Page 4 of Date With Danger

I glance back at the target who is still tapping away on his phone. If anything, I guess Amelia has made this night less monotonous. What’s better for my cover than to pretend I’m on a date?

I study the beautiful woman across from me. She’s clearly not shy and has no problem speaking her mind. There’s only one tiny crack in her confidence that pops up whenever her thumb brushes her empty ring finger like she’s missing something she used to wear there. She was in a serious relationship recently. Which means I should tread carefully with how I get rid of her; she could be fragile somewhere beneath her dazzling facade.

“You said you don’t date like this often,” I hedge, enough to curb my curiosity.

“Gosh no,” she says and seems to relax slightly. “I’d rather know who I’m going out with instead of worrying my date might kill me after dinner.”

“Most would probably wait until after dessert.”

She laughs, and it pierces my very soul. It’s an unfiltered, joyful sound that reminds me of my mother. Grief tries to weasel its way into my heart, but I don’t allow it the space it needs to expand and take over.

“Do you have experience eliminating your dates?”

I pick up my water glass, offering her a soft smile. “Dates? No.”

“So, you’re not a killer?” she asks.

Before the FBI I fought in the war. I can’t say no. That would make me a liar. But…part of my job now is lying. “Not tonight.” I offer her a look that she will hopefully interpret as flirting and raise my glass in a silent toast to not kill her.

“That’s good because with those muscles you could do some serious damage.” Her gaze drags down my body in an appreciative way and I nearly choke on my water.

A good date would offer her a compliment in return.

“And you are breathtaking. The color blue was made for you.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes light up and I notice they are nearly the same color as the dress.

“What are you doing, Lover Boy?” Cruz says in my ear and I flinch. I forgot she was there. “Stop undressing her with your eyes and focus. Get her out of there. We don’t know who is meeting Hawthorne.”

Right. Work. Danger.

I scratch my ear, still not used to these little comms.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Amelia asks, her head cocked to the side.

“Doing what?” I take a bite of my food.

“Touching your ear? And you’ve been watching someone over there, but I don’t know who.”

Amelia turns her head to look around, but I lean forward, casually brushing my fingertip along her wrist, hoping to disarm her before she makes eye contact with a man she shouldn’t even be in the same room as.

“I was nervous tonight as well. I…” I pause for dramatic effect. “I find it hard to date with my social anxiety.”

She flips her hand over and clasps mine. “I like a man who is honest.”

Well, then she clearly won’t like me.

Static fills my earphone and I wince as discreetly as possible.

“I’m going to run to the ladies room.” Amelia squeezes my hand before letting go. “Don’t eat my food if it arrives.”

I hold up my hand. “Scouts honor.” I watch her walk away. I try to tear my gaze away but all attempts of doing so are futile once I’ve caught a glimpse of the back of her dress. Thin straps drape daringly over her shoulders and down the sides of her back, crossing over her spine with a delicate bow.

I’m not the only one who has noticed the daring dress and the even more beautiful woman wearing it.

Hawthorne eyes Amelia’s retreating form like he wants to devour her.

“Harris. You’ve picked up attention.” Cruz’s voice is in my ear.

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