Page 95 of End Game

“Did Eileen explain why she’s requiring so much documentation?”

Ash crossed his arms, mirroring her stance. Her calm insertions were slowly pinching out his lit fuse.

He thought back to the field visit Director Tao made to the Charlotte office not long after her appointment. She’d laid out her plan for the next five years, but most of what she’d said was a gummy mess in his head. Like everyone else in the room, he’d turned off his hearing and stayed focused on her last words.

We’ll be collecting more data on what you’re doing via required forms...

“Data,” he said with less heat.

“What reason did she give for needing the information?”

He clamped his teeth together with such force a sharp pain arrowed straight into his temple. “I don’t know.” Possibly the three hardest words he’d ever uttered.

The look she sent him made the fire return to his ears, but for a completely different reason.

“How do you not know?” she asked a moment later. “Eileen showed me the talking points she intended to deliver to y’all. Her reasons for the extra work were clear.”

“Why don’t we get back to the reason I broke up your love fest.”

“Love fest?” Confusion raked over her beautiful features, then she half-looked back at the bar and her expression turned incredulous. “Nick?”

“If that’s the guy you were kissing, yes.”

She shook her head, as if he were a boy pissing against a tree at a family reunion. “I understand now why you missed the important part of Eileen’s five-year strategic plan. The vital part where she explained that good data leads to increased resources. Your damn brain shuts down when you hear—or think you see—something you don’t like.”

Increased resources? Ash recalled Patsy’s promotion and her new assistant, the establishment of an art crime squad, the fancy coffeemaker, his new computer with its duo monitors. Shame gripped his heart, but it was nothing compared to the jealousy already consuming his chest.

“I saw the kiss as plainly as I see you now.”

“Did you?”

The confidence in her challenging words made him review the painful memory again. The guy—Nick—had been sitting on her right, then he leaned in to kiss her. Had she kissed him back? Or had Nick’s head blocked his view?

Much to his shame, he couldn’t recall. The second their positions became intimate, a red haze of territorial fury had blinded him until Kayla stood before him, staring at him in surprise.

“I’ll answer the question for you. No, you didn’t see a passionate kiss. You observed a friendly peck on the cheek as a thank-you for a mutually beneficial conversation.”

“Mutually beneficial how?”

“We’re both having relationship issues.” Her gaze roamed over his face. “Sometimes an unbiased stranger can help you see things those close to you can’t.”

Ash blinked twice in quick succession. “You didn’t kiss him?”

“No,” she said in a suddenly harsh voice. “It seems all my passion is tied up in a frustratingly hardheaded special agent.”

The jealousy trembling through his body stilled and, despite feeling like a teenage fool, his cheeks widened into a grin. “A frustratingly handsome special agent with a hard head?”

“I will not be cajoled by an ass who doesn’t trust me.”

His grin fell away, and he took a step toward her, brushing his knuckles against a flush of red on her slender neck. “I’m sorry.”

At his admission, her eyes widened, then narrowed. “What strategy are you playing, Blackwell?”

“No strategy. Just a man flooded with feelings for a woman and no idea what to do with them.”

“Why?” she whispered.

Another step closer. “Because he’s uncertain where he stands with her.”

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