshole from the State Department. We give him reams of information, and all he gives us back