Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,52

and black olives.”

He grunted in the affirmative. She pulled out her cell and ordered while reading his body language without effort, observing the nuance in his movements as he continued with his laundry. This skill of hers had been handy in undercover work. There didn’t seem to be much anger left there. He was releasing a whole lot of frustrated energy, but there was a resignation about him that made her think their time apart had been productive for him.

He finished loading the washer and started the machine, finally turning around to face her. It was hard to keep focus on what they had to discuss, with his muscled arms, his defined chest and lean belly, and the way those jeans rode low on his hips distracting her.

With a shiver, there was a sudden shift between them. Her pulse ramped up, along with his scrutiny. He watched her, his eyes intense and searching, as if he were trying to figure her out, who she was beyond the woman he’d thought he’d met. What more she could be hiding?

She might have spilled the beans about what she did for a living and intentionally blown her cover with him, but she would never tell him the ugly secret she harbored, her own volatile emotions and soul-deep pain. She couldn’t bear the way he would look at her, this emerging warrior with the bright, seductive blue eyes.

She would rather be the one doing the analyzing.

“In the military, you learn the essence of people. You see so many examples of self-sacrifice and moral courage. In the rest of life, you don’t get that many opportunities to be sure of your friends.”

Did those words mean he didn’t trust her? Truth be told, she’d always felt safe undercover, being someone else, always aware of and digging into other people’s lives and feelings but keeping her own hidden away. She’d never felt threatened that someone might realize her ploy, or that Hemingway might have that ability to make her feel this vulnerable. Because while his integrity and heart were out there for everyone to see, she kept everything close to the vest, buried deep, and she’d had no desire to allow anyone close enough to unearth them. In the past, her relationships had always been short-lived, easily ended before they got too serious.

Friends in her line of work were luxuries.

Yesterday, she realized that Hemingway had that power, and it was a realization that shook her to the very core of her being.

“I can’t be sorry for hiding my real job, but I do regret that you got hurt.” She had no problem being honest on this particular issue. “Lives depend on me getting this right, so if you don’t trust me—"

“Don’t go beating yourself up,” he said, his tone low and sincere, his gaze still watching her. “While I’m not thrilled about you faking your job, I understand the necessity of doing so. I can’t fault you or NCIS for wanting to keep us all safe.”

Her shoulders lost some of their tension but tightened right back up again.

“But I won’t say it wasn’t a shock not really knowing who you are. I don’t like that, Shea. Not one damn bit. I don’t intend to be used.”

“I told you I wasn’t using you. I don’t need access to you to get access to them.” She breathed a sigh of relief that it was the honest truth and felt compelled to let him know she understood his feelings.

He crossed the room and grabbed her by the back of the neck. His soft, warm lips touched her skin, his words a rasp of need. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day.” Shivers washed over her. His damp mouth and hot breath rushed over her skin and teased the shell of her ear. “I hear vibrations make it better.”

A shudder rippled through her, drugging her mind, her limbs. When he stripped her shirt, yoga pants and underwear off her, she only moaned. He lifted her and set her on top of the moving washing machine, his mouth capturing her breast. The fire took them both.

Later, they ate pizza and fruit on the balcony, snuggling against the cool breeze. They each had work to do and that work would eventually tear them apart. She’d already accepted it.

She told him about the investigation so far, and he nodded solemnly, not surprised by Wilson landing at the top of her suspect list.

The second week of First Phase passed with a grueling pace. Shea