Page 35 of Crossfire

“No.” She smiled. “But it was sweet of you to try nonetheless.”

“So, he must be really stupid to provoke you.”

Her chuckle bordered on a beautiful laugh, the sound enchanting. “He’s not as smart as I thought he was when I first met him.” She rolled her eyes.

“Please tell me you didn’t date him long.”

She winced slightly, her shoulders tensing for a moment before she forced them to relax. “Longer than I should have.”

“Seems to me he’s trying to make you jealous.”

Her focus ping-ponged from me to him, then back to me. She bit her lower lip, a fleeting expression of frustration crossing her face.

“I know.”

“Does he think you want him back or something?” My question was brazen, but I couldn’t figure this woman out. If shecould turn a violent criminal into a puddle of bones, why did this loser appear to get under her skin?

“He wants me to want him back.”

“But you don’t?”

“No. I thought he was past this.” She rubbed her temples. “I should have known that upsetting him yesterday would set him off again.”

Again. I didn’t like that word; it elicited visions of my knuckles relocating his teeth.

“Are you safe, Ivy?” What an ironic question for a CIA executioner turned stalker to be asking his target, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d needed to learn to fight because of him. Was he abusive?

Her beautiful, big eyes met mine again, and she waved her hand. “Oh, yes. I didn’t mean that he’d…” She trailed off, her line of sight dropping to the floor.

I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and gently lift her chin, to make her look at me and see the sincerity in my expression. My hand twitched at my side, almost acting of its own accord, but I caught myself before making contact. I couldn’t believe I had nearly crossed that line, but the sight of her defeated expression stirred something deep within me—a fierce desire to wipe away her pain and replace it with the warmth of comfort.

Forcing my hand to remain steady, I spoke firmly. “He grabbed you yesterday.”

The air seemed to thicken with the apprehension, and I found myself drawn to the depths of her eyes, captivated by the emotions swirling within them.

Her eyes told me she felt it, too—this pulsing warmth that seemed to originate from the space between us, radiating throughout my body and awakening a sense of longing and curiosity I had never experienced before. It took every ounce ofmy self-control to maintain the distance, to not reach out and bridge the gap between us.

“I thought we could stay friends,” she explained. “But it looks like he’s back to his old ritual of playing games.”

Games.

“Why today?”

“Probably because I didn’t listen to his advice.”

Advice.The way she said that word implied a different meaning, more like an order.

“He used to do stuff like this when we were dating,” she admitted. “It’s why I broke up with him.”

Bingo. She ended it. She was not listening to him anymore, so Three-Piece Suit’s ego came out swinging, wanting to knock her down.

Asshole.

“I wish there was something I could do to show him these theatrics won’t work,” she mused to herself.

“Maybe it’s time to find a new coffee shop?”

“This was my coffee shop first.” For such a tiny woman, she looked damn adorable, jutting her chin out like that. “I’m not going to let him run me out of here because if I do that, he wins. Besides.” Her shoulders sank a few inches. “My morning routine is my favorite part of my day. Waking up earlier than I need to so I can stop in and get my favorite coffee. My mom even got me a gift card for my birthday because she knows how much I love it. Pete knows it, too, and him doing stuff like this…” She bit her lip. “It’s like trying to enjoy your favorite nature walk when a storm has rolled in over it.”

---