Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Humiliation, degradation, shame. Those were just a few of the things Talia felt as she threw herself down on her government supplied couch in her government supplied apartment. As if it wasn’t enough that she’d completely embarrassed herself in front of Tucker, she was forced to come home to an apartment that was nicer than anything she’d ever owned.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a hardship, really, but it was just another reminder that she didn’t have her life as together as she thought she did.

After leaving her husband, surviving a legal battle, and starting fresh in a city she knew nothing about, Talia just assumed that diving into work and amassing some assets was the fix she was looking for. Now she realized that maybe it was all just a mask to cover the shit stain that was her life.

She didn’t feel any better about her situation, now that she had the benefit of viewing it from arm’s length. But again, maybe she was just being a whiner. Her life wasn’t all that bad, right? She had a nice job, a cushy lifestyle, and nothing about her days could ever be called boring.

The hangover must be giving her more than just a headache, she mused. It was also giving her depression and taking her on a trip down memory lane that she just wasn’t inclined to go down.

Screw hangovers and the booze they rode in on!

Dragging her ass off the couch, Talia forced her legs to carry her through the apartment in search of aspirin, and if that didn’t take care of it, she was going to sleep for days. One way or another, she’d send it packing…just like she had—

Yep, not going there.

Her head pounded like a drumbeat, each thump keeping perfect time with her footsteps. Fishing the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet, she tossed a couple back and scrunched her nose at the salty taste they left behind on her tongue. Disgusting little things.

A freshly made bed called to her, and she went into her room, kicking off her shoes on the way. She sunk into the memory foam, gingerly lying on her back, closing her eyes and mentally counting sheep.

Unfortunately, her thoughts proved too loud to sleep, and Talia began thinking of the party and Tucker and all the people she’d met.

His friends were nice. Way nicer than Ingram and Kellerman led her to believe. They didn’t seem dangerous at all, once you got to know them. They were friendly and charismatic, entertaining and always laughing at something. They were playful, even, telling jokes and chasing each other around. They liked kids, too. A few of them even had some of their own, wives too, and Talia didn’t have a doubt in her mind that they loved them fiercely and without measure. It was in their eyes and their words. If there was one thing she took from it all, it was that family was number one. Who couldn’t respect that?

“Probably Frank,” she muttered, still feeling bitter about her last interaction with him. He was a real toad sometimes, and not the kind that could be turned into a prince. He was the real deal, warts and all. It was a mystery to her what any woman saw in him, except she figured they just didn’t get to see the Frank she knew. He must be a good liar. Then again, who was she to talk? They all made their living based on their acting skills, and she was probably the worst of them all at the moment.

It didn’t make her feel good to know that she was snowing Tucker. Not at all. It was a problem she’d never run into before. Usually, the kind of people she encountered while on assignment left very little to be desired. In fact, they invited her contempt and eagerness to take them down. This was the first time that she felt nothing of the sort. In fact, she felt like she was doing something wrong, and that just wasn’t okay in her field. A person had to believe in their cause in order to get the kind of results they were looking for.

Talia did believe in the cause. She had to. Those women were depending on her. She just didn’t know if it was enough. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were looking in the wrong place, at the wrong people.

But she, better than anyone, also knew that a wolf often paraded around in sheep’s clothing. No matter what she may or may not be feeling, Talia knew she needed to set aside her personal feelings and stay focused on the job. It didn’t matter who she liked or how nice they were to her, she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to pretend to make friends. There was a fine line, yes, but there was a line, and she needed to toe it for as long as possible.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Talia lifted her hips, digging it out of the restrictive jean material with an agonized groan. The last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone right now. Even the sound of her hair scratching against the pillowcase was too loud.

She checked the name on the display before answering. “Made it in safe and secure.”

The man on the other end responsible for keeping tabs on her replied in monotone. “Noted. We’re parked around the block if you need anything.”

She hung up without offering any formalities. She just wasn’t in the mood. The man’s voice lingered in her head a while after she deposited the phone on the bed beside her. She still remembered the first time she’d ever been assigned a tail. It was strange, knowing there was someone—or several someones—following her everywhere, listening to her calls and conversations, mapping out her every move. Even stranger still was how commonplace it had all become. Now she was able to find a measure of comfort in knowing that there was always someone close by if she needed them.

With that thought, she finally began to feel drowsy enough to begin drifting off. If she was lucky, she would sleep for days. It would be a blessing too because Lord knew she didn’t want to suffer through every long moment aware of her splitting skull.

She was dancing along the fringes of a dream when she heard the rumble of a…motorcycle? That couldn’t be right. She was probably dreaming and just didn’t realize it. Well, at least it would be a good one. A really good one if it involved a certain shirtless biker.

Her phone began buzzing again, vibrating the side of her thigh where the corner of hard plastic touched. Talia scowled even with her eyes still closed and blindly reached for it.

“Hello?”

“A member of the club just pulled into the parking lot,” her mysterious stalker friend informed her. “Approximately six four, weight two-twenty to two-forty, light brown hair, wearing a leather vest, black undershirt, and jeans. Appears to be heading your way.”

Headache not exactly forgotten but set on the back burner in lieu of her freaking the fuck out! Talia flew out of bed and rushed to the window. “ETA?” she asked while parting the mini blinds. She didn’t need the update, however, because Tucker was trudging her way, his strides long and powerful, eating up distance faster than her heart could beat.

And he looked determined.

She’d hate to be the unfortunate person who dared to step in his way. Because he looked as if he would just bowl them right over.

God, he was sex on two legs. It wasn’t fair how attracted to him she was. Like coming down with the flu, if it got any worse, it was going to compromise her ability to work the case, and that just couldn’t happen.

What was he doing there anyway? And how did he know where “there” was?

“You have thirty seconds or less,” the man in her ear said. “Do you need backup?”

She blinked at the question. Did she? Would he hurt her?

“Agent McKinnon, do you need backup?”

She blinked again. Rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “No. I’m fine. Stand down.” She strode from the room, heading for the front door and for the man who turned her insides to jelly at the same time as striking fear in the pit of her stomach.

“Remember, we have eyes on the building and ears inside. If you need anything, anything at all, give the code word. We can be there in less than a minute.”

If Tucker meant her harm, whatever he could do to her would certainly take less than that. She doubted she’d even have the opportunity to call for help before he offed her, so whatever was about to go down, she was on her own.

A heavy fist pounded on her door as expected before she had even replaced the phone in her back pocket. The hammering grew louder, jolting her nerves. Only a few steps away, Talia paused, turned back around, and retraced her steps. The bureau in the dining room held a standard issue pistol. In her heart of hearts, she knew that Tuck wouldn’t hurt her…

…but the heart was a proven liar. One ex-husband and an overpriced divorce attorney was proof of that.

“Coming,” she called, checking the clip on her way back. Fully loaded and ready for business—she hoped it didn’t come to that.

Tuck’s hand almost hit her in the nose when she ripped open the door. “Whoa, shit!” He yanked his hand back at the same time Talia reeled to avoid having anything broken.

Thanks to the nature of her job, she’d been on the receiving end of a busted nose a time or two, and she wasn’t eager for another surgery. The recovery time was a bitch, and being out of commission for however long it would take to heal wasn’t something she wanted to repeat any time soon—or ever.

“What are you doing here?” Her tone was a bit waspish, but that was all for show. Inside, Talia’s heart rate had spiked, and she’d bet her skin was a ripe shade of red, although he’d probably liken it to anger before he’d connect it to lust.

Lust. Was that what this was? A simple chemical reaction in the brain, something that was normal and expected when faced with someone who looked like sin incarnate, not to mention was completely unavoidable.

There was never any accounting for the body’s natural reaction to its environment. That was just another part of what made her job so interesting. Always new scenery to explore and adapt to. You didn’t get that with an average desk job.

Tuck’s expression flattened at her question and the way he eyed her, so stern, so intense, gave her shivers—the good kind.

“You left.”

“Yes, I did,” she said slowly. But really, how cute was that? He actually tracked her down because why? She didn’t say goodbye?

Strong and fierce. Play hard to get, she’d been told once. Men loved that. It was like ambrosia to their little minds. Crossing her arms under her breasts, she smirked when his gaze dropped, then fixed him with the same glower her mother always used on her father; it was potent enough to make any man cower.

Not so with Tuck, though. Once he caught her look, he planted his giant feet and gave it right back. Just another reason to like him, she mused. He wasn’t easily cowed.

“How do you know where I live, Tuck? I know I never told you.”

“This isn’t a big town, sugar. Your last name was enough.”

“I’m not listed.”

“Would you believe me if I said I have mad skills when it comes to computers?”

“Probably not.” She’d seen people with “mad skills” when it came to tech, and somehow a biker who spent his downtime between the sheets didn’t strike her as the type to know his way around high-tech machinery.

Now, an ex-agent who’d had the training for such things was another story. It wasn’t a far leap to guess that he’d used his intelligence to look into her backstory. He’d find it solid, she had no doubt.

“Then we’ll just have to agree to disagree. Now back to my original reason for being here.” He took a step closer, his booted foot crossing the threshold and forcing her to step back. He only followed, mirroring every step until he was fully inside. He continued to advance until her back hit the Carrera countertop of her open-concept kitchen.

Looming over her, he pulled out the big guns—and by that she meant that he used that sexy southern accent, dropping it down low and smooth, like butter on a warm summer’s day.

Good Lord, now she was making up bad metaphors. The man was reducing her to a brainless pile of mush.

Light fingertips tickled her bare shoulders, trailing slowly down her arms. Goose bumps prickled across her skin, but it wasn’t from just his touch. The way he was looking at her was powerful enough to make the rest of the world disappear.

“Do you know the one rule I live by, Talia?” he purred, all pure seduction and testosterone that was impossible not to melt for.

She shook her head, suddenly mute.

His lips quirked at the corners. Leaning in, he buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her neck before answering. “No woman is allowed to leave without a goodbye kiss.”

Her heart thudded against her ribcage. “So what, kisses are your form of a continental breakfast? Parting gift, perhaps?”

He chuckled, sending a breeze of warmth skating across her ear. The sound of it was the finest symphony she’d ever heard. “You’re an easy girl to like, Talia.”

“I could almost say the same thing about you,” she said breathily.

“Almost?” Pulling his face back so he could look into her eyes, he seemed almost amused rather than upset, as she would have expected. Most men would have taken her comment as a slight. But not Mr. Confidence, apparently. “I wonder what I can do to make that a definite.”

Talia wasn’t given a chance to utter another word, because his mouth was suddenly on hers, kissing them all away.

Unsure how to respond—should she push him away or pull him closer?—everything except her lips remained immobile. It was physically impossible not to kiss him back. He was great at it. Had he been her first kiss, he’d have ruined her for all others. Hell, he might have already done that, between the sex and his mouth…yeah. She was in danger of losing herself.

On that note, Talia braced her hands against his chest—his firm, muscular chest—and shoved him away…and got the feeling that he only moved by choice and not because all those pullups and pushups she forced herself to perform each morning had made her into a trimmed down version of Superwoman.

“I think you should go,” Talia informed him.

“Why? It’s not as if you’re married—wait, are you?” He glanced around her apartment as if looking for someone. Then his perusal slowed, becoming more assessing. His whistle was long and impressively robust. “This is a damn nice place you have here. What do you do again?”

His gaze swung back to her, and Talia swallowed. Somehow, writer just didn’t seem like a good enough cover story, but what choice did she have? It’d already been put out there, and she couldn’t risk being exposed over a detail like that.

“I’m a writer.” Author sounded better. “I’m an author,” she revised, her voice stronger the second time.

His brow arched up into his hairline. “Must be a damn good one to afford a place like this. What’s it run you, one, two grand?”

“Something like that.” Just like politics, money talk was a topic to avoid. Especially when she had no idea what an apartment like hers ran. It wasn’t as if she paid the bills. “So,” she said, clapping her hands together and smiling brightly, “I have to get to work.”

“Yeah? What kind of story are you working on?”

Again with the swallowing. What was it with all the questions? It felt more like an interrogation. She could feel the heat crawling up the back of her neck, the sweat forming along her hairline and under her arms. Was this what criminals felt like when they were brought in for questioning?

She said the first thing that popped into her head. “Romance. I’m writing, uh, a romance novel.” No, shit. Hadn’t she told Gabby that it was a thriller? Or was it a suspense? She couldn’t remember. Panic filled her lungs, making them feel tight, as if they’d shriveled up to the size of her fist. She’d never forgotten a detail before. If she blew her cover over something so stupid, Ingram would have her badge faster than she could snap her fingers.

Thankfully, Tuck didn’t react as if he knew any better, which meant that he hadn’t talked to Gabby. She sucked in a deep breath. What a relief! As long as the two never had reason to compare notes, then it wouldn’t be a problem. Hopefully. God willing.

“I love romance novels.”

Talia’s eye opened wide. “You do?”

“Sure. I mean, I know a lot of men probably think they’re only for women, and I know the guys back at the compound would probably laugh me right out of the place if they knew, but I have always had the notion that reading a romance story is like holding the golden ticket in the palm of your hands. It’s a window to understanding women better.”

Interesting. Talia’s limbs relaxed, and she carried herself over to the sofa, watching as Tuck perused a desk that’d been set up for her, complete with laptop and a cup full of pens and markers. There was even a stack of sticky notes. It was all too neat and tidy, however. Thankfully, Tuck didn’t seem to notice that either.

“How does it help you understand us?”

“Well, for starters, it’s like a guide to what women want.”

“Which is…”

“To be loved. Accepted. Cherished. A woman wants to know that the man can’t live without her, that she’s the only person he will ever want or need.”

“And you don’t think that can happen?”

“The opposite, actually. I think if a man really loves a woman, the rest of the world ceases to exist.”

Instantly, she thought of Gabby. Now there was a woman in love with her man, and Blake was a man in love with his woman. It’d only taken seeing them together once for her to recognize true love. She’d doubted its existence up until that point, but now that she’d witnessed firsthand the look of two people who would do absolutely anything for each other, she was a believer once again.

“What else did you learn from romance novels?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Crossing the room, Tuck sat down beside her, his expression soft and more open than she’d ever seen on anyone. “I learned that women are just as soft and gentle and loving creatures as they can be fierce and loyal and independent. Men tend to think that women are complicated puzzles that are impossible to solve, but I think women just want security and support, to know that at the end of the day, someone has their back.”

God, he was the most perfect man she’d ever met.

“Thank you.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, did I say that out loud?”

Tuck’s grin was mesmerizing. “You definitely did, but I’ll pretend you didn’t if it’ll keep you from passing out. Breathe, Talia.” He began rubbing her back in fat circles.

It was then she realized she was close to hyperventilating. Not so much because of the admission but because it could have been something much worse. She needed to watch her mouth before it got her into trouble she couldn’t talk her way out of.

It took some time, but eventually she got back to breathing normally again. “I’m so humiliated,” she admitted, hiding her face behind her hands. She had to keep telling herself that she was only this upset because of what could have happened and not because she was really starting to like this guy. “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

“Like what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Talia laughed at his picture of innocence. He even wore goofball well. “Well, if you’re going to pretend nothing happened, then I’m going to join you. Would you care to stay for a drink?” She rose up from the couch, and he followed.

“I thought you said you had work to do.”

She laughed nervously, telling herself to pull it together. Leading the way into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator to see what she had to offer. “I do, but it can wait a while. Besides, I’m not sure I’m up for much work today.” God, what was she saying? What was she doing? Inviting him deeper into her life when she knew her intentions weren’t entirely pure? It was hard to admit, but she knew that she wasn’t just asking him to stay because she wanted to glean as much information from him as she could. That might have been how it started out between them, but now, selfishly, she wanted more.

Was she ashamed of herself? You bet.

Was she going to back down and ignore what she wanted? Not a chance.

Talia might be attracted to Tuck, she might have more eggs in the basket than she’d intended to put into it, but she wasn’t going to let her work suffer in the pursuit of physical wants and needs. She was a professional and as such, was capable of focusing on two objectives at once.

“In that case, I’d love to.” Sliding in behind her, Tucker wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her back against him, bending with her to look inside the fridge. The move played on all her inner musings like a perfectly tuned fiddle, as if to reinforce her decision. When he reached past her and took out two bottles of Evian, she trembled. “If I’m hanging around, we’re going to need to stay hydrated.”

Her. Blood. Was. On. Fire. Turning in his arms, Talia tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, alrighty then. Sounds like it’s time to shut it down!” she shouted. Having the apartment outfitted with cameras had never been an issue before, but there was no way on God’s green earth was she letting a van full of agents see her naked ass.

Tucker was frowning. “So you don’t want to…”

“No! No, I do. I definitely do.” She patted the air. Realized she looked like a crazy person and pressed herself against him instead. Up close, she could see the golden flecks in his caramel colored eyes, along with shots of pale green, like a starburst. “What I meant to say was let’s get things started.”

“So eager.” Looping his arm around her waist, Tucker pulled her in tighter, allowing her to feel his erection pressing against her navel. “I like it. Where’s the bedroom? Unless you prefer the couch? Or maybe the counter? I’m totally flexible.”

So many options. Unfortunately, the only place Talia could be certain the cameras weren’t watching was the bedroom. She pointed in its direction. “Through there.”

Grinning like a cat with a bowl of milk, Tucker carried the water bottles in one hand and held hers in the other.

Her room was just as expensively outfitted as the rest of the apartment when it came to the cost of materials and the level of quality of the furniture, but when it came to style, it was much more subdued than the rest of the place.

The difference was that it was Talia’s personal space and the one place she could retreat to truly relax. She’d read somewhere that the bedroom should be treated as a sanctuary in order to foster a calm mind and help reduce everyday stressors, which would lead to good sleep and all around better frame of mind.

Since she always got a full eight hours and could honestly say that her tension eased the minute her toes sunk into the carpet, she had to believe there was something to it.

A Ficus stood proud between three bay windows, surrounded by two club chairs that she alternated between using for reading and to prop her feet on. The bed was a standard queen with an antique iron frame that’d been painted white and then destressed in places to expose the ironwork underneath. The predominate color in the room was Robin’s egg blue with spots of yellow and touches of red sprinkled here and there to create pops of color.

It was a no-fuss space that always made her feel at home in a place that was far from it. Just another way that her job was different from everyone else’s: whereas most people worked an eight-hour shift and called it a day, she literally lived her job most days, so she rarely got to leave work behind at the end of the day. It was a reality that rarely bothered her, but when the occasion did arise, it was a struggle to remind herself why she’d chosen the profession and how much she enjoyed it.

“I like your style,” Tuck praised as he took the lead, heading straight for the bed with her in tow. “It’s surprisingly masculine.”

He was referring to the choice of furniture: bulky dark grain woods mixed with metalwork and plain beige fabrics. Very basic, very streamline. No doubt, the women he usually spent his time with were all about the usual pink and floral with ruffles routine girls were taught to like. Bleh. She had never been the type to conform to societal norms.

“Thanks.” She wished she could say that she’d decorated it herself, but that would be a lie, and given the way he seemed to look straight through her most of the time, she wasn’t even going to go there.

“Okay, so how do you want to do this?” he asked. Setting the bottles down on the side table, taking care to use the coasters she kept in every room, he turned to face her.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” How to do what? Whatever it was, she knew he couldn’t be talking about sex, because he definitely knew his way around that.

“Sex,” he said, shooting that theory down. “It’s your place, so you have first dibs. Top, bottom, side, or standing. Or, if you really want to get crazy, Cricket told me about this one time where he had one of the bunnies stand on her head and put her legs on his shoulders while he—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Talia yelled over top of him. “This is so not something I want to hear.”

“Sorry, yeah. I said the same thing, but some things you can’t unhear, and that? That was pretty damn interesting, so I’ll admit that I filed some of it away for later use. So if you’re feeling adventurous, just let me know, and I’ll be happy to hook you up.”

He winked. She may have swooned a little. “Yeah, sure, okay, I’ll definitely do that.” She rolled her eyes, hoping her disinterested huff was convincing. Sex while standing on your head? How did that work?

There was so much she didn’t know, so much she had yet to learn. It seemed that Tucker was determined to see to it that he fixed that problem posthaste. It was a good feeling, being wanted. Desired. During the last months of her marriage, Brock had made it a point to beat her confidence down, drilling it in that she wasn’t a good wife. She never cooked or cleaned to his standards, didn’t dress sexy enough or maintain herself as he wanted. In his eyes, she had never been woman enough for him, too independent, too focused on work and not enough on him. In hindsight, she wasn’t even sure why she’d married him in the first place. With her job, they were often separated for weeks at a time, and when they were together, they were always butting heads. Eventually, though, she’d come to her senses and realized that, despite what she did for a living, she wasn’t the problem. He knew what he was getting into when he married her and no matter what, she didn’t deserve the abuse. So, after telling him that he wasn’t man enough for her, she left without a backward glance.

Just because she was the one who left didn’t mean that it didn’t still hurt, though. Sometimes, like now, when she thought on it too long, it struck a chord deep in her that seemed to hum through her every fiber, leaving her feeling the lowest of the low.

But now she had Tucker, who made her feel like every woman in those romance books he read about. Did he learn a thing or two from them? Hell yes. She’d experienced it at his place, and now she was about to experience it again.

Stepping into his personal space, she slid her arms around his shoulders and smiled up into his face. “I’d like to start out on top, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Handstand sex?” he asked hopefully.

Her head fell back, the hangover now reduced to a dull ache, and she laughed. “Maybe.”

“I’ll take it.”

Absorbing the light in his eyes, the pure joy in his smile, and the euphoric feeling he gave her every time he looked at her like that, Talia thanked her lucky stars that she’d been assigned to the case she had…then wondered what she’d do with herself once it was all over.

But she didn’t want to think about all that now. Right now, all she wanted to do was get lost in the man in front of her and the untold pleasures he would bring.

Rising onto her toes, she whispered against his lips, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you. The last guy in my life wasn’t so nice.”

Tucker’s jaw clenched. “Then it’ll be my pleasure to erase him from your memory.”