Page 52 of End Game

“I’m here to see how civilian life is treating you.”

“Bullshit,” she said in a low voice, so as not to disturb the other patrons.

He placed his right hand over his heart, as if she’d shoved a knife into the organ. “Ow.”

“If you were checking in on me, you would’ve simply stopped by the Friary.” She sipped her drink. “Which, by the way, you haven’t done for several weeks. Stop by the Friary and see your mother.”

“I’ll pay a social visit soon.”

“You’d better. Grams and Lynette are on the verge of storming your bachelor pad.”

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Welcome. In keeping with your charade, I’m doing fine. Best decision of my life. Now, what do you want to ask me?”

He could see she wasn’t going to say any more. In one sense, he was relieved. They were friends, but they had never mucked around into each other’s personal lives. Hell, he hadn’t even known she and Zeke were a thing until she’d resigned from the Bureau.

On the other hand, she was a friend, and he needed to know she was okay. He’d figure out how to circle back around to the baby topic later.

For now, Ash slid into agent mode. “You’ve obviously heard about the incident with the governor.”

“A bullet to the brain is more than an incident.”

He wished she was still with the Bureau so he didn’t have to guard every word. Although he trusted her implicitly, he was still a special agent investigating an active case and she was a civilian.

“Look,” she said, keying in on his dilemma. “I know how this works. Why don’t you just ask me what you want to know, and I’ll do my best to answer.”

He studied her for any obvious signs of stress or debilitating morning sickness, but he found none. In fact, she looked healthier and happier than he’d ever seen her.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

He blinked. “Like what?”

A ridge formed between her eyebrows, and her gaze lasered into his. “Zeke told you, didn’t he?”

Shit.

“No.” He lifted his hands in the air, shaking his head. “No, he didn’t tell me anything.” His phone pinged with a text message. Even though he itched to high-tail it out of this conversation, he didn’t dare look at the screen. Not with Liv’s gaze slicing him in half.

“If he didn’t,” she said, “how do you know what I’m talking about?”

“Dammit, Liv. He didn’t tell me. You know we don’t have that kind of relationship.” Anymore.

As if she’d heard his silent qualifier, empathy softened the suspicion in her eyes. A little. “Then how did you know?”

The jig’s up.

“I guessed.”

Her hand smoothed down her T-shirt, as if to test the size of her bump.

“Not visually. When I saw Zeke a few days ago, he was hyper-protective of you.”

“He’s always protective of me.”

“Hence the added ‘hyper.’”

“Please don’t say anything about my pregnancy,” she said in a low voice. “We’re waiting until the end of the first trimester to make an announcement.”

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